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Orfhlaith

"You don't understand. I have seen cities fall, worlds exploding and deaths abound. And then found it out it wasn't real."

0 · 421 views · located in Resdreillhm Palace

a character in “Falsum Duomum”, as played by HansenetteHeart

Description

Image

Name: Orfhlaith (pronounced Orla)
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Role: Flawed (Overseer)
Appearance: Orfhlaith has red hair that are usually tied up in high pigtails that clash vividly with her almost translucent skin. She prefers to wear red as, to her, it symbolises the pain and destruction she sees. She also thinks she looks damn good in red. One of her eyes is always hidden and is a light gold speckled with silver. Although it does not see physically, her mutated eye is what allows her to see the futures.

Personality

Orfhlaith is almost completely unconcerned with everything. She has seen every possible outcome that nothing surprises her thus always seems to have an air of complete boredom around her. She wouldn't blink an eye at violence, is unamused with death and really cannot be bothered with sentiment. However, she is not without emotion and holds a soft spot for children who have suffered under the government as she did.

Orfhlaith has a tick in her hand, a nervous by-product of seeing destruction in every minute of the day, that makes her left hand tense up into a claw shape and twist around. She has almost no control over her left hand and the control she does have is limited. Because of this, she usually says that her right hand has no idea what the other is doing.

By the way, symbolism. Orfhlaith likes her some symbolism. If asked questions, most of her answers will be cryptic and symbolic of something. She often speaks almost in verse, speaking to a rhythm at all times. She prefers to make her opinion known by comparing someone to something (a colour or object) rather than outright proclaiming it. For example, being called blue means you are tolerable, orange means you are irking her.

Equipment

Orfhlaith has the ability to see into the futures. Not the future but all possible futures. She can see every possible thread, action and consequence constantly within her head. Thus she has seen the worst that could happen and the worst in people. Her mutation has slowly deteriorated her mind until she is on the cusp of insanity. At times, her actions are erratic, broken and paranoid. Others, she is calm, collected and ruthlessly logical. Just depends on what doomsday she is seeing on the given day.

Orfhlaith is rather apt with throwing knives and uses these as her primary weapon if needed. However, she much prefers to twist minds by informing people of their possible (most likely painful and gory) deaths. Besides. Throwing knives and making someone bleed is so painfully boring when that's all you have running through your head all day.

History

Orfhlaith was not always twisted and emotionless. When she was younger, there was no evidence of a mutation. She, along with the rest of her family, tested negative. Suddenly, out of the blue, Orfhlaith started to get nightmares of cities burning, people murdering each other and everything being destroyed. It all felt too real to just be a dream. However, when she awoke, nothing had happened. This slowly progressed with a young Orfhlaith not saying anything until she started seeing things while awake. The first future she saw when awake was her sister dying of an illness. She had ignored this vision until it had come true. Scared, Orfhlaith told her parents what she had seen and they abandoned her for her mutation. By this point, her deformed eye was starting to gather attention in public and she was retested. Positive. However, when government officials found out what she could do, Orfhlaith was brought to the palaces to oversee the actions of the flawed as well as make sure a certain type of flawed win the Battle Royale each year. Well, it wouldn't do to have any old riff raff becoming ruler. Over the years, sending people to their deaths has had a profound effect upon Orfhlaith and she has become very resentful towards the government. Yet...she cannot risk leaving. She tried before and was merely recaptured and taken back. Besides, where would she go? And really, all the blood and guts isn't that bad. Not when you're used to it...

So begins...

Orfhlaith's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Luther Gottfried von Krieger Character Portrait: Liandre Florenia Ignivicarian VI Character Portrait: Orfhlaith
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Orfhlaith sat in the seat beside the King. Where she was forced to sit. Where she was always forced to sit. She had to make sure that her prediction would be correct. Which it would. It always was. The red head swivelled her eye to look at the guards that stood either side of her. As if they could hold her there. She had seen what they would do if she tried to leave without permission. Three times she was stabbed, seven she was knocked unconscious and twice she was beheaded. Yum. Just what you want to see before breakfast. Orfhlaith crossed her legs and looked down at her flinching hand. It clawed at the air desperately, twisting in its joints maniacally. She pressed down hard on the limb and made a face as the movement became more frantic.

Really. You don't seem to understand you are a limb. If I press down, you wouldn't suffocate. She grumbled mentally, outwardly showing no emotion. The royals were looking forward, eyes trained on the Battle Royale. The overseer fought the urge to yawn. Of course the woman with the metal flaw was going to win. You didn't have to be a seer to know that. Orfhlaith let the corners of her mouth curl slightly as the Flawed put in her opinion on the announcer's mic. Ah, so she did opt for the hand gesture. Lovely. Orfhlaith was concerned that it wouldn't happen. A one in three chance but she knew she didn't have to worry. Her previous visions told her this was one who had to be watched. The princess had obviously "chosen" a good champion...the red head smirked. Oh, how the princess tried to hide things. Obviously she had forgotten about her palace's plaything. The overseer frowned as her hand shot up into the air and then settled back down. The muscles were really starting to hurt from all the constant moving. Orfhlaith looked up in time to see one of the Flawed fighting get stabbed in the back of the head. The blood gushed and was soaked into the thing's fur. She sighed. This was getting boring. She had to leave sooner or later. The red head couldn't very well stay here all day. There was something else about to happen. Something much more important. But before Orfhlaith could put her plan into action, an unwanted presence was behind her. She rolled her red eye. Really. You didn't need visions to know this guy was coming. You could smell his cheap aftershave a mile or ten away.

"Good day to you too." Orfhlaith whispered, eye still fixated upon the match in front of her. Oh dear, that was all the blood splatter they could muster? How dreadfully boring, even more so than normal. The overseer heard a little intake of breath and smiled viciously.

"Oh, I do apologise. You haven't quite managed to relieve yourself of that deplorable pick up line. I am oh so sorry. Do let us start again. Here, you say your bit and I'll just pretend I've never heard it before." The overseer replied monotonously. Honestly, does this man never give up? Not even here, in the Battle Royale, surrounded by the Royals? Desperation was not the word.

"Oh, Orly, you know I love it when you do that!" The overseer winced at the name.

"Call me that horrendous name and I shall have to take action. When in relation with that name and by extention, you, may my thoughts be bloody or nothing worth." Orfhlaith spoke almost melodically, imagining an actor speaking the part. Silence greeted her. Of course.

"Oh, of course. Hamlet? Shakespeare? No? Thought as much. Being uncultured must be awful. I really feel for you." The overseer reverted back to her flat tone, eye glazing over as a new lot of visions came into focus. Boring, boring, oh, a murder, boring, boring, knew his wife was going to have an affair, boring, boring, blah, blah, blah, really, he couldn't tell his girlfriend was cheating on him? Orfhlaith rolled her eye. You didn't have to be the overseer to know that she was two more layers of make-up away from standing on the street corner. The redhead sighed and forced herself to listen to the guard's babbling.

"Comm'on, love! Jus' one drink?"

"Which you shall spike full of some not so legal drugs to get me in sleep with you? Get thee to a nunnery..." The overseer muttered, before looking up at the man for the first time.

"Oh and how is Anya? Still doing the drug runs?" She asked sweetly, watching as his face paled. Ha. He had forgotten she would know. Poor woman was ripped apart after she stole the substance. He had helped. A little cruel for an ex lover but ah, priorities. Besides. There was worse ways to die. Another bomb vision wormed its way into Orfhlaith's mind. Oh great. New bomb, new problems. Where were they finding this decrepit excuses for weapons?

When Orfhlaith finally concentrated on her surroundings, she almost swore (but didn't. Would be terribly improper to call someone a son of a female dog with the King beside you). She didn't have much time left. The overseer stood without thinking and winced as a hard grip clutched her left wrist, stopping her from leaving. Her hand writhed beneath the too tight grip and the redhead was forced to look at the King. His meaty fist was clutched around her slender arm and Orfhlaith felt the eyes of the Royals bore into her. She washed her face of any emotion, looking no one in the eye.

"Where are you going?" The King asked, eyes glinting. Orfhlaith took a deep breath before giving the King a smile that would never reach her eyes. He didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, nowhere. A lady does have to visit the ladies room every now and then, m'lord." The overseer spoke clearly, her voice laced with innocence she didn't possess. She watched as the King's tight grip loosened just as she knew it would. He clasped her left hand gently and Orfhlaith was never as thankful as she was now that her hand never obeyed her. She would have wanted to slap the man. Instead her limb now hung thankfully limp. The King moved her hand gently to his lips and let her wrist go. She felt like shuddering as his lips brushed her skin. Fantastic. Now she would actually have to go to the wash room to get rid of the vile essence on her hand.

"Do hurry now. I never like to have you too far from hand during these times." Orfhlaith didn't have to be a mind reader to grasp the hidden meaning behind that statement. I need to keep you under control and keep my status. "My champion shall be fighting soon, my dear, and I would like to have you nearby to watch." You better be right.

The red head nodded solemnly and hurried out of the Royal's box, stepping around the princess who would try to trip her up. Really, jealously was so childish. Although that horrid woman was very childish even though she was pregnant. She hadn't told her king as she wasn't married yet. And everyone knew what a bastard son could do in the delicate balance of the Royals. Orfhlaith had thought about telling the King but regrettably decided not to. Even though the scandal would be simply delicious, Orfhlaith was smart enough to know when to wait. Besides, when the child was five, that was when things would get very entertaining. The overseer stepped out of the Royal's box, side stepping the noble man outside. This must be Luther, the one who was after Princess Liandre. The overseer smiled cattily. Oh, it was nice to know things before the people themselves did. Orfhlaith gave the nobleman a thin smile before hurrying away. Time was of the essence and she had to be there at just the right time. The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers just as Orfhlaith passed her first "checkpoint". The overseer smiled her Cheshire Cat grin.

Right on time.

Perfect.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Luther Gottfried von Krieger Character Portrait: Liandre Florenia Ignivicarian VI Character Portrait: Orfhlaith
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Orfhlaith walked down the hall, her head held high and smile playing upon her lips. People stared. But don't they always? People had very little to keep their little minds amused anyway. Of course she was going to grab attention. She wasn't a royal yet she most definitely acted like one. She was also definitely a flawed. Her writhing hand proved that even if no one knew of her abilities. She was a half and half. She was a hybrid. She was, therefore, disgusted and feared. She didn't mind. Better to be feared than treated as a joke. But she watched as people looked in the royal box and saw her sitting beside the King. She knew what they all thought of her. More fool them. She swished her long hair out of her eyes as she went down the hall, annoyed at this minor problem. That bomb was much more trouble than it was worth. However it would do no good to be down in the flawed holding pens and explode. That would just be terribly inconvenient.

Besides, this was more of a double check of the double check. She was rather sure that the bomb wasn't going to explode but she really did not want to take that chance. And she wasn't all that sure the double check was all there.

Her hand convulsed violently, grasping at the air with desperate motions. She frowned at the limb. Now, really! Calm down! I have all this under control. No need to panic. To her surprise, her hand actually ceased its frantic movements apart from the occasional twitch. Orfhlaith nodded to herself. Apparently, talking to the hand actually worked. Oh, the irony.

So she moved down to the rooms where this monstrosity would be held. She leaned against the door frame, her red eye taking in the room. A large dirty blob of metal sat in the middle of the dark, messy room. Oil slicks were artfully dispersed around the floor and there was a lone scientist, working within the mechanisms. Orfhlaith rolled her eye and slowly moved forward. Her boots clicked against the floor, the noise distracting the scientist who looked at her in fear. Of course, she was merely a shadow to these people. A plaything of the King's. She grinned viciously before leaning over and flipping a switch.

"W-what are you doing?!" The man spluttered, holding a wench in a defensive position. Orfhlaith's red eye looked him up and down before she rolled her orb.

"Really, I was merely making sure we exist in the next half hour. Flipping the wrong switch? And you call yourself a scientist? Standards round here really are slipping." The overseer mused, her smile becoming slowly more vicious. The man looked terrified. She looked at the wench that he held and smirked. Now, this fight wasn't active in this time stream but really, it was too much fun not to re-enact.

"Now what are you going to do with that? I hope you weren't meaning to attack me. For, I, my dear, can simply slip away." With that the young woman moved gracefully to the left, stepping in behind the scientist and pulling him into a backwards stretch by grabbing his hair firmly. He looked her right in the eye as her left hand graced his thin reedy neck.

"As you can see, this position isn't very good for you. In fact, it's an awful position for you." A thin sharp knife slipped into her left hand and she quickly swapped positions. Her left hand held the man's head tightly, muscles convulsing every now and then, earning slight whimpers from the scientist. In her right hand, the knife lightly caressed the man's artery.

"Now, there is a little lesson to this scene. Do you wish to hear it?" She cooed gently as he gulped hard. His Adam's Apple bobbed and she let out a little hiss as the knife pressed down hard against the throat. He slowly nodded and the redhead grinned. Suddenly, the hold, knife and young woman were no longer behind the scientist and he fell to the dirty floor with a thud. He looked up and found himself face to face with the crouched young woman, who smiled viciously.

"The lesson is, my dear, always flip the right switch, Artem Jater, or you will have to answer to me." And with that, the overseer stood up and strode out of the room. She could almost feel the fear from out in the hall and the vision of everyone horribly dying was also gone. A win-win situation all round. The overseer let loose a peal of laughter as she made her way to the flawed pens. It was now time for the main attraction. The big event was just about to start and she was going to have fun playing her part. Oh, so much fun.

"Roll up, roll up." Orfhlaith laughed again, eye flashing. "The show is about to start."

~~~

Orfhlaith made her way around the flawed pens without hanging around. She didn't exactly enjoy being down here as it reminded her of a fate she just missed. If the government hadn't noticed what she could do, she would have been here. No. She would be dead. Orfhlaith knew that for sure. She had seen it enough times, flashes of her own vocal chords being turned into ribbons by monsterous claws, spears flying through her body to hit the opposite wall while leaving a trail of gore behind. Never pleasant. Seeing the future is all well and good and she may be able to foresee attacks but the King was known to release another flawed into the arena to speed things up a bit.

She wouldn't stand a chance, with or without her abilities.

Not that that would be her punishment. No, that would be a waste. She wouldn't get such a privilege. The redhead stopped and shuddered gently as flashes of memories flew to the forefront of her mind. The overseer growled to herself and moved those memories to the back of her head. She didn't need those right now. She had more important things to worry about at the moment. The redhead moved into the shadows to the left of an empty cage as the nobleman, Luther, passed by. Just on time. Good, good. Orfhlaith stood for a second, musing on who must have occupied this cage. Not that it mattered. In death, no one cared about the flawed. Come to think of it, they weren't all too important in life either.

Orfhlaith left the shadows and carried on her way. She passed many a flawed that she knew were going to die. The girl worrying her lip would be decapitated. The young man practising with a staff would be impaled upon a sword. The overseer closed her eyes as she passed the King's champion, a horrible animalistic thing with a slobbering jaw and claws as long as knives. She knew he/she/it would win. She had seen it. She also felt a tendril of doubt seeping into her mind but quickly dismissed it.

It would do no good to worry when you already knew the outcome.

She noticed that the blue haired princess was still conversing deeply with her "champion". The redhead knew she had at least five minutes before she should interrupt. This seemed as good a time as any to reorder her current visions. She stood against an empty cell and mentally flicked through the threads.

Hmm. Boring, boring, death, birth, sex, sex, flawed being turned into mush, apocalypse, theft, the King...Orfhlaith bit her lip hard. The King did not look happy she had been gone for so long. She grabbed her left hand tightly as it convulsed, obviously mirroring her anxiety and fear.

Stop it now. We both know that he wouldn't be a problem for us. Come on now. We have first impressions to make and it simply wouldn't do if you are panicking like that. Orfhlaith grinned as her left hand lessened it's movements. It was still twitching but at least it wasn't as bad anymore. The five minutes were up and Orfhlaith had things to do. She slinked behind the princess silently and leaned against the cage behind her, red orb glinting with an indistinct mix of emotions.

"Oh my. What do we have here? A party? How delightful. Am I invited, per chance?" The overseer asked, her malicious grin widening at the look on the princess' face. Too much fun, really.

(Eris) "No, fuck off. It looks like your period came hella early and screwed up your dress" A voice from inside the cell called out. Orfhlaith grinned and without skipping a beat, she returned the favour. Gladly.

"Looks like your period attracted wolves and they ate your dress." Then, moving away from the cage she leaned on and moving a little closer, she carried on with an expression of mocking thoughtfulness. "That or you shop at "Sluts-R-Us". I don't really care, true be told."

Before the woman inside the cage could reply or the princess could open her mouth, a call caught their attention.

"Orly!"

"Oh, for the love of all that is holy..." She turned to the two in front of her. "Excuse me two minutes." She turned and was greeted by that obnoxious face in front of hers. She let out a cough as his aftershave overpowered her senses.

"What do you want." The redhead asked, voice flat and emotionless. Her red eye flared underneath her red fringe. She knew what he was going to say but really, common courtesy dictated that she let him speak. Unfortunately.

"The King sent me to find you! He thought you had gotten lost, Orly!" The guard reached out and grabbed her wrist. The left one. Her hand instantly reacted by trying to claw at the man's hand. The overseer mentally praised her limb. Good job, dear. Finally doing something I want you do to.

"I am not lost and I do not wish to return to that vile man's side. And what have I told you about calling me that?" She hissed, eye a hard red. The guard frowned and went to pull the young woman to the Royal box. The redhead sighed heavily. Of course, she couldn't just listen to her. No, of course not. It wasn't as if she knew exactly, to the last detail, what was coming or anything like that. Oh, of course not. Mister Big, Brawny and Dumb over here obviously knew best.

He obviously didn't know her very well.

She didn't take to being forced into things kindly. The overseer pulled a thin dagger to her right hand and with controlled familiarity and ease, thrust it deeply into the man's shoulder. The guard bucked at the pain and fell to the ground, releasing Orfhlaith's arm. The overseer brushed her arm down casually and looked back up at the two women in front of her. She was about to carry on her conversation with the delightfully entertaining metal user inside when the guard on the floor groaned in pain. Orfhlaith rolled her eyes.

"Now really. Do be quiet. You are fine! Not in one single future do you die, which is a little disappointing really. A bit like opening that huge present in the corner for Christmas and discovering it was a hideous jumper..." The overseer trailed off, hands on hips, looking down at her victim. Her left hand drummed gently against her hip as the man groaned in agony. The guard eased an eye open and looked up at the red haired woman. He then slowly grinned.

"Heh. Anyone e-ever tell you t-that you look incredibly h-hot when you're angry?" The redhead blinked for a second, for once honestly confused. Sure, she had seen him say that in a vision but she didn't actually know he would say it.

"I just stabbed you and you are still trying to flirt with me?! I do not understand you, Torn. But that doesn't matter. Just keep quiet; I'm trying to have a civil conversation here." With that she looked back up at the princess and the flawed, hand writhing and locking in the muscles, with a catty grin stretching her features. She brushed back some red locks that had spilled upon her shoulder and look at the people in front of her. Her single red eye flashed in the low light.

"So. You were saying?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Luther Gottfried von Krieger Character Portrait: Liandre Florenia Ignivicarian VI Character Portrait: Orfhlaith
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#, as written by Igari
Liandre

Liandre eyed the retreating figure of Luther, who had somehow taken Eiurin's insult rather well and casually played it off as he sauntered away. The princess watched him for only a few seconds more before leaning back up on her tiptoes to see inside the cell. The metal girl yawned, thick lashes falling over her eyes as she adjusted her position, lying on her back and putting her hands back behind her head. Liandre fidgeted. She had never been good at knowing quite how to approach the flawed, or even speak to her in a conversation for that matter. Eiurin had the unfortunate habit of making anyone nervous and for the petite girl, who barely socialized as it was, this made this much more difficult.

Her fingers shook from trying to support her weight as she gripped the frame of the viewing window. Eyebrows furrowed in determination, Liandre worked up her nerve to address her champion. "H-How are you feeling after the first match?" She inquired, trying a bit of an ice-breaker into the conversation. Eiruin liftedwhere up one of her hands, the tips of her fingers morphing into bits of sleek metal that she lifted to her lips. The woman flicked out her tongue, letting it slide up the steel with nonchalance.

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?" The princess had to guess that this meant something along the lines of "well" and she nodded, adjusting her weight from one foot to the other.

"That's... that's good to hear!" She tried for a smile but the rather nasty look Eiurin shot her from underneath black lashes was enough to make Liandre falter. "U-Um... I wanted to speak things over with you--before the next round of matches." The blue-haired girl looked over her shoulder to make sure there were no guards in the vicinity. After verifying there was indeed no one, she pushed closer to the door and lowered her tones to whispers. "At this point... I-I believe only the strongest of the flawed will be left. From what I've researched, after we pass this round, we will move into an elimination round where all but two of the victors will be left alive." This was enough to make Eiurin actually turn her head towards the princess, though there was an odd smirk on her lips. Was the woman... amused...?

"Ah," Eiurin began with what seemed to be care. "So they want us to fight each other then. Pick each other off like lint off their clothes or some shit." Liandre flinched at the language but nodded all the same.

"R-Right. That's the moment I want to initiate my plan. It's the only time all of the remaining victors will be in the arena in any interval and the only... only chance we'll have to rescue everyone. And I was--" She was cut off by a rather firm wave of the hand by Eiurin, who had tensed up considerably. Liandre teetered on her heels, losing her balance faintly and nearly lost her grip on the window. She tried looking over her shoulders once more to see what had Eiurin so on edge. She needn't have made an effort to try and spot what was causing the woman discomfort for the presence identified themselves with a lilting voice.

"Oh my. What do we have here? A party? How delightful. Am I invited, per chance?" A rather unsettling grin came from the woman in red who had made herself known, shivers going down Liandre's spine. Eiurin clearly heard what was going on outside the door and spoke up in an irritated tone of voice, the usual harshness coming on a bit heavier.

"No, fuck off. It looks like your period came hella early and screwed up your dress." The princess immediately went to go object, there was no need for this fighting! It made her rather nervous anyway, and she was already anxious with this woman here. She was not sure who this woman was exactly, save that she lingered around the king. It did not seem like a fair assumption to think this was some high-class consort or brothel lady of sorts but why else would one linger around such a cruel man? He had all the advisers, informants, and other such members of the royal court right at his fingertips. But he never seemed to tire of collecting whores, so perhaps this woman was one of them. The wariness surely showed on her face for the red-haired woman's grin widened.

"Looks like your period attracted wolves and they ate your dress.That or you shop at "Sluts-R-Us". I don't really care, true be told." The vixen gave a fiery response indeed to Eiurin's quip. Liandre decided to fall silent, for it did not seem her voice was really of any significant merit in the current conversation. She could only hope her champion knew what she was doing.

===============================================================================

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Eiurin

The metal woman in question was anything but amused as a frown overtook her features. The voice outside the door was deeper than the whelp-princess' and infinitely more annoying. She could just about see the woman from out of the corner of the window but had already turned her gaze away, looking back up at the ceiling. Eiurin didn't enjoy attention-whores or busy-bodies. She wasn't going to even attempt a response to this stupidly irritating woman who barged in on others. There was what sounded to be a crash outside as someone seemed to clamber into the hall outside. Really, what the fuck was it with all these damn intruders? A furrow of her brow indicated her quickly deteriorating mood.

"Oh, for the love of all that is holy... Excuse me two minutes." Came the voice of the red woman. Well, good fucking riddance. The princess was enough to deal with, she did not enjoy all these retarded visitors. Eiurin ignored the sounds that were coming from the hallway, instead focusing on rather artful ways to kill all the people who had come upon her today. Okay, besides blue-hair. She kind of needed that royal prissy-pants to get back to her home. After witnessing the ways of things in this city, she'd take her world any day of the week. There were a few more shuffling noise and what sounded to be like gasping pants (HA--anything sounded like sex when you couldn't see what the hell was going on) before the annoying voice spoke up again, sounding ruffled but playful.

"So. You were saying?" Eiurin bothered to look over towards the window, seeing the little princess flit her eyes nervously between the cell and the woman. The metal flawed shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't going to save miss socially-awkward twice in such a short span of time. Liandre seemed to come to grips with this and forced her small voice out.

"W-Well, um... My champion's just had a long day--I.. um, hope you'll understand?" The princess was using those appeasing tones of voice. Ugh, grated on her ears, that did. "I-In fact, it would be best if I returned to the proceedings... I was only wishing her good luck anyway. S-See you soon, my metal champion." Liandre was careful not to say Eiurin's name. Personally, the flawed did not see what the big deal was but apparently, names could be used by the steambot or some shit to track a person down. She didn't like taking orders from the princess but it'd be best to listen to the royal's words, at least while she was in this strange world of Isallia. It was with this line of thinking that Eiurin breathed out heavily and dismissed the girl in bored tones.

"Yeah yeah, what the fuck ever. Get lost," She said with a wave of her hand. That other woman better have also taken the hint. Eiurin did not want anymore visitors.

The setting changes from Resdreillhm Palace to Isallia

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gargarin Sklave der Lüge Character Portrait: Orfhlaith
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(OOC: Co-written by Igari, HansetteHeart and I)

Orfhlaith waited until the princess had taken off like a whippet and moved forward, her one good eye observing the woman in front of her. The metal flaw lay down in a slumped position, her eyes trying to bore holes into Orfhlaith’s head. It wouldn’t work. Many had tried, all that failed, a few walked away with a few new war wounds.

A couple didn’t even walk away.

“Didn’t you get the fucking hint, whore doll? Go run along back to beardy face.” The woman in the cell threw at the overseer who merely chuckled in response. Oh, if only she knew what the redhead knew. Even she, she of the otherplace would tremble in fear, if she saw the nightmarish ways she could die.

Really, Orfhlaith didn’t think people could be used as toothpicks. But, you learn something new every day, she supposed.

“My, my, aren’t we fiery for someone walking to her death?” The overseer gave the young woman in front of her an appraising gaze before sighing.

“There isn’t really a way round this, is there?” Orfhlaith said, almost to herself as she quickly cycled through her visions. No. This was the only way for this to work. Joy, oh joy.

“Now, listen here, dear Eiurin,” The redhead drawled, pulling on the sound of the flawed’s name. So, Liandre hadn’t used the name but the overseer had her ways of figuring things out of course. Not that anyone below the King’s Council ever believe it. Oh well. Their loss.

“So, far I have seen you die a good many ways in the last, oh, hour. Now, if you want this little plan of the princess’ to work and you to stay...relatively intact, you may want to listen to my advice.” The overseer hissed, her dead eye moving quickly. The King, the King was coming. Soon. She didn't have much time at all. And then she had a stabbed guard to worry about.

Or not.

He wasn’t anywhere close to dying so he wasn’t too important right now.
“Now, in the Battle Royale...” Orfhlaith started to say, eye conveying the seriousness of this situation. She had watched this metal woman be chewed up, her hope of escape rested on her shoulders.

And the redhead was not going to go through another failed escape attempt.

Not ever again.

A loud bang alerted the two that someone had entered the flawed cells. Someone who didn’t sound to happy.

“ORFHLAITH!” The redhead winced and turned back to the flawed in the cell.

“Go right, got it? Right.” She spoke quickly, quietly, just loud enough to be understood and no more. Then she quickly turned, plucked the knife out of Torn’s shoulder and concealed again. The guard let out a low moan.

“Oh, for goodness sake, pull yourself together! I’ve had papercuts that were worse than that!”

“M-must have been some b-big ass paper.” The guard groaned as Orfhlaith waited for the inevitable to occur.




King Resdreillhm was an impatient man who heartily disliked being kept waiting. The princess had stumbled back into the booth earlier, though he had gone through the cordial act of greeting her, he was at odds with her arrival. He was more than aware of Liandre's dislike of such events and was naturally suspicious as to her sudden desire to see the ongoings. This feeling only intensified when the royal girl had told the advisers, at the last minute, that she wished to submit in her own champion. Really now, sending a girl to her death--surely the princess, who adored peace and thought little of those that foresook the life that was given them--would not want to trult participate. The king kept all these thoughts to himself, however. He did not not want to alarm any of his royal court with his doubts. Perhaps Liandre had decided to give the games a chance--only time would be able to tell.

Now if only his little Orfhlaith would show her pretty, doll face...

As if on cue, there was a loud knock and a stumbling noise as the door was burst open by a guard who looked a bit ragged. The guard trembled as he stood back. letting the firey-headed woman pass by and into the stand. The king smirked a bit. His pets always returned to him, this flawed was no different. He was the only one who could fully bask in her brilliance, in her all-seeing eye, and the only one able to perceive into her being. He gestured for her to take her seat next to him and spoke to her in his smooth voice.

"Pleased to see that you found your way back, my pet. Though you took quite a... long time." The pause he took was careful and precise, to let her know that she was pushing her boundaries. Orfhlaith was his and his alone, and she knew better than to wander about the place as if she had some free will of her own. The girl wouldn't be able to think, live, exist--if it were not for him. He regarded her calmly, though, a calm that was disquieting and uncomfortable to receive. "Though nevermind, dear, I am sure you will not let this slip up happen again..." He trailed off as an adviser came closer upon him, leaning in near his ear.

"S-Sorry to disturb you, my Lord, but there has been a slight... miscalculation." The king raised his eyebrow.

"Mis... calculation?" He sounded out the word oh so slowly, looking between Orfhlaith and the adviser as he did so to let her know that if this turned around to be something she could've prevented, she would most certainly be punished for it. "Speak," He commanded in a firm voice.

"The flawed seem to be excelling much better than we could've thought this year... The crowd wants to see more action, your highness, more--" The king held up his hand to cut the adviser off, who stuttered to a halt as if slapped. He observed Orfhlaith as he spoke clearly.

"I will be taking a walk. And you," He said to the red-haired seer. "Will be accompanying me. None of you may follow--stay here and cater to the whims of the princess. And if that bothersome Luther shows his face here, let him pass. Better him entertained than causing more trouble." With those dismissive words, he grabbed his flawed's arm in a rather harsh manner, forcing her back to her feet and tugging her after him. There was no resistence from her, she knew her place and was being docile, just as he had trained her. The king knew precisely where it was he had to go--who had had to see to make sure that the games would be a success this year as they had always been. He pulled her with him into the elevator, taking out his special key and sliding it into the slot. The system registered the object and immediately the mechanisms whirred to life, descending to the floors below.

The elevator ride was not that long at all and it was only a few minutes more before the two arrived in the dungeon laboratory--a place he and only very few others had access to. He did not bother knocking as he simply pushed the doors open, barging into the workspace of Gargarin, the mishapen scientist under his employ. He did not mask his distaste for the other mans' appearance and shoved Orfhlaith to the side of him as he spoke gruffly.

"Whatever are you doing down here, Gargarin?" His voice was soft, deadly--lethal. "I was expecting a show, yet you give me nothing but freaks who the prisoners are taking out easily. And here we are, approaching the elimination match, and there is no beast to amaze my people and wipe out some of those pesky insects? Do you wish to play a... game with me?" His question were measured, demanding, and he did not waste any time in getting to the point. The king disliked being in Gargarin's presence and preferred to keep things as brief as he could. He regarded the man only a bit longer before turning his eyes upon the rest of the lab, lip curling in disgust. Still ever the freak show, still surrounded by odd ends and things. He tapped his foot, signalling to the scientist that he did not have any time to be wasted.




The man went in. Thunk. Step. Thunk. Step. Thunk. Step.

Gargarin smiled to himself. The creatures inside weren't for the faint hearted. There were no monsters of worth inside. Only failed experiments called it their home. There were only two possibilities. The adviser would scream, or more likely, would be too shocked to do anything.

The man came out. ThuSteThuSteThunk! He grabbed Gargarin by the collar who didn't say anything. Gargarin was amazed. Normal people would have been in shock but this man was spurred up by it. This changed everything. Now, NOW, he really wanted to turn the adviser into a monster.

"What the fuck was that?!" Gargarin removed the his hands of the collar and checked on the progress of the iron man on the bed. The adviser said nothing. Gargarin checked the pulse of the man. He was alive. He turned to the adviser.

"Failed Experiments."

"Failed experiments? Why are you showing me failed experiments? I want the best. The king going to be furious."

"Too bad. I showed you the room because you must understand that not every monster is perfect. You can't just hand me a bunch of trash and expect me to create gold out of it. Gold for gold. Crap for crap." The adviser looked at Gargarin with eyes that could only mean one thing. "You are a monster," the man said to Gargarin.

"I'm at peace with my inner demon. Are you?" Gargarin asked calmly. He walked across the room to his bookshelf and started searching for his favorite book, The Salamander of Westminister. "What do you mean, I gave you crap?" asked the adviser. "I have been giving you the same set of criminals for years now."

"Before," Gargarin began, "You gave people who didn't want to continue living as weakling. When I asked them if they wanted to become stronger and faster, almost all said yes. And so, because of their willingness, I could turn them into high quality monsters. But this year, you've just given me scared peasants."

"You never said you wanted willing people?!" shouted the adviser.

"You never listened to me. In any case, you should go now. I have sent what monsters I could create to your holding cell." The adviser stood for a moment and then realizing how futile it was to continue talking with Gargarin, he turned and walked away. Thunk. Step. Thunk. Step. Slam!

"Stupid idiot," Gargarin muttered out loud as the adviser slammed the door shut. Then he let out a sigh of relief. Usually the adviser was violent but today he only almost broke Gargarin's neck. Removing any thought of the adviser from his mond, he turned his attention to the book. The Salamander of Westminister entailed of a fake society where people chose who ruled over them. However, there was one man, the Salamander, who made they always voted for the same person, the one he wanted. He liked it because it was like his world but more useless. There weren't even any Flawed to kill.

Someone pushed the doors open, barging into the his workspace. He turned around to find the mighty king himself and some woman. why did always women here and tarnish the great lab. For a moment, he wondered how the king would look like on the operation table now occupied by an iron man. He should give the iron man a name. Calling him 'the iron man' would get tedious very fast. How about Steel?

"Whatever are you doing down here, Gargarin?" His voice was soft, deadly--lethal. "I was expecting a show, yet you give me nothing but freaks who the prisoners are taking out easily. And here we are, approaching the elimination match, and there is no beast to amaze my people and wipe out some of those pesky insects? Do you wish to play a... game with me?"

Gargarin wished to smile at the kind but he knew the king would take it the wrong way. He glanced at his operation table and back at the king, "Sir, as much as I would like to get you the very best monsters, I cannot. I wasn't sent a single person who was willing to be turned into a monster. But do not worry. I have send a few monsters up which hopefully would kill a few of those pesky Flawed."

The king was apt not to fully believe the words that this madman spoke to him. However, he was going to have to take Gargarin's word for it. The man eyed the other carefully as he reached out to place his fingers on his flawed's shoulder, trilling them slowly. "I believe I can... rectify the volunteer situation." One of the royal assistants, the very same one who had been belligerent to Gargarin, was the target of the king's gaze. The man looked ill at ease as he nervously tried to back towards the door. However, the king grabbed him swiftly by his arm and pushed him towards the scientist. "Use him as well, and make it something interesting." He said curtly.

"And do something about this horrid mess." The king said before abruptly turning, taking his seer with him. He didn't ever like being near Gargarin but the threat in his words should've been enough to make sure that he was given something truly spectacular. Just in case, he was going to make sure he sent down a few more unwilling participants to the scientist, just to make sure there was no shortage of potential monsters. Perhaps it might've seemed odd that he hadn't asked after what was in store. But he had always been a man who enjoyed the suspense, even when he was agitated.

The setting changes from Isallia to Resdreillhm Palace

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Taran Mortair Character Portrait: Orfhlaith Character Portrait: Quinn Sari Character Portrait: Rakka Sukai
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#, as written by Igari
Eiurin

It had been terribly unpleasant for the woman, for that stupid, stupid red pixie slut fairy refused to leave the vicinity of her cell. Being snappy didn't seem to be the proper approach with this red-haired vixen, so instead, she had opted for ignoring the consort. Oh sure, little miss pain-in-my-ass had forced her presence anyway for a time, bantering on and on about choosing right and altering paths to make sure stuff panned out right. Eiurin had never been one for the cryptic bullshit and pretty much had tuned out the entirety of the statements in favor of a mental image of the girl dying slowly whilst being impaled in a bed of spikes. That was a nice image, yes, she could work with that. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, the metal flawed refused to comment and eventually, the other had finally left. Gods above, that was annoying. It didn't seem as if she could catch a break, however, as it was merely moments after, right when she had been about to curl up on her bed that there was a loud knock at the door. Oh, what the bloody fuck...

"Get on your feet, freak. We're moving you to the waiting quarters." Ah, it was one of those retarded guards who thought he could order her around. How utterly amusing. She'd comply, she was good at playing. And wasn't that all she had been doing for the small princess anyway? She'd been putting up with all this abuse and topsy turvy society just for the sake of the desires of a whelpling who had no concept of the world outside of her own. But Eiurin did. She knew the world out there. It wasn't a sanctuary, the princess was wrong. But it was too late to change things and she had agreed to this doomed plan anyway. A plan she had promised to force success upon. She was a fool.

She clenched her fist, stepping up from her bed and adjusting her features. She would not show this uncertainty to anyone else--she had a reputation to uphold after all. So she tilted her chin up, walking over to the door just as the guard opened it. There were two steambots in the hallway, her escorts, she could presume. Eiurin put her hands behind her head, for all intents and purposes, she had never had those negative thoughts to begin with. She lowered her lashes slightly as she huffed out.

"Well, I don't have all day--seriously, you're leading me to my lovely darling death." She let out a scoff at her words, golden orbs moving between the steambots seamlessly. There was no response, the bots just turning as she wandered out, hovering on either side of her. Most likely to prevent her from making an escape, if any--how endearing, as if she'd really try to run anyway. They led her to a different elevator than the one she had taken up to the arena, shoving her in somewhat roughly. Eiurin glared at the machines with as much malice as she could put into her glare, a feat she had gotten quite good at. The bots hesitated for a few seconds before inserting an odd-shaped jagged key into the pad on the wall. The elevator whirred to life and she sighed as it brought her up several flights, making a creaking noise the whole way up. These devices really needed to be quieter. It was grating on her faint headache.

The platform came to a halt, the woman stepping off of it with a frown. There were other flawed here, the ones she had spied on that had also fought in the previous matches. She didn't want to bother moving near them though, choosing to recline on the floor nearest to the exit. Her antisocial mentality wasn't shared, apparently, by all of the occupants of the area for one spoke up, his voice smooth and warm. An odd combo and one she instantly disliked for it was so out of place. Hmph.

“Greetings, I am called Taran. I look forward to getting to know each of you. If I may ask, what are your names?” There was a silence that settled about--oh hey, that priestess girl had made it. The girl was pale as death and leaning against a far corner. Eiurin took the opportunity to gaze around the room at the others to get a better look at them, at least--she wasn't sure how long she'd be stuck with these idjits but if the plan was successful, it was be a pretty, shitty long time. The one that had spoken up had a calm visage about him, ugh, absolutely infuriating. She took her eyes off him immediately, turning her gaze to the winged boy who looked just as irritated as she. It was he that spoke some sense, his voice chilled and distant.

"Why get to know us? We're all going to die anyway. What's the point?" Her thoughts exactly. Minus the dying. Eiurin didn't entertain that thought with a great amount of pleasure. She yawned, taking the tips of one of her metal wings and running her fingers along it carefully.

"What an absolutely splendid point of view." She said with sarcasm layering her voice in nearly suffocating amounts. "Since we are so obviously going to die, we might as well decide who is going to double-team up together to kill the others. And in case you were unclear on it, I am totally snagging dibs on the winged asshole. He looks like tons of bloody fun." She was careful to drown out the question of names with her own natural brand of snarkiness. Though personally she didn't understand it, Liandre had been very firm about Eiurin keeping her name a secret. She could abide by that desire, at least. Introductions would do little anyway--if that stupid slut's words had been any indication, the elimination match would be coming sooner than they had expected. And she would have to be ready.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Liandre Florenia Ignivicarian VI Character Portrait: Orfhlaith
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Orfhlaith was allowing herself to be dragged to the Royal watching booth again. She mentally sighed. She was rather hoping that telling Eiurin to go right would fix the visions. But apparently, the fates still hadn't gotten over the fact that she could mess up their plans.

Damn PMSing fates.

But her skin crawled as the King had a tight grip on her wrist. Her left hand grabbed at the material of her skirt in frantic gestures. She wanted to tell it to stop but that would just grab the king's attention. So instead she tried to pull her hand out of his grasp.

"I can walk myself, you know, sir. I do know where the booth is." The redhead grumbled, her tone as monotone as ever, her red eye betraying her distaste. Despite the King's attempts of getting rid of her attitude, some things wouldn't change no matter how much drugs you used. The seer may have understood the control the King had over her but that didn't mean she had to just accept it all the time. She hoped.

The king, of course, was not amused in the slightest by her antics and replaced his casual stare with a more firm look. Yet his little flawed was not nearly so intimidated, showing her displeasure quite clearly. "Walk yourself...?" He said smoothly, in a voice coated with veiled threats and unstated cruelty. "If you can make all the steps all on your own.... dove." He let her out of his grasp, let her try to walk on her own. He knew better than anyone else that her system could not fight off the drugs forever. But he'd give her that "freedom" that she desired. She and he both knew it would not last for long.

The two walked in silence, as if both waiting for the moment that she would falter. She was a strong one, he would give her that, but stupid, despite her ability to see all the paths on the time stream. Yet still so delicious...

Orfhlaith winced as her red boots caught on the stairs again. Depth perception was not her strong point but she would not let this monster drag her around like some doll, like one of his whores. She set her face and carried on walking, head held high and unfaltering. Until she tripped over the King's out stretched foot.

The overseer knew it was coming but couldn't stop in time. Even if she had managed to avoid him, she had seen the possible outcomes. All of which were...slightly more unpleasant. The King never did like it when she saw his actions. She fell down, hitting her face on the higher steps. A tiny pained gasp fell from her lips as her forehead bled down her face, blinding her with red. She looked back up at the King, unable to mask all of her fear as she wiped the coppery substance away.

The man was unpredictable at best and he could have a few reactions to this. Not many were all that great from her point of view. And being locked up again was something she strived to avoid. Especially as the advisor did like to come and mock her.

So was so precious, laying upon the floor like that like some wounded puppet. He did enjoy her best when she was sniveling and trembling in fear. He extended out a gloved hand for her to take, a maclious smile on his face. "Care for some help, dear?" He asked. He did not have to wait for a response from her, grabbing her hand and pulling her up on to her feet. He pulled her towards the elevator in a swift stride, not wishing to waste any more idle time merely wandering the hallways. He had death matches to oversee, today was not a day to be tottering around with no sense of purpose.

He pushed her into elevator, though she did not bang against any of the walls, he made sure the force of his push was just enough to tell her not to get any smart ideas. He inserted his master key into the slot, taking them back up to the top floor where they had come from. Grabbing her once more, he led her to the booth--guards moving to either side of the hallway to make room for him. One of the guards posted outside the booth door hurried to open it in time, the king striding into the area without so much as a look at the one who had accomodated him. Servants were nothing, wastes of space only meant to do menial labor at best.

He sat down in his chair, catching the sight of Liandre, who tensed up the moment she saw him. That flutter of a half-smile on her lips told him her discomfort and the warm smile he gave her only worked to increase it. Foolish princess. He smirked to himself as he turned from her, pointing to the seat next to him.

"Be seated. Quivering in the corner doesn't suit you," He commanded to his little flawed.

Orfhlaith bit her lips as she sat down, blood still leaking from her head. She didn't worry about the Royals raising any eyebrows or asking questions. She had been seen around the palace with worse before. The redhead sat uncomfortably, eye never settling. She spotted the princess staring at the King and shifted anxiously. This had better work or else... The "or else" didn't bear thinking about, the consequences were dire.

She swiped at her cut again, frowning at the blood that now coated her hands. The monster beside her was unlikely to let her go clean it off after her little side journey. She let out a shaky breath as she reshuffled her visions again. The rest of the flawed were in the mass pen. Good, good. It was going to plan so far. The overseer nodded to herself, relief showing clearly. The King must have caught her expression as he leaned closer, giving her a look that made her inwardly flinch. This was important, this was the part were her visions played a big part. She had to know for sure (even though she had said to him it was impossible to know exactly...) what was going to happen. This was the part of the Battle Royale in which her neck was most on the line. Orfhlaith met the King's gaze with a stubborn look in her eye. She would not show her fear to this disgusting individual. Because that would mean he was closer to winning.

She was always so stubborn, oh he liked that, he liked that in her... Heh. He gave her a crooked smile, both of them knew precisely what he was thinking and he was making it no secret to her at all. Raising one of his hands, he brought his focus back upon the arena.

"Raise the alarms--the people have been kept waiting long enough." One of the assistants nearby gave a shaky nod and ran off to the side, pressing a switch on the far panel. A loud sound rang from all around the area, seeming to come from all directions simultaneously. The noise was loud, blaring, and a sound everyone knew well. The royals in the crowd cheered, rising up from their seats in eager anticipation. The alarm had gone off--the matches were about to begin...!

Four large pillars rose from the ground, each at one end of the enormous colloseum that housed The Battle Royale. They raised several hundred feet, radiating off steam and energy to high degrees. Each pillar began to shake and released a beam that connected to the other in a crisscross pattern high in the sky. When all the lines had joined with one another, a dome began to appear out of thin air, wrapping around the entirety of the arena. When these energy fields reached the ground, the alarms ceased their blaring. The barrier had been set.

This was always the best part of the tournament, in his opinion. The barrier was made so that none of the flawed could escape the arena, if they dared. The energy field would secure them inside and the only way to disable it was to strike all four pillars at a hidden spot all at the same time. He had assigned this task to four of his advisors, all of whom would be killed anyway after this whole thing was over. Couldn't let that little secret get out, now could he?

He stood up from his seat, grabbing a microphone from a nearby servant and speaking in his low voice. "Citizens of Isallia, we now move into the Elimination Matches! Do not forget, there can only be one winner..." He trailed off, oh, the viciousness. He was going to be looking forward to it.

Orfhlaith bit her lip hard. This better work or she would not be a happy little flawed for the next couple of months. She spotted the King's flawed and hoped upon hope that it survived long enough. If not...the redhead dashed that thought away. That flawed had better last long enough, for both of their sakes.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Orfhlaith
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#, as written by Igari
(***This is being posted for Loki as she is currently attending a private summer school where she has no interwebs access***)

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Although Orfhlaith was never truly surprised, a few things could catch her off guard. Like the assumed impossibility of the pillars ever dying away to nothing crumbling away and leading the previously barely secure future of a flawed escape. Sure, she had had visions beforehand but she had dismissed them as the threads of time seemed to choke this idea to death. Really, what was one tiny vision among thousands of others proclaiming that nothing like this was ever going to happen. Orfhalith cursed inwardly, the back of her hand still pressed against blood flowing from her temple. She should have known, should have thought ahead although she knew that even if she had told the King, he would have dismissed it also. It was just a barely there thread after all, a partial future. Her red eye was drawn to the King automatically, awaiting his response.

This could go one of a few ways with the King, none of the them particularly pleasant. She hadn't forseen this properly, couldn't have told the King definately. There was no way to foresee this properly, it was a freak thing, completely out of the blue.
"The dam has broken, surely, now we shall all drown." She whispered as the waves of violence overflowed the stands. "The red waves shall crash into us like hammers and anvils."

Now, the story must carry on and she had a part to play. However, that part involved getting to the laboratories and avoiding the King and his Guards. As well as death. It was rather vital that she avoided death. It would make everything a lot more difficult. Orfhlaith's left hand twisted violently to the left, curling up into a ball as the screams grew louder. The overseer turned towards the King. She may have to disobey his orders to go to the laboratories but she felt it was necessary to find what he wanted her to do. After all, she would need his permission for the guards to let her leave the Royal Stand. Guards always did become a little overprotective when there was mass hysteria. Didn't they know this was somewhat tame compared to a few of the Armageddon visions Orfhlaith had recieved over the years?

And they called themselves hardened warriors.