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Post by Rogue of Night on Nov 11, 2010 19:05:51 GMT -7
ooc: Daemon's in charge, but okay  bic: The second-in-command arrived around noon, and upon noticing the demon had not yet moved, returned out into the camp to get Daemon something to eat, and something to drink. |
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Post by Cute on Nov 11, 2010 19:17:03 GMT -7
Rosie had been gazing into the water since she had awaken. She was carefree, yet her mind always wandered to Daemon. Rosie shook her head everytime this happened.
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Post by Rogue of Night on Nov 11, 2010 19:23:01 GMT -7
The man returned soon enough, setting the tray on the bedside table. "You need to eat something."
Daemon grunted as the man turned around and left.
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Post by Cute on Nov 11, 2010 19:25:19 GMT -7
"Come on Pickle, we have work to do." Rosie stood up and stretched. It had been awhile since she had taken care of her beloved dragons. Pickle tailed behind her and they were on their way.
--
The dragons came in many colors; hues of red, blue, orange, and brown. They were huge in size, their tempers varied from kind to kind. Rosie had fed all of them one by one. It wasn't a hassle, they enjoyed her company and she enjoyed theirs.
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Post by Rogue of Night on Nov 11, 2010 19:30:07 GMT -7
ooc: Do you mind if we take a break for awhile? my head hurts from trying to come up with something to do Dx
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Post by Cute on Nov 11, 2010 19:31:06 GMT -7
ooc.
Haha alright xD
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Post by Rogue of Night on Nov 13, 2010 20:40:49 GMT -7
It had been three weeks. After a great deal of meditation and talking with his ancestors through telepathy, Daemon had been rejuvenated and renewed. His memory had been wiped of any unwanted thoughts, Rosie being one of them, as she had been too painful to remember. He now had no recollection of her, and he went about his duties as Thieves leader without fault. Subaia had come to check up on him - duel him, rather - but he had beat him each time. Daemon was strong, cunning, and powerful. No one would stand against him.
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Post by Cute on Nov 14, 2010 8:18:28 GMT -7
Rosie had also forgot about her former lover, yet everything went down hill for her. She would stay in the room, in the castle for those three weeks. Rosie would always crawl up in her bed, and spend her days sleeping, and staring at inanimate objects. At times, she would take strolls along her forest, wearing only black, as she wanted to blend into her surroundings. Rosie rarely talked when spoken to and would turn down anyone who entered her room. Reason for this behavior? As Daemon had left the picture, she figured to had nothing to look forward to. So, the Drelf chose to rot away.
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Post by Rogue of Night on Nov 17, 2010 11:35:03 GMT -7
A falcon landed deftly on the man's shoulder, and he offered an arm so it would land near his wrist. It shrieked, and he held up a hand, a piece of raw kill manifesting in his palm. The bird began to feast, while he continued to stride across to the meeting place, eager to look over the new applications. There was one in particular he was most intrigued to read about; a young woman with grand beauty and splendor about her. The thought brought no end of joy to his mind, and he slipped inside casually.
He sat at his desk, immediately seeking out the form. Her handwriting was neat and perfect, while her features were elegant. He couldn't understand why someone as beautiful, and with such upbringing as herself, would want to join his ranks. Daemon wouldn't question it though. After all, why question a gift?
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Post by Cute on Nov 18, 2010 19:09:51 GMT -7
"Wake up."
"I refuse to."
Nikoles sighed at the sleeping Drelf. She's been stuck in her room for weeks.
"Please."
"Why.."
"We're going strolling."
"... Give me a minute."
In about half an hour, Rosie was up and ready. She wore an elegant creamy white dress and a bow. A parasol was what she held.
"You look lovely.."
"I wish.." Rosie whimpered. She placed her arm around Nikoles's and headed out.
--
Rosie and Nikoles were strolling near her Glade, her parasol covered her lovely face.
"Why must you hide it?"
"Hide what?"
"Your beautiful face."
"My face is full of disgrace."
Nikoles chuckled at her words. He leaned down and pierced her cheek with one of his fangs.
"Oh."
"You did it on purpose."
"....."
"Well, it's already spilt.."
Nikoles licked the tricklets of blood flowing down her cheek.
"You're getting hungry for me."
"That's why I love you.."
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Post by C H E Y E N N E on Nov 18, 2010 23:03:41 GMT -7
ooc;; BECAUSE I COULDN'T THINK OF A BETTER NAME IRENE'S STAYING xD
Ignore mistakes?
bic;; The surroundings were odd, that she could not deny - a setting of something so dissimilar to what she was used to that she couldn't even describe it, even with an intense vocabulary that came from years of forced studies.
It was just... different. If she had to pick one word, that would be it. Different from the rich tapestries, the bright colours, the intricately-woven every day clothing that she had taken for granted every day... It was different.
But, well... Irene Stirling sort of liked it that way.
There were others much like herself: new recruits who had each sent in an application to join the thief band, and sometimes Irene found herself almost wondering why she had chosen to do this - something so drastically unlike anything she had ever been taught to do. She could not fight, she'd need a teacher, she could not ride like the men did. Although she had all but mastered the rather difficult act of riding sidesaddle, she knew it would be useless here.
But she'd learn. And that was what she had written.
And there was stuff she could do, too. While she could not handle a blade with the expertise that many thieves and knights did, she was fast - quick, agile, and fast to pick up anything new she learned, especially if it was important to her. This was important. She told her pessimistic side that she would be fine.
She could weave, embroider, sew, mend... and those skills didn't always apply to just trivial womenfolk things: stitching an open wound quickly, effectively, and cleanly could mean the different between life and death. She could do that. And though it might be squeamish at first, she told herself it was like that time her horse, Keira, had torn its side after her brother practiced jousting in a poorly constructed, loose-and-jagged-pieces-of-wood-stick-out-everywhere arena.
She could also play music. Not the clavichord or the harpsichord, as her family could, but the violin - a fiddle. And while this was not entirely an asset in all senses, it could provide small amounts of entertainment on dark nights, filling the crackling air with sound as the notes entwined themselves with the spark from the fire, mixing with the boisterous laughter and singing from the others. She could also coax some chords from a harp, for though she wasn't as proficient with it as she should be, she could make it sound like she was, if motivated.
It was times like this that made her wish a noble woman's education wasn't as utterly useless as it was, but she could not complain. She could read, she could write, she could argue if she had to, and she could stand up for what she believed to be the truth, even if it turned out she was wrong in the end.
She'd try to help the band out however she could.
She just hoped that it would be enough.
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Post by Rogue of Night on Nov 18, 2010 23:10:53 GMT -7
"You are Irene?" Daemon inquired slowly once the woman was brought before him. He looked her over once while rising from his place. The falcon flew from his shoulder, skirting out of the shelter and into the sky.
The demon's eyes glittered in the low lighting as he came around to inspect her, giving her a once over look before taking her chin in his hand gently and turning her face. His inquisitive eyes roved her form a moment before nodding with, what appeared to be, approval.
Now, he already knew what her skills were, but he chose to ask anyway; "What do you have that we can use?"
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Post by C H E Y E N N E on Nov 18, 2010 23:19:24 GMT -7
She blinked. The question had been expected, and she had been ready for it, initially, but now, being rather distracted, she struggled to remember her sentence, and what she had been thinking about just moments before.
"I can sew," she said at last. "Wounds, clothes, repairs, shelters - anything you want. I can read, I can write, I... I can play music, and ride sidesaddle well, and I'm fast, and I can learn!" That last part was said with a great source of passion as Irene's hazel eyes lit up. Her fingernails dug into the palm of her left hand, and she reached up to lightly brush a strand of dirty-blonde hair from her face, the traces of brown mixing themselves into what would otherwise be long, wavy flaxen hair. "I can do whatever you want me to, sir!" She said determinedly. "Whatever you want, wherever you want it, and whenever you request it be done by, to make up for my lack of... fighting with any weapon, I suppose. And for my... inability to ride like... a man."
ooc;; Whoa, my roleplay style is different for this character xD
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Post by Rogue of Night on Nov 18, 2010 23:22:58 GMT -7
ooc: I like it =)
bic: Daemon chuckled a bit. "No need to feel nervous. We don't bite..." he turned around to return to his paperwork. "Much."
He didn't sit down, rather took up her file, and started from his shelter. He motioned for her to follow.
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Post by C H E Y E N N E on Nov 18, 2010 23:26:40 GMT -7
Her eyes widened. Had it been that... easy? Had she been accepted just like that? It was rather disconcerting, as she had been expecting something else - a final test, almost. But she wouldn't complain - she didn't know if she could afford to. She'd do what was required of her, no matter what it was - this she promised herself.
"Pardon me for asking, but why are we going over here?" Irene was startled by the sound of her own voice, having not meant to speak originally.
ooc;; I'm glad ^^
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