Candi Cosmo
Omnipresent Genius
Candi Cosmo
Omnipresent Genius
- It was an odd thing, a place that felt so familiar, but at the same time so distant that it seemed it never, nor ever would exist. Chirping laughter echoed like distant harps plucking in the depths of a barren coliseum, the sound buzzing through one’s ears as if it bounced from acoustic boards. There seemed to be no life, yet an abundance of it. Glittering, glowing trees, covered in hues of blue and orchid bark twisted like a sheetless canopy, their silvery white leaves blocking out the light and creating a halo of glimmering beauty against the pale green grass below. Flowers of goldenrod sprouted from the trunks of every tree, their petals blooming in the shape of the sun, and even glowing as bright as such. This was truly a place of pure beauty, a holy land which was everything of a stark contrast that was the lands of blood and steel. This was Valhalla, the home to the dreams of the Valhallarian elves, as well as the sleeping grounds for those who’s had their strings of life cut. Ancestors of old, souls predating time itself nested here, their words of wisdom guiding their bloodlines towards the holy paths of sacrifice and success. It was a place that Tannistair, the Tyrant King of Aseidus, Lord of the four realms, had spent many nights of slumber aimlessly wandering.
Stark blue eyes gazed about the weeping trees of silver and gold as the man slowly paced down the same path he’d follow through every journey of this dreamland. This was a place he’d been told of many times as a child. His mother, the carrier of Tannistair’s elven bloodline, had always spoke to him of the sleeping land of Valhalla, a true Eden among the lands of sin. Though, the King had yet to discover the true meaning or reason of this holy land, he would never tear his eyes away to miss a single thing. This was a place of which his mother had always dreamt of living in. A world of true peace, she had told him once, if we could all let go of our anger and spite, throwing all violent urges into the sun, then perhaps it could be like Valhalla on earth. Tannistair could never say anything back to her, though silently, he had always promised her such a land. If there was one woman who deserved the peace, it was his mother who was no longer a dreamer in this land, but a spirit who lived within. Her voice was now distant to him, her looks only faded images from a child’s perspective. Yet, Tannistair would never forget the silent oath he made to her, and for the land around, to bring eden to the four realms.
However, her ideas of throwing the darkness into the sun was anything but realistic. No, Tannistair knew the means in which he had to take to create his world of sanctity. Vaingloriously, He’d discovered the route in which to take, which was to act like a hurricane, washing away the current world status with destruction, to leave behind a clean, untainted land to be built upon. Once given the clean slate, The Tyrant King and his Eden would rise above the rest.
Now, though, he was not in that dark world. He was in Valhalla. It was not the time to be planning war, nor commanding armies and assassins. No, it was a time of peace. Stopping before a thick, and weary tree, so old and full of wisdom, Tannistair raised an arm towards it. His calloused hand pressed against the coral bark, which pressed back as smooth as a crystals flattened surface. His blue eyes looked over the trees trunk, following lines of swirling design which held the mixture of colors and lined with what looked like small, shimmering gems. Gems that were like his mother’s eyes staring peacefully back at him. Though, it was not a simple comparison of looks. This was his mother’s new form, that of a spirit whose lives no longer among the living.
“My path will soon be unwound, mother.” Tannistair’s low voice matched that of a deep cello, a twist of sound which could only happen while in Valhalla, alone. “I will bring peace to the four realms.” There was no response, yet the king continued to speak. “I will rule with a steady hand of justice.”
“Go forth.” The trees of Valhalla spoke out, words whispered across a light breeze and wrapping around Tannistair like the gentle arms of a loving parent. “Your hand is strong. Your heart is just.”
There was no look of surprise as Tannistair had received his first ever reply from what was to be the ancestors and their deep knowledge. He only stare back at the tree which was his mother and nodded. This time, it was Tannistair without a word to reply with. Instead, he leaned forward to press his pale lips against the bark of the strong tree before him. As flesh touched nature, a wave of deep colors, like a rainbow after a dark storm in a setting sun, cascaded over the colors of the tree and disappeared into the forest. There was nothing left to be said after that. Silence triggered the awakening, which also signaled an understanding of land and man. It was time for Valhalla to sleep in waiting while Tannistair woke and took action.
------ʀᴀʏs ᴏғ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴘɪᴇʀᴄᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇɪʟ ᴏғ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇss------
The king opened his eyes, this time not to a land of beauty but a land of morbid darkness. Morning do not bring Tannistair to smile, but instead to scowl back at the world as if it was looking back at him in mockery. Silken sheets felt like piercing needles against his skin, as the sun that shone against his eyes felt like a blinding light, meaning to burn him away. Quite a difference from the welcoming dreamland of Valhalla, which would always welcome him with and embrace that only nature could warrant.
Tannistair was not given much time to further assess the difference between dark and light between worlds. His awoken gaze turned to Liall, who was currently at the bedside, his hand covered over his eyes as his body trembled. It was an obvious reaction, that Tannistair knew of, that the Yeivi was having one of his visions. From what he could tell, the act was if nothing else but uncomfortable, yet Tannistair felt little sympathy for such a thing. With a gift like that, there is always a sacrifice to be made, and from that sacrifice came a benefit that could bring kings to rise and fall. Such a thing was to be blessed and not feared, nor pitied. It would be a waste to coddle something so useful.
However, this Yeivi was also a center of passion for Tannistair. A being that was not only a prisoner of and old war, nor just a tool to be used to win new ones, but a being in which the cold, somber-hearted king was finding love in. He’d made sure to express such feelings in the only means he knew he could do so, without giving into the weaknesses and vulnerabilities of love. To anyone else, emotionally and characteristically, Tannistair was a king, a man of power, and a tyrant; to Liall, Tannistair was a fool of passion in which he was still learning how to deal with. Last night had been an attempt in revealing such a thing.
Pushing himself to sit up, Tannistair kept his gaze on his lover, his scowl soon lifting to an emotionless line. He soon moved closer to Liall, his arms slowly snaking around the other’s bare midsection and pulling him close, his legs surrounding him and hanging off the bed. He could still feel the Yeivi tremble, and knew he was still seeing said visions, whatever they were. He’d wonder if they were profitable, or rather, he had no doubt that they were. Come good news, or bad news, it would bring the king his next plan of action.
“What is it you have seen Liall?” He finally spoke, curiosity get the best of him.
His lips left gently kisses along the other’s neck as his roughly palmed hands caressed the soft skin of his stomach, not meant to sooth, but to simply touch. It seemed Tannistair simply wanted to devour every part of the being he now held in his lap. However, as he heard the broad response, all action ceased. No answer was a waste of an answer. How could Tannistair work with something he knew not of. Granted, he did know that Liall did not always get visions that dealt directly with him, but it was unlike his Yeivi to not speak of it. He blandly returned the kiss he was given, disappointment riding the gaze he returned to Liall. The king was far from happy with his seer.
------ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴘᴀssᴇs ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴡs-----
“We move forward.” Tannistair spoke, his attention directed to not only his lover, but the room itself, the day entirely. Today was the beginning of the end; and an end that would lead to a new beginning.
Not giving Liall the chance to even give a thoughtful response, the King moved past him and exited the room. There was no need to wait, at the moment, he was no where pleased with this morning’s actions, so there would be no wiggle room giving to his property. One would earn the givings from the king. In his mind, nothing was being earned here. Tannistair had not asked if the vision involved him, no, he had asked what the vision held. He was used to the complaining of the other, his love had an attitude. Tannistair was not in the business of breaking that away. However, disobedience was unacceptable. Punishment would ensue as soon as he finished with his business of the day. So for now, his yeivi was to be forgotten until later.
Upon approaching the map room, Tannistair assessed the situation. It seemed a meeting had already taken place, or was still being held. A large group of his employ was standing, waiting outside of the battlements. Whether to be instructed, or to waste time, He had no care for it. As he grew closer, Tannistair raised his hand, dismissing whatever current discussion was currently underway.
“Settle your personal business elsewhere, and not on my time.” He instructed to them all as he pushed past the group and into the room. “Unless I am mistaken and you are all women who would rather stare at paintings and gossip over one another.” He added gruffly without looking to a single one. Obviously, Tannistair was in no mood for this, and simply wanted to get what was needed done.
“We will be moving forward.” He stated bluntly, expecting his subordinates to have taken the hint and followed him inside. It would have been foolish for them not to. Tannistair was a tyrant after all, and had little patience.
DATE POSTED: O6/O9/2O13
Candi Cosmo
Omnipresent Genius
- A small twinge of glittering pride erupted through Romaro as he watched his companion wait for him. To see a day when the one person who had an ego that could rival his own would be leaning on someone for help, well, the look in Romaro’s slightly widened eyes could say it all. Syris may not realize it, but Romaro had just earned himself a leg up in their little game. It was obvious that the technician was out of sorts, and Romaro was sure he couldn’t make it to his lab with any sort of tact of strength. To think the prince was so skittish of simple explosions. he was a weapons technician. What a weakness to have in such a field. The thought gave Romaro a few plans for the future. A dangerous thing to reveal vulnerabilities to an hunter like himself. They were definitely something he would take advantage of. After this mess got cleaned up, anyways.
He twisted grin fell into his usually discontent scowl as he took another look at his room. The quakes had disheveled the place enough for a mess, one that Romaro would be forced to clean at a later date. he despised messes, and lord knew his sister, if she was even alive still, wouldn’t lift a finger to do so. His nostrils flared out as he sucked in a breath of dusty air and glared about. Today was gaining Romaro a nice taste of bitterness, and he was really needing a place to vent it all in.
Upon clearing his throat he met Syris at the door and shut the room down, also activating the air cleansing system to get all of the smoke and dust out of it. Hopefully the generators would be back up soon, the emergency system was faulty and did little for its job. He liked his room to be stiff, and cold, and he’d be damned if he had to wake up in a sweat over this.
A breathy growl floated out as he gripped Syris by the arm and pulled him from the room, shoving him out into the hall so he could close the door and lock it tight. His eyes fell flat as he looked down the hall. The back up lights were barely illuminating the place, creating almost a twilight presence over it. Not dark enough for his eyes to adjust completely, but not well lit enough to make it easy. Clicking his tongue, he pulled a small light from one of the pockets on his person and flashed it towards their destination. A few bodies huddled about, obviously frightened over the current happenings. The looks on their faces revealed the same fear that Syris had a fit of not moments before. His own expression was filled with disgust and annoyance, enough to ward off anyone to ask for any kind of help.
“Stay close. If you get left behind, you get left behind and I’m not coming back for you.” He licked his lips as he spoke, the frustration obvious and evident in his tone.
As he took a step forward, there was another small quake of the building, mixed with the sound of rubble crashing together. Pieces of the fallen tower will still falling away, and knowing how close the two buildings were, it was probably causing damage to the one they were in. The lights flickered for a moment before going completely off, and Rome let loose another tiresome groan at the noises of shock and fear. This was becoming rather ridiculous. Those housed in this building, especially on Romaro’s floor, were supposed to be highly ranked Elites. Why were they all quaking in their boots like lost children? This whole fiasco was proving that many of their faction needed to be set in place, and/or replaced. He was learning that it was no surprise that they had been infiltrated, with what all these peasants skittering about like ants broken from their path. Romaro shook his head in disgust at the scene.
A stray hand latched out to Romaro’s arm, and the hunter tore it away to flash the light in that directions. A pale face and set of wide eyes stare up at him, though wincing slightly at the light. Looking down his nose at the other, he didn’t even listen to what was being told to him. Instead, Romaro pointed to the room behind the person and glared.
“I am not your ********’ savior. Hide in your room and leave me be, unless you want the quake to be directly under your feet.” Romaro snapped before turning on his heel, leaving behind the distraught woman to her own devices. As he kept his light forward and ignored those around them looking to him for some sort of orders or answers, his eyes gleaming nothing but death threats if they piped up to him about any of it.
At the loss of power, Romaro deemed the elevators useless and directed Syris towards the emergency stairs. After making sure the way was clear, he held the door open to let Syris in and followed behind, shining his light ahead. Turning over the railing, he took a look down the shaft of seeming endless steps. He’d forgotten how far up his own room was. There was a small surge of laziness in him as he stopped and motioned for Syris to do the same. His unwillingness to descend down the normal way lead him to the small grapple hook attached to his belt. After securing it to the siderail, he gripped Syris by the waist.
“Don’t let go, princess...” He muttered before kicking his legs over the side and dropping.
Holding the flashlight with his mouth, he guided them down with one arm while holding onto Syris with the other. As he looked around, he judged he’d taken the right path. The stairway was littered with bodies of people who were either trying to evacuate or go to check on their personals. It seemed the Marauders had done well at inflicting chaos within the walls of the Elites.
A sudden blast inside the building they were in shook the building again, and Romaro immediately looked upward to check on the rope they were using as the swung a bit. He tugged on it slightly to check the security before glancing at Syris. One of the labs on the lower levels had more than likely just been hit by the building’s debri, and he was sure Syris was in a panic over it. Granted, the technician’s lab wasn’t the only one susceptible to being destroyed by the equipment in it, but with the way his companion fretted over his own lab he’d known there would be immediate stress over the matter. Romaro really didn’t want to have the prince flailing at the moment, especially when not dangling over a rather steep drop.
After steadying themselves, Romaro continued to descend down the stairs, more quickly than before though. Upon reaching the designated floor, he swung them over towards the stairs and used his legs to latch onto the side rail. He let Syris down first, guiding him down rather roughly before pulling himself next to him.
“All I wanted to do was ******** you and sleep.” Romaro complained as he unlatched himself from the rope, snearing as he turned to Syris. “Someone is going to pay for all of this.” He growled lastly as he punched a passerby who tried to shove past them. “Fools.” He let out a breath as he gripped Syris by the wrist and tugged him along. His level of patience was quickly wearing thin at this point, and if another person decided to step in his way, there would surely be blood.
As they stepped into the hall, a billow of smoke rushed past them and Romaro covered his his face. Narrowed eyes peered through it to see one of the near rooms(not the lab owned by Syris) being tended to by a group of people. The air smelled of different chemicals and gasses, though nothing like the radiation fields Romaro had often had to travel. He retrieved a small mouthpiece from his pockets and handed it to Syris, a device that would cover over the mouth and nose to block out any dangerous chemicals. Romaro simply covered his breath ways with his shirt and pressed forward, his thoughts swarming with obscenities and complaints.
Finally, the two of them had reached their destination. After pushing their way through the crowded hall, Romaro led them into Syris’ fortunately untouched lab. He released the technician to do his tending as he glanced out of the doorway and shut the room back up. As he uncovered his face, he let out a deep fit of coughs and leaned on the wall. His body didn’t seem to be holding up as well as he’d thought it would, being that he still wasn’t at his full capacity from being in the hospital. However, Romaro was not one to give in easily and quickly pushed past his weakness and stepped forward, shining his light over the room to find Syris. After spotting the petite man, he started in his direction.
“Seems li--”
Romaro went silent as he heard some manner of bustle in another part of the room. The hunter knew that none but Syris had any permit to be in here unless given permission, and if the technician was not here, no one had that permission. Narrowed, but alert eyes scanned the direction in which he heard the noise. His steps were cautious, though not entirely steady as he made his way to where he could see a small shadow glaring from his flashlight. Before he could reach the target in his eyes, the threat seemed to have other plans. A dirty, and oddly clothed woman jumped out and lunged at Romaro. The hunter caught her with a grunt and stumbled back, before bringing his knee up into her gut. Before another action could be taken, he quickly gripped her by her thickly curled hair and pulled her off of him. Due to his towering height, he was easily able to lift the woman off the ground, his free hand moving to tightly grip at her throat. He received several painful kicks before she stilled from her panic and her body fell limp.
He let the body fall limp to the ground before turning to seek out Syris once again. Rather than go to him, however, he moved on, now limping slightly, and checked to make sure there weren’t any other hiding out in this room. After clearing it to be safe, he leaned back against the wall and ran a hand through his hair, grumbling a few obscenities under his breath.
“Who would have ever guessed there would be a day that I would act as a guard for the prince.” Romaro spoke gruffly as he shined his flashlight towards Syris and scowling. “You owe me for this one, Syris...” He added with a tired gaze, though anger from the days events bubbling from his expression. To think he was just boasting about the fact that Syris was in need of him.
DATE POSTED: O7/15/2O13
Candi Cosmo
Omnipresent Genius
--ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ sᴇǫᴜᴇɴᴄᴇ--
There was small chatter around her as February entered the glorious walls of the dancing hall.
Sounds and smells of only the finest filled her senses, pulling a smile at her delicately painted
lips. As she made her way through the group of couples, dancing cordially as they moved to a
particular choreographed set of steps made for just this type of celebration. Though giddy at the
sight, February made her way past them for the moment. There were other things to attend to
rather than moving into the swing of fluttering skirts. There was someone waiting for her.
However, the skirts didn’t seem to end. To her left, and to her right seemed like endless rows of
couples, all moving at the exact same time and speed. The song they moved to stayed in tune,
only speeding up at the slight at the end of every sequential step. Her own steps began to move
more quickly, less graceful, as she searched for the end of the group. Her wide eyes scanned the
room, looking over the blank faces who all seemed to be looking directly at her at that same
moment.
In an instant, all dancing stopped and the music went silent. Being forced to stop dead in her
tracks, February came face to face with those that were surrounding her. As her gaze glanced
around in a panic, her heart sped up as she realized the crowd was beginning to close in on her,
their arms reaching forward with a pointed finger. Following their aim, she looked down at herself,
quickly filled with terror. What she thought was a beautiful and eloquent dress was nothing but
sweats and a Tee, which hung loosely at her frame. A sharp breath was sucked in as she jerked
her head back up to look around. One of the dancers had appeared before her, holding a
reflective surface for her to see through. A dark blush of humiliation filled her at what she saw,
which could be nothing short of a hideous being, with an awfully painted face.
Sounds and smells of only the finest filled her senses, pulling a smile at her delicately painted
lips. As she made her way through the group of couples, dancing cordially as they moved to a
particular choreographed set of steps made for just this type of celebration. Though giddy at the
sight, February made her way past them for the moment. There were other things to attend to
rather than moving into the swing of fluttering skirts. There was someone waiting for her.
However, the skirts didn’t seem to end. To her left, and to her right seemed like endless rows of
couples, all moving at the exact same time and speed. The song they moved to stayed in tune,
only speeding up at the slight at the end of every sequential step. Her own steps began to move
more quickly, less graceful, as she searched for the end of the group. Her wide eyes scanned the
room, looking over the blank faces who all seemed to be looking directly at her at that same
moment.
In an instant, all dancing stopped and the music went silent. Being forced to stop dead in her
tracks, February came face to face with those that were surrounding her. As her gaze glanced
around in a panic, her heart sped up as she realized the crowd was beginning to close in on her,
their arms reaching forward with a pointed finger. Following their aim, she looked down at herself,
quickly filled with terror. What she thought was a beautiful and eloquent dress was nothing but
sweats and a Tee, which hung loosely at her frame. A sharp breath was sucked in as she jerked
her head back up to look around. One of the dancers had appeared before her, holding a
reflective surface for her to see through. A dark blush of humiliation filled her at what she saw,
which could be nothing short of a hideous being, with an awfully painted face.
--ᴇɴᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ sᴇǫᴜᴇɴᴄᴇ--
“...legs. You're giving everyone a panty-shot."
The words of a painstakingly familiar voice seemed to be the pull from February’s dreamworld, her
sights slowly coming back to her as reality faded into her vision. A small blush twinged at her
cheeks as she recalled the dream, momentarily making her miss what had just been said to her.
With a soft, barely audible groan as she brought her hands to her face to drag her fingers over it.
She hated those dreams, which happened to come every so often when she was truly stressing
over something in her life. Always, she would immediately remember her mother and youngest
sister, their words like a curse that had no redemption.
Fortunately, she wasn’t given much time to stew on the memories as Leo spoke to her again, the
sheer sound of his voice startling her and making her blush. It was then that she recalled what he
had said initially, and the blush slowly crept down her cheeks and neck, creeping its way over her
chest. Letting out a small squeak, she quickly snapped her legs together and pressed her hand
against the cloth that covered over her crotch. As the embarrassment flushed over her, She held
back the urge to cry and instead just let out a small whimper.
“Y-you know it’s rude to be looking where your eyes aren’t permitted.” She pouted back in
response, still not giving him any glance.
After she gave herself some time to collect herself, she slowly pushed her elbows into the grass
to sit up. Her lips formed into a crooked frown once she faced him, her eyes still slightly wet from
the embarrassing moment before.
“Also, I... Yes. I am on duty but...” Looks around and raises a brow while chewing at her lower lip a
bit. “It really doesn’t look like a warzone is about to strike here.” though she defended herself, she
paled just a bit and lowered her gaze some, avoiding eye contact. “P-please don’t tell Colonel
Bothrin...”
Swallowing thickly, February continued to push herself up, carefully moving her Argus out of the
way. Just as she was sitting herself straight, the soft sound of a zipper undoing itself made her
freeze in place, her eyes widening. As she rapidly moved to try and fixed it, her arms attempting to
bend around to her back, the zipper only fell further from the top. As the dress loosened, the front
began to fall slightly, threatening her chest to be revealed. Another squeak left her lips as February
quickly moved her arms frontward to pull it up. As she looked up at Leo, eyes wide, the blush had
returned with a vengeance over her upper half.
Her chest heaved as she stared at him for a good, long minute, though her mind was completely
elsewhere. She panicked as she pushed herself to stand, mumbling about needing to get back to
her room, and cursing wardrobe malfunctions. Though, she’d once heard from someone that such
a thing was good luck, February completely denied it. It brought only humiliation. And in front of Leo
of all people.
Once standing, she did her best to hold her dress up and cover her front at the same time, the
previous movement somehow managing to completely unzip the dress, opening it wide to the small
of her back. Her gaze was glued towards her destination as she did everything in her power to get
away from Leo and her ultimate shame, and towards her designated quarters. In doing so, she
wasn’t exactly paying attention to her footing, nor the fact that she was wearing heels in unsteady
grass.
With only a few steps from her previous spot, February’s heel caught into one of the many
potholes in the soft soil. While letting out a shrill yelp, her body went toppling to the side. Once
connecting again with the ground, she grunted softly, followed by a drawn out whine. Not looking
back, the blond gave up and curled on her side, still holding the dress tightly to her front as the back
lay open. All she wanted to do at this point was crawl under a cozy rock and become a hermit.
“You can go now...” She mumbled, not sure if Leo was still there, but not wanting him to be there
either.
.ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ(courtyard| tab ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏ(leo|
DATE POSTED: O7/3O/2O13
Candi Cosmo
Omnipresent Genius
- As Natalia’s eyes scanned the room of slowly filling misfits, her scowl deepened. So
far she’d called account of a few of her idiots piling in. Of course, there were also the
few faculty who’d also been forced to arrive. Though, why someone would want to
have a medic around for a fuckin’ ball was beyond her. What were they expecting to
happen here? Rather than pass out idiotically decorated bandages, it’d probably be
better to hand out condoms, and sex-education pamphlets. Next morning pills? who
knew. These gatherings were just melting pots for that scenario. Hell, she could spot a
couple on the other side of the room already a little too close to be called decent. With a
grumble, she lifted her hand and flicked her wrist. From across the room, steel legs of
a chair screeched across the floor and crashed against the wall next to them. After
the two stiffened and separated a bit, she moved her wrist again and the chair did a
curve to slam back against the wall, but this time between them. She would have
smirked at the confusion in their faces, but come on, this is Natalia here.
As she took another drink from her cup, her eyes continued to look about the ballroom.
It wasn’t until she set sights on a strange, floating, blue flame. Not really knowing what
to think of it, she sat for a minute just watching it from over the rim of her cup. As it got
closer, her lids narrowed slightly and she scoffed. It was a drink, one that was on fire.
More than likely, it wasn’t just floating either. Which only meant that her dearest idiot
husband, who had a knack for sneaking up on her while invisible, was here as well.
The ******** was late, which wasn’t really surprising. She’d watched him become more
and more lazy over the years. She wouldn’t doubt if he just woke up before coming
here, judging by the messy style he did with his hair. Lord knew how much she
despised the lack of maintenance he did to take care of himself. they were to
represent each other, and he’s going to go around dressed like a [********] scrub all of
the time. And as soon as he was fully visible in front of her, a her scowl deepened
even further. ‘Does this ******** even know how to tie a bloody tie?!’
As Natalia was about to reach up and fix said peeves she’d pointed out, she felt an
arm slither around her. The act also seemed to remind her that she was wearing a
dress, and a blush of humiliation pinched into her cheeks, followed by a gaze that
could sear metal. The ******** was he thinking that she couldn’t take care of her own
brats? That fact only added to the pool of fury that was starting to boil to the brim. Did
he find her incompetent now? ‘Tch!’ She had every urge to pull at his tie and tighten it
until it locked all air from reaching his airways. Then there was the song. That bloody
song.
“Will you ********’ st--”
Her words were quickly cut short as the man kissed her. Through her mind there was
a literally break, like something was indeed snapping within her. Lavender, cybertronic
eyes glared towards him, not once closing during the entire five seconds that they
were connected. As soon as Kaiden lifted away, Natalia took in a sharp breath, doing
everything in her power to not send an uppercut straight through his jawline. It was
times like these that he infuriated her. She knew he did these things on purpose, just to
get that little rise out of her. She’d found that out only a few months after she’d let him
be with her. Kaiden was a complete masochist, that was for sure.
For a moment, Natalia felt a small bit of peace fill inside her mind. The music had finally
stopped. As she turned to see why, though, her slowly calming mind mentally winced
at the sound of the assistant’s voice. Good lord, she already thought his voice was
utterly annoying to begin with. Why did he have to go and use a microphone? She lifted
a free hand to her ear and pressed against it, doing little to block out the annoying
sound. Her eyes fell flat as she was reminded about the missions. Yes, missions. Might
as well call it a field trip for the crew she was with. They were utterly useless and
Natalia had no faith that they would make it through. She did have hope, though. Just
not the hope you would normally expect from a captain. Rather, she could only pray
that maybe one of them would fall, or get lost, or even injured severely enough that
they would need to stay out of her hair. One could only hope.
Setting her cup down on the table near them, Natalia turned towards him, growling
under her breath. As she undid and started to re-tie his neckline, she could almost feel
the most unwanted presence grow near. Just that made her start to tremble a bit with
all of the building anger within. She let out a low snarl at the woman’s words, her
hands moving a bit too strongly as she tightened the tie sharply, even letting off the
faint zipping sound as she did it. Choosing to ignore the northern brit behind her now,
she glared up at the mess of hair. Taking a deep breath, she moved on to attempt and
tame that a bit, making it look less like bedhead and more like... well she made it look
less like bedhead. As she moved away a bit to look over him she inwardly wondered
how this man would survive without her. Well, probably easier to be honest.
“Now you don’t look like so much of a ********’ scrub.” She grumbled, more or
less thinking out loud.
Now, it was time to deal with the Yorki, who seemed to have previously claim territory
where Natalia had rested. Growling, she looked around, glancing over the wall and
table, than a quick shot over the chairs.
“Nope, I don’t see any scratch marks, nor do I smell any piss.” She spoke as
she used her ability to pull a can of beer from the stack to her, cracking it open once it
reached her grasp. “I can stand where I damn well please, Yorki.”
After taking a long chug of the beer, she narrowed her eyes at the woman, obvious
disappointment that she was still standing there. Was Chaeli really being serious right
now? It was pretty obvious who had staked claim here first. Of course, this woman
was one of those cocky women who thought they were better than anywhere else.
Well, if you could call her a woman. Though, if she went on the list of all the ways she
could describe her hatred for Chaeli, she’d probably also be describing herself. A road
that did not need to be driven down. Rather than stew on the matter, however, Natalia
glowered. Shifting her eyes at the table, she let her ability course through her, and
towards it. The table jerked forward towards Chaeli’s direction, with the intention of
bumping into her.
“Go the ******** away, Yorki b***h. I have better things to do than stare at your
ugly mug all night.” She growled before taking the can to her lips again.
.ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ(ballroom| tab ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏ(kaiden , yorki b***h|
DATE POSTED: O8/O6/2O13
Candi Cosmo
Omnipresent Genius
- Tannistair sat at the edge of his designated bed, one leg crossed over the other. His blade, in which he was
currently polishing, lay across the bent leg. His eyes stare expressionless towards the forged steel, almost
as if he were polishing over his own reflection as he peered down into his own eyes. His manner was
nothing less than deep in thought, which was not uncommon for Tannistair. Most times, since he’d rather
seclude himself, he would be contemplating his past, present, and future actions. However, at this time it was
the meet he was about to attend. From what he’d heard, it was a briefing of sorts of his first test as a recruit.
He couldn’t help the small scowl forming over his expression. The thought of being considered a recruit irked
him, knowing that he was less skilled than the majority in his guild; the idea was maddening.
His wrist flicked as he let the polishing cloth slip off the tip of his sword, and his eyes pointed towards it.
After examining the steel, he lifted it from his lap and stood, legs parted. Sliding a foot back, His wrist pivoted
as he carved the blade around. The soft sound of it cutting through the air lifted the scowl away, and his
eyes closed as he ended it with the sheath. Securely hiding the sword in its home at the hip, he tapped the
tips of his boots on the floor before walking towards the exit of his room. It was about time he’d made his
presence towards this briefing.
Tannistair let his eye drift over each of the participants for this meeting, remembering each one of them. Not
that he would find himself sticking his neck out for their lives, but more so judging them on what they had to
offer. He’d wondered what the likely hood of the few to getting into the guild, and what kind of threat they
would be to his joining. He never once doubted in his own ability, but it was best not to underestimate those
around him. However, as he he observed, it didn’t look like there would be much trouble. As his eyes met
those of another, unknown face, his brow cocked curiously. For some reason, he could see the fear in that
man’s eyes. As well as a deep sadness. The thought bewildered Tannistair. What reason would a fresh
soldier have to look so... pitiful? Letting out a sharp breath, his eyes shifted forward again.
As he soon stood before the podium, in a mix of fellow watchers and whispers, Tannistair took in all of the
given information. They were to be clearing out a group of bandits. For a moment, his mind locked up on the
memories of the one “bandit” he’d been forced to diminish in the past. Questioning thoughts entered his mind,
wondering if his soon to be targets would be similar. None of it sounded promising to actually test him. Why
kill a bore you’d already taken out previously? What challenge was there?
At the feeling of someone’s elbow in his side, his mind jerked back into reality. His eyes shifted to the man
next to him, listening to what sounded like complaints. Expression fallen flat, he watched with utter disbelief.
What kind of soldier would be worried about getting themselves dirty? While looking the man over, he
continued to wonder why this person was even wanting to be in this guild. He looked more about fashion
and appearance than anything else. Regardless of his disappointment, Tannistair turned his gaze back to his
face.
“The proper decision would be to make the better judgement.” He answered, facing back towards
the podium. “Though, if you are worried about soiling yourself, I would turn and join a less
militant guild.” His words were not meant as insults, but rather honesty. One like this male did not belong
here. The guild was not looking for laziness in their ranks. “Don’t think about deciding to use me as a
scapegoat, either. I would rather not have someone to tote around like a crutch...” Tannistair
added finally, turning with all seriousness to look at the other.
With that, Tannistair side stepped from his current position, not wanting to be interrupted again. Although he
did not deem the forthcoming orders as a worthy challenge, he did not want to miss any vital information.
Tannistair had goals, and he was not about to let a lacking soldier to distract him from them. However, the
more he thought back on that man, the more he believed he was a simple pretty boy who belonged as a
companion rather than in battle. With a growl, he warded away the distracting images in his mind and forced
himself to focus ahead, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest. He had better things to do than let his
mind run laps over the subject. Like, focusing on his manner towards the mission to come.
ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ( guild hq ◘
ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏ( hansel ◘
ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ( ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮ ◘
ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇ( ▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯ [O] ◘
DATE POSTED: O8/O9/2O13