Scourge's brows were flat as he peered upon the plastic-bagged abomination before them. Bobbing, up and down, and up and downā¦ the cheerful, cheese-dyed faces at the front seeming to taunt them with his empty-headed smile.
"Is thatā¦ is that a bad haircut or-" Scourge leaned closer with a squint. "Oh. Those are just sunglasses." He slowly, slowly turned towards Vic and concluded, "...This is a scam."
It was then that the two were greeted by anā¦ unfamiliar woman. One whose statuesque beauty turned Scourge's head and roused his other head awake. "Huh? Well, HELLO there, gorgeous!" The green giant turned on his stool to face her and straightened his posture. "Ya come here often?" The fact that this alleged stranger seemed to know his name went right over his head. "I ain't religious. I know exactly who MY God is, and he didn't stick around for prayers."
Scourge's shoulders shook up and down as he chortled. "Still, Tussaudsā¦ that's the house with the dead-eyed statues, RIGHT?" He turned towards Vic, his eyes narrowed with a smirk. "We should go there together, Coop. See what 'God' looks like, heheheā¦"
#740c50
Freddie's gaze remained vacant in the face of Justice's words. A vacant gaze to pay tribute to the rich girl's vacant head. It was the loud crack of Reese's skull meeting Justice's that drew a glimmer of attention from her, and she stood on her tippy toes to watch the show right next to Sibylla.
"Wish I had broughtā¦. some kettle cornā¦," she quietly mused.
Reese had attacked the rich girl. Cassie and Lilith swiftly descended to break up the fight. Freddie strolled over to Cassie, one hand raised like the dutiful student she wasn't.
The pale-haired girl beckoned Cassie to hand Reese over. She patted her shoulders, checked her forehead, and squinted, deep in thought.
"..."Freddie nodded once, and looked Reese straight in the eyes.
"You're good."She turned Reese around and shoved her back towards Justice.
The southern Arc-en-Lume watchtower. One of the capitalās many holding cells laid here, beneath the floors upon floors of barracks. Here, under the dim, crackling torchlights and the incessant rattle of chains and shackles, the cityās many thieves, thugs, and other miscreants remained. Some awaited trial. Others hoped for bail or pardon. All, however, longed for freedom. Freedom from the rusted, blood-scented chains. From the stale, dusty air. From the possibility of a worse fate within the Sirenās Epitaph, Beaucourtās most fortified prison, secluded deep within the western mountain range.
The sound of footsteps drew IzāHanaās ears. The bright yellow glow of a lantern peered down the spiral staircase just across his cell. His keen huntsmanās senses recognised these sounds. The familiar, metallic clink and clank of the guardsā steel sabatons, followed by the pitter-patter of footsteps, one with shorter, slower strides than the other.
The faceless armet of one guard looked straight at IzāHana. āHey, Darkie. Weāve got a friend for ya.ā The other guard cackled and dragged the bound form of a drow woman down the stairs, across the cobblestone floor, and in front of IzāHanaās cell. The first guard unlocked the door, and the second tossed the woman inside.
Thud!
Her lanky body rolled over the dust thrice over. The guards shut the door, and began to move along with their second prisoner - a stout dwarf, dressed in tattered rags, with beard and eyes as black as ink. āGuards, wait!ā He shouted. The guards humoured him. The dwarf shuffled towards the drow woman, his arms bound behind his back and secured by the second guard. āDonāt celebrate just yet,ā he spoke, his voice a calm, low warning. āThe Sacred Flame are lookinā through my room in the Jackalope this very moment. Itās only a matter of time.ā
She spat through the bars, spraying it through her teeth and over his face like a snake spitting venom. āInbau aturr ulu lāmaerch, gorraāh,ā she hissed, unable to hold back the laugh in her voice.
Hilgur bared his wide, block-like teeth, his face contorted with layers of wrinkles set by rage. āNOBODY CAN STOP MY EXPEDITION!ā āAlright, thatās enough,ā The first guard decided, and dragged a screaming, squirming, incensed Hilgur away, deeper into the dungeons.
A flash of white darted across her dark face. As she turned around, she disposed of her grin, flicking her gaze over to the shadow in the corner. They were hers, with ashen skin and pale eyes more fitting of their kind. A short rolling of her tongue left her lips instinctively, ending on an inflection. A question. Then she frowned, remembering something, and tossed her head without waiting for an answer, slinking towards the other corner.
Zoltian drow. They werenāt hers.