- From the moment her eyes had snapped open this morning, sinister purpose had been her game for the day. It was true, the woman was a bit older, thirty to be exact, so she was no longer considered a young adult. Even her presence and knowledge pegged her for someone much more mature then she was, but of course, this had been the product of her upbringing. She was raised in much the old ways of the world, when women still married at sixteen and impropriety meant a doomed life as an old maid, in solitude with no one to be a partner in life. This was why modern day beliefs were handy. At sixteen, no one could get married, unless they were in a foreign country, but the America's wouldn't recognize the marriage. One had to be eighteen for the marriage to be recognized and allowed. And many didn't even marry at eighteen, because it was also considered too young. It was old enough to make decisions and be free from the bondage and command of parents, but many were still too immature to understand the levity of marriage and union for life. That worked to Vasilissa's advantage. There were plenty of people, even past the age of thirty who were still single and mingling. Not that it bothered the Guardian one bit, but she didn't feel as though she were alone in the world. Beside,s she didn't need a mate at the time. She was no in power yet. No one loved a bottom dweller. She needed to rise to her proper place in the world before she could have hopes of finding a mate that would be suited to her. After all, if they did not have the same focus and determination for long term projects that she did, there would not be any sort of union, nor would there be an courting or anything else of the sort.
With a smile, the Venture Guardian had pulled herself form bed, freshened up, as she had showered the night before,m and began the process of dressing herself. Perfection was the game. She wouldn't go out looking like she had just rolled from bed. No. She puled on leather pants, and a red turtleneck, tucking the excess shirt into her pants. Then, came the under bust corset vest. She had a small figure, and why she would not complain about it, or the size or proportions of anything on her body. The vest gave her a nice little boost about her torso, to make her look more desirable. Then came the boots, a good three inch stiletto heel with delightful designs along the back. Sure, some would question her choice of footwear given her position in the clan, but Vasilisa would never have purchased anything that she could not move in. She had trained hard to be a warrior, but a fashion sense was a must, especially in New York. With a smile of satisfaction, the Guardian began work on her hair next.It was essential to have everything in place. She sculpted her mess of dark waves into a bump, pinning it, and using hairspray to make sure the pieces were flat. She couldn't afford stray follicles falling form her head if she was going out to kill today. Blood red roses and rosettes formed her hairpiece, and she tucked it carefully into the black mass. Her neck was bared, revealing her dark complexion, and she smiled. Looking over her nails, she made sure they were all in pristine condition, and not a chip was removed from the polish. Then she added a ring, bangles, a necklace, and studs to her ears and the outfit was complete with the black clutch she carried.
Of course, that was just the visual part of the outfit. Underneath the clothing, she carried weapons. She would not be a guardian if she couldn't successfully conceal weapons, thought often times she had no need for them. She did rely heavily on her ability, but she would not be so quick as to rely fully on it. She knew hand to hand. She knew how to use the weapons she carried on her. She had an extensive knowledge of battle play and warfare, but most of that was not needed. The little Princess sitting upon her throne was not as aggressive as she was. She had her prized little slave girl, and that might have been the only person she would show cruelty to, if she even showed it then. To Vasilissa, the Princess was soft. She was weak. She was merely upon a throne because she had the privileged of being sat upon it. She had not earned it. She could not fight as Vasilissa herself. The princess just watched and made others do her bidding. But of course,t eh Guardian did not have room to say things as she thought them, and thankfully, the Princess was a shifter and not a mind reader. Even if Vasilissa was caught for treason, she'd worm her way out of it. She had tactics for this. She was not going to lose this game that she was playing.
With a sigh, she hurried out of the warehouse and into the brisk cold of night. She walked quickly towards the bay, wanting to see the water and bridges. She gave thought to her mount, Magdelena. A horse her parents had bought her for a birthday long past, just as she was. She never saw the beautiful horse, but she would need to go and visit soon. It would be to long a trip, and she doubted she would be given permission to go out and see the horse. After all, the protect of the Princess and the clan was her top priority. She groaned gently, hot thirst parching her throat. She needed blood. And human blood at that. She wouldn't drink from disgusting animals. Not rats, or even a majestic beast. She wanted human flesh between her teeth. With a growl, she took one last look at the bay's waters, the Statue of Liberty shining pale and green in the distance, and she turned her back on the islands and began moving back towards the warehouse. Someone would have brought in a delightful kill. If not, she would organize one, with permission of course, given that there would be no other way to go about it. She would slack her thirst. She wouldn't allow herself to burn in agony with waiting.
Magdelena
Outfit: Clothes
Music: I will Prevail
OOC: Good stuff? :3
Outfit: Clothes
Music: I will Prevail
OOC: Good stuff? :3
