Rotiart: Mmm, spicy meat . . . I have not had that taste in quite some time . . . *he has unreadable eyes beneath the cloak, but the dark grin was ironically quite viewable*


Bijou: Just consider yourself lucky that one day you don't find yourself face to face with a black widdow. Hnhnhn >3

Rotiart: Spicy, venemous, what difference does it make to me? Or . . . did the lovely lady call herself an insect? *his voice is a low rasp that, strangely, almost borders on a purr*


Bijou: The spider kills the male once his job is done. I meerly suggest that one day, your luck might turn on you, and you'll find /yourself/ the meal, instead of the other way around.


Rotiart: *chuckles softly, the golden bangles shaking slightly* Your portention is hardly neccessary; I already know what my fate will be. Until then, I do as I please, as any demon would before being taken.

Bijou: Fate has a way of changing.


Rotiart: Not for the damned, no. *steps closer, though his head remains dipped to hide most of his expression beneath the hood* The god who seeks me has a funny way of being vengeful. But I have been lacking in my role for his chase and should start creating a little trail for his devouted followers to follow. Care to aid me, she who cries red?

Bijou: Damned, hm? Any truce made with the damned must have a 'Bijou does not get eaten' clause. So long as that's not a deal braker, than I'm more than willing to raise all holy hell.

Rotiart: My . . . she is delusioned into thinking there is need for clauses and contracts. *contineus to slowly stalk forward, something other than gold gleaming beneath the cloak* I make no "deals", woman, for promises are meaningless to me now.

Bijou: I have far grander delusions than that of promises. *all the while Bijou's eyes had conveyed her wicked and wild craze* I only desire to make sure that I shall remain on this earth to grant it every bit of hell that I can.

Rotiart: Hmm. *regards her for a moment* You have the look of taint about you, red weeper. Or perhaps - *another short, shadowy smile* I should say red reaper? What chaos is your wish to invite?

Bijou: Any name you wish to call me, I must say I've earned quite a few. Chaos is another name by which I am known. I seek to cause misery. The sound of families grieving, and the howls and squeaks of pain, the taste of blood and the sight of sorrow are what I live for. I also keep no secrets.


Rotiart: Chaos, is it? I prefer my alliterative moniker; more fashionable. But it seems you and I have a common goal, my pretty red reaper, for I have no use for secrets as well. Indeed, their loss is part of the chase to come.



Rotiart: Chaos, is it? I prefer my alliterative moniker; more fashionable. But it seems you and I have a common goal, my pretty red reaper, for I have no use for secrets as well. Indeed, their loss is part of the chase to come.


Bijou: Well then,.. *her grin turned even wider and her eyes wilder* Let the horror begin.