` Samples

[LittleLux]

posted are my most recent roleplay responses!
I can write a variety of lengths, my intros tend to be the longest.
intro post. there are likely typos, I'm not perfect I edit when I see them!

DRAGON AGE INQUISITION INSPIRED.
Playing Edwick my human warrior, and his daughter Cas.
He's returned home to reclaim his heritage after his mother passed and he was assumed dead, gotta deal with some greedy uncles + on top of sharing land with the elves to which there has been a recent upset with red lyrium poisoning the lands.

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The overcast in the late of the day was brightly warm and clear, the winds had just shifted ever so abruptly to bring in a roll of thick nimbus clouds across the Dale's Plain. The girl mounted on a very fine milky white Oreliasn mare had her eyes fixed on the horizon. She was hoping she might see movement, maybe a caravan, maybe a herd of Halla being shuffled. Her dark hair framed her wolf mask so severely that it seemed very visibly she wore a disappointed grimace beneath, pouting as she slouched in her sadle picking at her decadent mask. She had a bad habit of scraping along at the encrusted jewels. Hearing her nail scratch along, her mare Bisou seemed to chortle a soft whinny, a reprimanding hoof lightly stamping the ground. Cas sighed, instead of fidgeting she washed her gloved fingers through Bisou's glimmering butter cream mane.

"... Nothing." She clicked to her steed, No elves today, not a one. Cas seemed remiss not to see any of the clans slowly crossing as she had anticipated. She had observed it had been some time since her trained eyes had scouted them even distantly. She had been eager to see them again, on their last outing she had even spotted them before her Papa. When she had drawn his attention to them he had sat back with his usual wall of silence, clearly in thoughts that she couldn't follow. Cas could only guess, trying her hardest to read what was behind his own wolf mask which remained so fixedly on horizon as if stalking them. His mask bore a ruined mark over one eye like a scar, that eye socket seeming to glower and make her uneasy. She had thought he would laugh and compliment her good sight, or tell her a story, he was full of them. Instead his fists only tightened on his reigns and he sat straighter calculating the distance between the clan and them. She had wanted to break the silence and beg to go meet them but instead wordlessly Edwick had turned his horse a way wordlessly ordering his daughter who followed suit glumly.

It had been well over a fortnight she reflected since they had seen them, and by then it was nearly impossible for Cas to get her Papa away from the estate! Edwick had promised her sweetly how much he missed their rides and that soon he would have his affairs made up and he would spend his time with her. She had huffed and impatiently asked daily when they might ride. Interrupting his talks with their relatives or other nobles. He had a good ear surprisingly when she tried spying to catch words they spoke in low voices between themselves. He would always stop so suddenly, and depending on his mood tease or chide her. "Cassiopeia is that you, come, don't be rude." Introducing her with her grand titles and courtesies. Often lately it was "Cassiopeia you are too old for these games..." He had used to compliment her silent foot work, finding it endearing that she could sneak up even on him. But lately, well, he seemed occupied and frustrated. Cas didn't let it deter her in any way though, if she couldn't sneak then she would announce her intentions and demand her wants openly. Always unplanned her presence, dodging her lessons, as she had strolled into the main wing of the house where her Papa liked best to think and go over well items of importance. when she asked he always shuffled the paperwork or had a way of clearing his throat that suggested it was definitely important but that he had no intention of sharing with her. Always stroking her hair or fetching a piece of candy from a ready dish on his desk to distract and coax her and tell her it was nothing.

If it was nothing couldn't they ride today?
Not today my pet he would coo, always looking half sorely tempted to flee the office at her mere suggestion. Instead the gleam always left his eyes and he would appear extremely haggard just for a fraction before he deeply sighed and then broke in to his easy smile which brimmed through his thick red beard. He might gather her up in his arms and give a regretful hug, if she was particularly unimpressed with his apology he gave her a ruffled tickle with his beard his pointed nose tracing the nooks of her face down her cheek and then planted a fat raspberry under her ear. He always had away of gently touching her shoulder to ease her warranted and stubborn brooding tantrum of being denied. It was always soon. She could hiss at him like a cat some days.

But Today was the day. today she had been quiet, withdrawn and sullen. He touched her bangs, measuring if she was in need of a haircut. His relatives often mentioning how out of style she appeared. It was almost comical, no matter how much he tried to have her raven locks brushed out they had a wild mess of their own, always wind swept and fiercely rolling down her sharp cheeks and thin shoulders. She reminded him of her mother sometimes... No he wouldn't have it styled, it suited her. He hated to see her so defeated and before she asked, it seemed decided then as he rose from his chair. Swinging his arms around her, hauling her up squealing. They pranced down the halls making a rather loud show of it all the way down to the stables. She of course got to pick both their mounts, even though she knew her Papa preferred his Dark Desterier to any. La Tempête as her Papa had named him accordingly had a way of terrifying her. He was heads above her, and unlike with other steeds her impulse to reach out and touch them fondly was not the same as him. Those dark bottomless pit of eyes seemed to regard her with an unpleasant glower.

She felt if she tried to reach out her hand he would snip it off, even though he was well trained beyond that sort of reproach. Her father had teased her that he was a bred war horse through and through, the best of the best and was a big brute and softie deep down. Cas saw no softness in the beast, and always waited with some anxiety for the day La Tempête would throw her Papa. They truly had a bond which was beyond everyone's understanding, he spoke to La Tempête as if he were a friend not an animal of servitude. Edwick charming him once again to permit himself to burden his friend, while also tempting him to stretch his legs of his own accord and enjoy the sun and fresh grass. La Tempête could never say no, Cas found a lot of people couldn't say no to her father. Perhaps that's why the Inquisitor wanted him back so badly...

They prepared for their impromptu outing, calling after the servants and helping them saddle, her Papa sent a message with one taking a length of time to adjust his awaited appointments with his Uncles. When he had finished he had leaned back and looked over at his daughter with a rueful shrug. "Let them stew, they have had plenty of my of my time and council. I have other matters of importance to attend." The way he had deferred his plans spontaneously and implied her of being importance made her heart swell and soon both were racing out the gates with out delay. They had spent a good half hour breaking their mounts into a full run, Cas was always disappointed she could never beat La Tempête, Edwick's horse moved like black thunder clouds twisting in to the winds of threatening danger and how her Papa moved with him. Never actually she realized steering him but fully leaning in almost whispering between them. He seemed so boyish despite his haunting wolf mask adorned on his face. He laughed heartily at the sport. A wolf and a horse side by side, nothing was an obstacle for the pair.

When it was clear Cas and Bisou were no match they slowed allowing them to catch up. They coaxed their mounts down the road, Edwick pausing to survey the land around from time to time as if expecting something to appear. Bisou was too busy looking for delectable late blooming spring flowers to pay much attention. Eventually they ambled on taking their time with their outing, finally having her Papa's ear to dump every little thought she had all week. They had only been interrupted when they crossed paths with a merchant, who was relieved to see them - having had his wheel it appeared stuck. Edwick was a man of his people, it was never beneath him to lend help as it would be for his Uncles. Cas loved that especially about her Papa. He had swung down and greeted the merchant to ease any fears they might somehow be brigades, but the masks they wore plainly revealed their status and family line that it wasn't questioned. They got to speaking on what had happened, and then set to work on fixing it. It might have needed more people in any other circumstance, but it was a testament of Edwick's strength that this seemed effortless for him to tackle. As if removing a thorn from his shoe. It took minutes when it it could they could have tolled on for hours. The merchant was enthralled and very grateful which led him to happily to show her Papa his wares and even some items he wasn't keen on sharing with just anyone.

The fell into gossip, what the seller had heard and seen lately passing through. Cas had long since lost interest. Men talk. And it was that way for some time, the two of them carrying on as Edwick made his selection. He had just gotten to the gowns and had tried to engage his daughter. She rolled her eyes and gave an audible groan of disgust. "I don't want any dresses!" Edwick ignored her, holding each one up and giving the seller an over brimming wealth of compliments. Cas sucked in her cheek and chewed knowing her complaints would fall on deaf ears. He would have to have the servants wrestle her into one of those stupid dresses, and be so proud of her becoming a lady. Yet sad, he did not find any joy in her aging which confused her. As an adult she could do whatever she wished, and he would always say softly and half halfheartedly "You would think my pet, and I wish it were so..." it made her uneasy, just like how her Uncles seemed to always look at her - as if she weren't a person, just another pawn to move across the board.

After a while she had yawned and took to wandering somewhat a way from the cart just up the slope to get a better view. Edwick was always aware it seemed and mid sentence without looking would half shout "That's far enough Cas." And so she sat tears of boredom in her eyes, disappointed further that she hadn't seen the clan move as they were often prone to doing these days. No elves. Not a one. She became restless wishing she could whip the reigns into a light snap and race across the Plaines. She bet anything that maybe they were just over the next hill range, which didn't allow her to see as well from her vantage point. She liked to imagine a short ride over might satisfy her curiosity but Papa was so occupied. She cursed not loud enough for his hearing, shortly her attention snapped when over the cloud canvas she saw movement up in the sky.

It was a clear outline of a fine hawk making its swift flight over the valley. Cas was immediately reading her bow only to stop at notching the arrow when she realized defeated that the bird was just out of range. She hadn't known what had spurred her to act so impulsively she figured it wasn't far at all, and certainly there was nothing to worry about.

"PAPA!" She hollered over, interrupting them conversing, the Orlesian word for Hawk on her tongue. She had gestured and Edwick glanced from his bartering to the vague direction of the sky. His trained eyes saw the hawk, he was just about to say well who knows the words died in his throat as he snapped his head back at the sound of hooves beating down for road apprehension seized his heart suddenly. His daughter was taking off in the direction of the bird of prey. Herself nearly out of sight with such a mare as her being guided to properly give chase. The last he saw was her inky black hair unraveling and pulling with the wind behind her swan like neck. He started at once after his mount to pursue her - but the merchant he had been speaking with who had seemed so amicable grabbed his shoulder firmly. He was rightfully upset with Edwick to be making off with his wares before payment. When the former Inquistor-solider realized what was still in his hands his back mullers set into grinding with a brisk grunt to follow. His daughter slipping away anxiety growing with every second passing. It took him a moment to register the awkward situation and then out of frustration he reached for his purse tied to belt. His fumbling seemed to add to the tax of time Cas was slipping away. He strained to hear if her horse was still galloping audibly but he was sure it was just his imagination trying to poorly assure him. Without thinking he threw his purse haphazardly at the merchant quickly spitting that he could keep it and directed him where to go to deliver the supplies.

He definitely over paid and if the merchant showed any fret over it, it wasn't shown with their Fox like mask shielding their face. They only seemed slightly dazed watching Edwick jump into his saddle and reign in his destrier with such dexterity and grace it was almost alarming. La Tempête seemed to regard the situation with harsh trumpeting bray, swinging his front legs up as he reared kicking powerfully that the merchant almost stumbled back fearing he might be trampled. Edwick gave a sharp kick to his mount and off they went thundering down the beaten path. He reasoned he would see her at any moment, he had often told her time and again to never stray from the path. But as he began his patrol his anxiety only surmounted into a dizzying crescendo. No one was on the path, and there was a sharp bend around this Plain. He turned on it looking for obvious signs of dust still settling from Cas's filly having kicked up swiftly passed. His gloves tightened, his face bent thankfully hidden by his decorative darkly embossed wolf. If it weren't for his mask he might have looked so stricken with grief that someone might think he was possessed with madness as every scenario of possibility of what harm could befall his kin played ceaselessly and in grim detail. To his relief and added despair they came across Bisou unabashedly tied to a tree browsing the grass, no rider in sight. He pulled up abruptly expecting to see his daughter thrown to the ground her neck twisted and snapped, or for a trail of blood to ominously lead off somewhere. He didn't know if it was comforting that he saw neither. He realized slowly that the the glen of wood was too thick and unpredictable to ride through. Cas must have dismounted to gone in - he concluded she must have shot her bird and the possibility of it landing somewhere inside had led her to haphazardly to pursue.

He cursed, grinding his teeth again. Should he stay and wait for her to emerge, should he follow? Was that even what had happened? He looked between the two horses as if expecting them to speak. He took his blade a rather sizable piece of metal work and untied it from his horse and set it at his backside. Made of pure dragon teeth and bone it would cleave anyone in half if they had wanted to taste his blade. He hoped he wouldn't need it. He hurried in seeing a path or what appeared to be one picked out and wove between the trees looking for signs to track his daughter. He nearly gave a shout of her name but withheld worried he wasn't the only one out here, he didn't want to draw attention to her missing, not just yet anyway. He hurried on pressed to find her safely.

 

[LittleLux]

DRAGON AGE ORIGINS INSPIRED.
Intro for my dwarf! she has a run in with a warden and will eventually become a warden herself, but first she has to escape the underground carta organization!

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"Name your price Precious."

"I want out."

--

Lark hung back within the alcove of the abandoned city, she had two fellows accompanying her, neither one was Leske. Not that she could count on that sodding dwarf to do anything without a "HEY LARK" nagging every five minutes. He's probably back home with a piss drink and some company to keep him warm, betting I won't go through with it she thought with a smudge of a smirk on his behalf.

"I guess that's the difference between me and you Solroka," he had said once to her with as much affection he'd allow himself, an easy laugh as he considered - would she finally cut ties from here and get out? If he was a braver dwarf he might have slapped her ass - but he liked his hands and he instead mussed up her hair some. "You'll do just about anything won't you? ...Just try not to get yourself killed."

No promises Leske.

And now they were here, waiting in a thaig to proceed.
... how had Beraht put it exactly?
The king's spare wasn't above murdering his own brother.
The bait was set, Trian was making his way to the resting place of Ansgar Aeducan into the Gundaar Thaig which had finally been taken back from the Darkspawn...for now. The commotion seemed to fixate on retrieving an old family heirloom, the Aeducan shield. A great reminder of the strength they possessed in the ol' "glory days'' before. He thought the gesture of clearing out the Thaig might serve to soften stone hearts on the assembly, he wasn't nearly as popular as his younger brother or his rivaling house Harrowmont. They had reason to believe along with the shield there would may be a chance of uncovering other lost relics. This was backed up with evidence of a hidden chamber within the tomb. The only key into the room was a ring within the Aeducan family, without it there was no way to open the seal, not for a lack of trying, dwarven craftsmanship made by their ancestors before them made it impossible to open otherwise.
It was a clever ploy.

The Prince was expected not to be traveling alone, he'd have a small party to aid in protecting him. Which meant, more bodies. These two dunderheads were meant to help her succeed and report back, Lark would go free from that point - the only thing she had to complain about was the fact that these two sour puss faces would be the last thing she'd be seeing here in Orzammar, well it could be worse, it could be be mother. Their cover was that they were part of the excavation crew clearing out rubble and securing the area of any Darkspawn that may attack. No one would care if a duster went missing. Once Trian entered his family's crypt they would follow in behind, effectively cutting off any route of escape.

There wasn't much to do but wait, and she didn't feel chatty. The two recruits weren't all the greatest conversationalists. They were off to a great start too - one had a plethora of pick up lines - all of which made her feel dryer than the Hissing Wastes. And the other was the opposite, he lacked words but damn could he keep a good watch... on her ass. He finally felt embolden enough to say straight out like cutting to the chase would just sell it to her :
"I'd have you plant yourself right on top of my face, if we weren't so busy fo' Beraht."

She only looked over her shoulder, a lazy buck toothed grin stretched, a wild glint polished up the amethyst color in her eye which seem to say Oh? Can I now?

It was all she could do not to laugh outright. "Why?" she teased, "Is your nose bigger than your dick?"
Apparently they weren't much for talking after that

A mitten sized hand restlessly crawled through the brambles of her dishwater hair like a Deep Stalk crawling through webs. It was uncharacteristically of her to be so ...quiet. And yet all her energy seemed to fixate like a hot prickling coal burning beneath her feet. It was almost like a mantra at this point:
His life, My freedom.
That's why she wouldn't hesitate the beak of her ax gleamed. What was a little blood on her hands? A prince bled just like anyone else.

Except it hadn't played out as she had anticipated.

Everything sort of slowed, it was a chain reaction. Certain details were more focused, and others lost. Only a series of things triggered that stood out to her, like a black out drunk she only had these small windows of her own actions to piece together how it all went wrong.

The prince approached, the arrangement was kept, they all went in. Even before the door had a chance to close, Trian sensed betrayal. Apparently not everyone within his own party was loyal to him. It didn't matter, and there was no going back from this point. Lark acted to take advantage of the confusion before she lost her chance.

There had been a barrel of pitch she had pushed over, they moved sluggishly.

At some point a bottle, one of her own had clinked and rolled to the corner of the Sarcophagus. The old hand carved casket had begun to dip into the crumbling foundation, the floor weak from years and years of disrepair and no one to repair it. The explosive was only meant to hinder her enemies..

There was a clarity in her voice, a satisfaction to have the upper hand.

"When you see our ancestors, tell'em--"

Instead, the moment it went off she found herself tumbling through into the deep pit of the underground.

The echoing sound of the explosion replayed - she could feel it all over again, suddenly within a moment she was awake. Her lungs exploded, she coughed and coughed choking on the cloud of debri yet to settle. Worst was the stench of this vent they had fallen into, the stone was crudely cut away and everything seemed to rot. She had thought old Ansgar's chamber had been ripe, a draft of this strong pungent odor sent a tingling dred sinking in the pit of her stomach. Only one thing could be responsible for this. This was the last place she wanted to be.

The darkness was broken up by shafts of flickering light heated from the lit blazers that had managed to survive from the ruckus above. It was the only sign she knew she wasn't dead, as of yet. A sharp and searing pain licked across her tatted brow. It had the stinging sharpness of a smart whip. A shaky hand prodded it,hot blood rushed spilling down around her eye. She was sure she had received this injury just before she fell... Well, that wouldn't be the thing to kill her, and she had other things to worry about other than a little cut over her brow. Like the fact that she had fallen and was pinned like a beetle on her back.

She tried to move, wriggling and immediately an answer of pain slammed into her like a bucking bronto. Two stones were pinning her in two different places. Her shield was bearing the weight of one, which had pinned her arm back - the numbing pressure throbbing through her entire shoulder only confirmed she had somehow slipped the arm from its socket as she fell. The flimsy shield took a battering it would be no good to her now, but it had protected her nonetheless.

The worst, she could feel but not see was when she had tried to twist her foot free. Heated pins and needles began constricting down the shaft of her ankle. Her jaw snapped shut and a low reproachful growl flared through her nostrils. Moving had only closed in more space, the heavy stone now pushed down on her like a snare.

She felt like she had good odds, considering only half of herself was trapped.
It didn't stop her from attempting to free herself once more, like a fish she flopped, telling herself to push pass this discomfort. With her one good hand she floundered for a decent grappling, trying to muster the strength and the leverage of her shield. There was progress the slab seemed to budge until she faltered in her grip. It slammed back down on her and the pain amplified, she couldn't hold back and belted a miserable cry that echoed back to her.

"Fuck me!" and more exploitative followed suit.

That was going to be a problem and it would take a miracle for her to get herself out of this one

 

[LittleLux]

OC BLURB.
something I felt like writing for an au of my ocs
very dead by day light / stranger things inspired!

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It was well after midnight, two figures awkwardly walked along the sidewalk under several lamp lights. The delay seemed to come from shorter and broad shouldered gentlemen. His feet stumbled every so often, unsure of the next step he was taking but confident enough to brazenly stride forward. Next to him his companion, maybe more depending on how he played his cards tonight - was...Wick? That didn't sound right, his brain sloshed trying to recall what she had exactly said her name was. All he could conclude was that it either started with Wick-Something or ended with Wick-Something. He didn't want to dwell on it, he was terrible with names anyway, lucky if he remembered his own.

Anyhow, Wick picked up the slack trying to evenly pace them, patiently guiding Allan home with one arm wrapped around, the other carrying her saxophone case, truly a feat in itself to manage both. They hadn't exactly finished their night, their routine interrupted had made Allan cranky. He had worked hard to get Wick a spot to perform at this popular hang, and to see her slighted by the owner who was clearly a trans-phobic prick had boiled him something fierce. Naturally he was prone to starting fights but figured it wasn't worth getting Wick blacklisted over his temper. He soothed it with a few drinks, mingled into the evening, having a good time to spite the owner. He hoped next time he could land Wick a real gig, the kid deserved a shot.

It was Wick who finally cut him off, Allan was reluctant saying the night was young, they could get some food really make the most of it. The bait didn't land, he wasn't sore about it only shrugged, maybe they could decide which home to shuffle back to between them. Here they were, his new found queer friend, a balancing act and long trek to thr bedroom. Allan now leaned into Wick, a little more intentionally so that his dark tussled hair splashed over Wick's shoulder. He had insisted Wick wear his jacket out, it was a brisk evening and the girl didn't deserve to freeze. If he was chilled he didn't feel it, just the warm lurching sensation that he was indeed intoxicated. The coat was nearly comical, and if it weren't for how broad Allan's shoulders were it was doubtful it would have even fit. With the gal being a bean poll, and heads taller then Allan himself (which surprisingly didn't bother him, he liked looking up in Wick's olive eyes...) to add to it she was a toothpick, still, the jacket was too small. She slid into it, but the sleeves stopped at a certain joint, and the rest sort of draped downward silhouetting their figure. She seemed to wear it though like a trophy, which pleased him. A warm thought coming to mind that he might like to see her out of it....This close to Wick he could smell the perfume, which he had complimented on when he picked her up. It was comforting and a little sobering as he finally found a steady stroll between them. Abruptly though he felt a ripping sting cut through his bladder, interrupting the moment. He halted groaning.

"I gotta piss."

"We're almost home." She reached to tug him along but he detached from them, later wishing he had allowed them to coax him safely to his bed instead of what followed.

"Can't wait, it won't be long." Had he slurred? It sounded firm and reasonable to him. He looked and spotted a nice dumpster to mark, already tugging the zipper to his suit pants. He hadn't heard the heels of his companion click away, there was something nice about knowing she wouldn't ditch him. He began to whistle, one of the songs she had played on her sax, she had been better then his shit tune he was poorly imitating. The passion was there though and he carried on in the melody before breaking with a sigh of relief. The pinch in his gut finally unwinding as he drained himself, a pleasure in itself. It was then he thought he heard a sharp sudden inhale. He looked over his shoulder to check, and where Wick had been standing....nothing.

He frowned, feeling confused because he thought he would have heard them depart. Quickly shaking the last droplets he was back to being decent, pawing his hands on his trousers as he turned back looking to spot his friend. He was just thinking maybe Wick had tried to give him some privacy, hadn't taken her for the modest type. He came to the exact spot, and swayed as if a breeze might knock him back. Under the direct light there appeared nothing, his gaze dropped to his shoes trying to steady how warped his vision danced before him. He groaned again, before he felt himself seize, a tension rising in in his shoulders and dropping an uneasy chill down his spine. Just at the edge of his toe was something red and bright... When he shifted his foot it was clearly a blotch. He spent what felt like too long trying make sense of it before his thoughts silenced any excuse - it was blood. And if he looked harder the droplets led slightly to the left down and into an alley way. Had that been there before?

He started at once, his brash impulsive nature pushing him to investigate, touching the brick wall to steady himself along. The blood splotches got bigger and more sporadic, and then Wick's instrument case was in plain sight, laying on the ground. His eyes darted from it to further down the alley making out shadows playing against the wall something wet being worked with. It hadn't been that Wick hadn't tried to make a sound, he could hear it now the sucking desperate choking sounds of someone being strangled. He gave an angry shout, fist clenched ready to swing as he came at once to Wick's aid!

The thing attacking her knew at once Allan had intruded and darted away, inhumanly fast. It made him sick to try and track the movement. Instinctively he moved towards Wick who collapsed in a heap. Before he touched her he knew there was more blood then there should be. He knelt and then gasped shrilly, trying not to cry out. One of her eyes, it was missing, how he couldn't even guess. It was possibly stabbed or plucked out violently. Wick's mouth twisted open one side of it slashed from the end of her lip up into her cheek bone in a crude fashion. Half her face might have been flapping, he felt his stomach lurching. She was struggling to breath. He relieved himself just over her shoulder, feeling the alcohol burn just as badly as it had going down. He got hold of himself, as if purging his body had given him a second wind. At once he started to gather her in his arms realizing there was something warm pooling on her backside. Had the attacker stabbed her from behind and overpowered her into alleyway? Allan thought he would go mad, dizziness wrestling for his will to stay in control. He had to get Wick help, that was a priority.

"Jesus!" He cursed, grinding his teeth trying to steady Wick against himself, wake her up enough to get her to stay with him. He knew moving her wasn't good, but he couldn't leave her. "Come on, hey, listen to me, I'm here, I'm here damnit!"

His voice shook, breaking as he fumbled to press against the wound. That seemed to jolt Wick into semi-lucid state. She couldn't speak only the sound of air sucking in and gurgling a repulsive hiss as fresh wave of shock shook through her limbs. Either her lung had been nicked or worse punctured fully. Fuck. He thought she was trying to say his name, the sound of 'Al' being dragged raggedly through her bloody teeth, her lips unable to move properly. He was about to comfort her, say something dumb and sentimental, but the words died in his throat. Whatever had attacked hadn't left. It came back stalking just on the edge of the shadows. Allan couldn't tell if his vision was to be trusted or if he was truly seeing something horrid. The face appeared distorted, it was hard to say if it even was a face, maybe a mask? There were no usual defining markers that made something...human. except, maybe a smile? It could have been how the light fell awkwardly into a shadow of an open maw with an evil sort of grin. The worst was seeing the tag of paint just behind them, which had a crude drawing of a smiley face. It felt hard to separate the two.

Allan froze, not sure if he could anticipate how the attacker would move, judging by how he had seen it earlier he definitely didn't stand a chance of out maneuvering it. He thought maybe he could distract it from Wick, like a matador leading a wild bull. But then what ? Wick was in no state to help herself. He began dragging her, rushing back as quickly as he could manage between them. He remembered Wick's saxophone case, maybe if he could reach it he could defend himself. They might have a chance. The thing lingered as if enjoying the sport of watching Allan toil with his dying friend. Then it moved so suddenly Allan felt himself go completely numb. He surrendered Wick, dropping her and making the quick call that their only chance was the instrument. He prayed leaving her wasn't in vain. He stumbled turning, it was nearly in his hands, then suddenly something did pierce him, he was afraid he was being gutted. Some sort of weight coming down on his shoulders, trying to turn him. His dress shirt absorbing something sticky and warm...He fought madly pure panic and curses spewing out if him, knowing this thing was overpowering beyond imagination. For once his smaller stature seemed to do him good, he just barely slipped a way, it was enough time he thought desperately. His hands reaching out, the double vision blinding him. But he was certain that he grabbed the case and...

 

[LittleLux]

Emarah Intro
my Minotaur who has been chosen to be a dragon's attendant!

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The exquisite bovine had been patient with the priestesses as they performed their tasks of altering her appearance to present Emarah to their ruler. She had recently come into his homelands having fallen in love with Oasis and adopting it as her own. She sat on the stone disk as still as she could manage, her tail occasionally swinging like a whip with reflexive nervous excitement. Occasionally she had traced her fingers over the dragon carvings beneath her trying to imagine Nove's very essence, half expecting the engravings to come to life before her if she willed it hard enough. Outside the chamber she could hear the frenzy worship and celebration of their deity, her ears occasionally pricked up as cacophony rose and fell like one big heart beat of pure jubilation that merited their rejoice. She'd be surprised to find as she would come to stay that this sound was always present, flowing as steady as the abundent water in this heavenly Oasis. It was no wonder that so many sought out this place, traveling far and finding faith - it was indeed an influence that enamored many who saw it.

To be honest Emarah had never been fondled and fussed over her appearance by others before. It was new change she welcomed, having always taken to making herself prim and modest this was beyond her own skill. It was an understatement to say that she was beautiful, as far as beasts went, her breeding was impeccable. She hadn't thought of herself being of regal stature even though she possessed the proper attributes beyond her class. In respect, she had often been fascinated with two things: her ability to play her lyre, and her father's smithing. Had she been born a son she would have been toiling away at this very moment in his forge, crafting weapons and wonderful relics. But she hadn't, she was who she was and she didn't begrudge anyone for it. In fact up until today she had been waiting all her entire life to be someone's gift. Emarah reflected, reveling that she achieved a prestigious position as the newly selected tribute, chosen out of so many who had come to present themselves - and she had beaten them all.

Her father, a well renowned blacksmith who had remained in charge of guarding the mountain known as Eclipse for its towering heights reaching into the very heavens themselves. Part of his watchful eye was sending his sons to patrol and challenge any who thought to pass freely into their lands, stationed along the adjoining lesser mountain range known as the Kindling peaks that trailed and wrapped around the border making them nearly impregnable. Generations of her kin had lived fruitful in the north, and when this Oasis and rush of trade had become abundant Drayden knew he had wanted to give his blessing and allegiance to Nove. He had waited for the perfect opportunity to present her, finding a perfect fit thatt might meet a match worthy of her beauty. He had seen her as his own pride above anything he had ever crafted. Never intending to keep her, as he had married off her sisters and brothers over the years for suitable matches, it was only a matter of time before she too would leave their home. Emarah had remained mostly idle, taking pleasure where she wanted but always knowing she was special. Everyone had a way of spoiling her, but her father had practically treated her as princess. That sort of love was hard to leave, the very mountain she had been raised in, the constant violence wreaking havoc beneath their hooves, the heat and glow always present in the air. Always it had felt like taking a seat on top of the world itself. She imagined had it not been the great Dragon Nove searching for an attendant that she'd be there now, watching tirelessly her father at work, his immense form beating down the heated metal. Hammering thundering with echoes of piercing ringing with each timed hit, music to her ears - and a sound she might long for in this foreign land above anything. Emarah felt grateful that her father had decided that she would be best suited for the task to serve Nove, to up hold the honor of their name, their home, and gain glory for their house. It felt real every second that passed, that moment was finally hers, a rich smile pursed her lips more then delighted to ascend in privileges as Nove's faithful pet.

They were nearly done now, Emarah looked up and caught sight of her own reflection within the mirror, she inhaled astonished by how different she had been molded by their hands. She has been painted in gold now bedazzled in color that almost made her appear as a statue come to life. Dousing a shimmer of fragrant honey and rose water, the scent growing more intense and maddening the longer she lingered to take it in. The women had teased her hair, making it more voluminous then Emarah had ever seen it. The many brushes they had used over her coat of fur had brought out a new sheen to dark hickory pelt. They had decorated her body from head to hoof with pearls, giving her ornate earrings with jade jewels, rings of rubies and sapphires on her thick fingers. Emerald bracelets and throngs of golden necklaces all swimming down the open space of her cleavage. All the countless gems glistened just as fine as stars. It was a stark contrast to how Emarah had arrived wearing her foreign clothing a simple wrap with hand woven threads a valuable fashion from where she had come from. It had been quickly discarded in favor of a silken sheer cloth a light grey that wove around her frame the stress of the fabric coming together just above her pelvis where it wasn't as transparent. The color only enriched her golden dark skin tone, every line of the silk insinuated the roundness of her hips drawing the eye to the mountainous curves before trailing up to the window splitting from her navel upward to the lovely set of breasts. They turned a burly looking beast into a stunning queen of radiance. Her own satisfaction at seeing herself added to her vision, nothing could deter her now. The last pieces added were golden bracers for her horns, which made the rack less intimidating and more allure of fine Ivory that anyone would covet. She gave a nod of approval and rose from her seat deciding nothing more needed to be added. She simply gathered her lyre having it cinched to her waist side never being without its musical strings.

She was now towering over the servants at a measured ten feet - thankfully the chamber was vast in size that she had no fear of her horns every grazing the ceiling. Unlike her home which had long tunnels and caverns formed by the mountains themselves. Emarah had recalled the countless stories of her great-great-great-great Grandfather having fought with and chased out the dwarves long ago, and so it was a challenge to move through their halls, in most recent years they had expanded the rooms to suit a proper Minotaur but the dwarven craft had been too valued to destroy so it remained. Having this much free space was a luxury in Emarah's opinion, and she was grateful for it.

The ladies gathered around her like hens reaching out for her massive hand really they only needed to grasp a single finger , ready to lead her on. Emarah only paused turning to the trove that had been hauled in when she arrived. She would have carried it herself but she didn't want to spoil her garment, figuring it was no longer her position or task to do such a thing. "I'd like this brought with us, if you will." The women shared an exchange knowing they couldn't lift such a thing, one nodded with a bright smile assuring her they would fetch more servants and that it would be brought along shortly.

"Take the uttermost care with it, it is a gift for your Master." That was all she had to say to have their attention it was then a roar sounded as if on signal for them all to realize their purpose. The Minotauress' heart quickened at the sound of it, a sort of joy that it gave her a fond memory of the very volcanic home she had come from - the voice resonating with how the earth cried. To keep him waiting would only increase his appetite she imagined the desperation of being edged clear in his need. So without further delay she followed as they took the a long the passages. Her hooves clacked delicately, careful not to take a lengthen stride so as not to tear her dress. The sounds that filled the hall gave a flutter of heat deep with in her stomach, she knew the sound of lust and all it's delight-able clamors, never having been permitted into her father's harem chambers but accustomed to hearing his frequent bellowing releases with his many many tangle of lovers. This though was very different, it was if an invisible wall of sound filled every space that she walked through making her blood rush with anticipation. The shock of another roar shaking up the very foundation made them pause, even Emarah could feel herself wobble uncertainly as the tiny hand grasping her own tightened. Not in fear she suspected but there was a sort of cautioned relief when the the last trails of loosened sand had fallen.

They had finally reached Nove in his bathing chambers, once more Emarah was astonished her dark olive eyes blinking with the realization of just how massive her new liege was... She had heard numerous stories, had see carvings, and likeness of Nove rendered. Nothing compared to what her eyes actually took in, which trailed slowly from his tail to his horns measuring the bulk of him before coming to take in the entire scene of his concubines nearly swimming in his relief. He had been taken with them evidently but once Emarah had arrived and he regarded her with interest the lulling haze clearing up at once as his keen focus became evident. She smiled nearly boastful to see the change in demeanor her hands clasped coyly over her frame giving her a girlish anticipation of permission.

Shortly after she had entered the trove she had requested had been hauled in by two saytrs, who set it just to the side of Emarah in plain sight. They stopped to eye her, one even softly whistled before his companion nudged him sharply they disappeared without further interruption into the shadows. Nove had given the command for everyone to depart. A small envy creeping into her to see how he gently placed his scaly snout upon the small space of their foreheads, his precision a sight to behold. When he turned his gaze upon her she seemed to ready herself, any nerves before melting away.

When the audience had fully adjourned she swept forward placing one hoof across the other bowing deeply her breast jiggling in tandem the lower she sank. Her flexibility allowed her very snout to touch the floor kissing it in honor to be in his presence. Her tail curled around her ankles as she remained bent over, head lifting to turn her sultry gaze upon him.

"If it pleases you great dragon, my father Drayden has sent you a gift. Crafted from his very hands, he hopes it will be agreeable to your tastes." she spoke with a deeper warm cadence which wasn't the usual sound of femininity that most were accustomed to hearing.

"How may I serve you this evening O'mighty Nove?" she gestured to her lyre hanging off one side of her hip, drawing her eyes to the trove before falling back to him anticipating what would be his command and great need to be met.

 

[LittleLux]

POKEMON: professor x ex-rocket
Sinis is my character who runs a program to help delinquents change for good, everyone makes mistakes, hopefully the get the chance to change a new leaf!

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Apparently Sinis had fallen asleep, it was evident as the bulky professor lay slouched over his desk. He hadn't even made it to a proper bed. It wasn't unusual, most nights he spent cocooned inside his lab working long hours to catalog the data and write his findings in numerous reports. He was crunching down lately to get things finished if he wanted to have his work posted in the eventual Pokemon Prestige that most researches and Professors submitted. Their field was always radically changing and it was hard to keep up with the current information that was quickly over turned by everyone's generation. His dark hair was frazzled, not that he brushed it much , and had a odd patch of ghost white hair just off to the side of his temple probably making him look older then he really was. His shaggy mane usually kept in a loosely tied pony tail had at some point come undone threads of dark chocolate hair spilling over his shoulders. The paper he had been scrawling on was ruined, he was evidently drooling face plastered against the sheets in a make shift pillow. Sinis had meant to set an alarm, knowing full well that he was expecting a new assistant through his program. In fact the paper he had stuck to his face was the very individual he had been reviewing, making small notes for himself in the margins. Bela's face, the cold look capture in their mug shot being the last he had seen before his eyes gave up in defeat closing on him with a false sense of - I just need to rest a moment lull.

He might have kept sleeping had his faithful Piloswine not come to the rescue, the massive mound of hair glided over to his desk looking him over for a long moment. She had given a soft grunt, trying to get his attention, before she moved nudging her snout against his bare arm pressing a cool wet kiss, nibbling at his forearm. The tickling sensation roused him immediately, he blinked, and then immediately felt the stiffen ache that was regrettable to have slouched over for such a length of time. In his age getting on in the years this was miserable, he sorely grumbled easing himself back in the chair with a long stretch, his shirt un-tucking itself from his belly in doing so. He plucked the paper nearly glued to his cheek, using his sleeve to clean up the embarrassing mess trailing down his chin, it was a wonder he was still single. Whatever notes he had made weren't legible and were ruined now, but seeing Bela's face jolted him suddenly.

"What time - " he started raising his arm to check his wrist watch, he was narrowly about to miss them. Swiveling around and leaping from the chair forcing his legs to shake out of the prickling numbness that threatened to lock them. It was just shy of of noon, they would be here shortly. He combed through his hair, wrestling it back into his trademark pony tail. He had wanted to slip into his shoes but he doubted he had time, he'd have to greet them in his Snorlax slippers - otherwise his lab coat was suitable enough for the greet and meet. He threw his darling Demetria a roguish smile, "Well Dem, how do I look?" Piloswine stood in the manner of deadpan delivery, her face obscured by shaggy hair but he liked to imagine she was being critical of him. He didn't seem to regard her short little snuff as any reason to change, after all he was meeting a delinquent and he very much doubted they cared if he was the epitome of professionalism. They all usually came in with the jaded, bruised, ego of being caught red handed and then being tossed to him. To be honest if he had seen himself he would have never imagined he'd be their last hope either.

He was just leaving, only to slow near the hatchery to spy on the eggs kept safely within. He had hoped as every new day passed that this might be the day they were finally hatched. He had nearly pulled his hair out for year trying to do everything he could to rouse them. Yet, it was another disappointment loading into his gut to come and find them perfectly un-cracked just as they had been when he left them. Since his last trip and their discovery he had wanted to conclude his report with their new delivery, but they seemed to be resisting, why he couldn't guess. They would have to travel with him and Bela, even though he shouldn't trust a former ex-rocket near something so precious, it was exactly the kind of test he needed to put them through by the end of things that would prove to Sinis above anything they'd really changed for good. He sighed caressing the glass wishing he had the answer or whatever it was they needed to birth them, but he didn't have time to linger on it further. Demetria was at the door her piggish squeal of urgency snapping his attention.

"Right, coming!"

The patrol unit had just pulled up to his residence, as he strode through in the main lobby trying to smooth out any anxiety that he had most definitely over slept. He shuffled his hands into his pockets, hardly noticing that his hawaiian shirt hadn't been buttoned up, thick coarse dark hair spilled out over his chest, a trail leading downward leaving a lot to the imagination. His cherry eyes snapped widely for moment, drawing from the officer escorting the inmate who lumbered in behind Jenny...He could hardly believe it was truly them, watching as they manuevered under the automatic door careful not to bump the very sensor. All three of them seemed to stand in a moment of silence, Bela towered between the professor and the officer a truly goliath if he ever saw one. It was very rare that Sinis felt small, he took up the room in a different way with his barrel chest and rotund belly, but seeing Bela really added a new meaning to lethal. The fact that they were compliant when they might have easily overpowered them both was a testament to Bela's nature, or least that's what Sinis wanted to credit them for. He gave a short whistle realizing with just one measured look that he had his work cut out for him, this one was not going to make it easy.

"We really appreciate your assistance in this matter, Professor."

"Just happy to do my part for the community." he added nodding some what gravely he had almost wished Jenny wasn't departing so quickly almost tempted to ask her to stay he wasn't usually so unnerved by convict but Bela reminded him of his sorted past that brought back an uncomfortable memory he didn't want to dwell in. He drew his hand back into his lab coat fishing around until he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, dragging one out and placing it in the corner of his mouth before giving it a lite. Smoking had been his way of immediately decompressing whenever he was a little unsure of himself. He took a long drag finally taking a moment to actually look at Bela once more, meet her eye to eye as if to confirm this was really happening. He considered for a moment before offering the pack toward them, not offended if they didn't take to smoking as he had, but figuring it was a good way to break the ice between them. Demetria was the first to say something, so to speak, she had begun to circle around Bela giving deep snuffles against their ankles the tips of their fingers, tilting their body one way to regard Bela in a long stare despite her eyes not being plainly visible. After a moment there was a mewling oink as if she approved retreating down the hallway. A smile loosened over his lips, Sinis felt his shoulders slacken some given that his Piloswine had better judgement then most people.

"Well, isn't that something." he gave Bela a playful wink, "Demetria thinks you'll fit in just fine here! We just call her Dem though." He scratched at his chest taking another inhale before the smoke billowed out from his nostrils. "I'm sure our good officer Jen filled you in on the details? Anyhow, you're in my hands until I approve that you're as straight as an arrow and can walk free." he measured Bela once more trying to gauge how they had taken the news, what they would expect. "It's entirely dependent on you, you can make this easy, or hard." he gave a casual shrug, exhaling another puff of smoke. "I'm not here to pull a fast one on you, and I'll be as clear as I can, I expect you to keep up. It'll be dependent that you do. Anyhow, I'll save the pep talk for later." he ran his hand down the nape of his neck trying to figure a best starting point from here. "Jus' call me Sinis, none of that professor stuff, and god please don't use my surname, that was my father's and I don't intend to be my old man!" he offered his hand for Bela to take if they wanted, "What do you prefer to go by? You tell me what you want and I'll do my best to respect it, you have my word." he paused once more realizing they had just been driven over from the jail house, as if that fact had somehow escaped him. He didn't suppose Bela had any belonging upon their arrest and that wouldn't due. "Is that all you have? ...well, we'll depart shortly, I have some supplies I need to pick up. We'll get you sorted out."