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The Multiverse

Gypsy Camp

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a part of The Multiverse, by Remæus.

The largest gypsy clan this side of Terra, the [url=http://www.roleplaygateway.com/roleplay/the-multiverse/groups/the-mistwood-gypsy-clan ]Mistwood gypsy[/url] camp is a bustling place of activity and cheer. Though beneath the backdrop of color and prosperity lays something far more sinister. The Cursed Wood. Both superstitious and wary of strangers, these gypsy outcasts have long learned to take care of themselves.

lostamongtrees holds sovereignty over Gypsy Camp, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

759 readers have been here.

Setting

The largest gypsy clan this side of Terra, the Mistwood gypsy camp is a bustling place of activity and cheer. Though beneath the backdrop of color and prosperity lays something far more sinister. The Cursed Wood. Both superstitious and wary of strangers, these gypsy outcasts have long learned to take care of themselves.

However, outsiders often believe that this clan's deviations from their ancestral ways brought about their blight. Dubbed 'Cursed' by their compatriots, few other gypsy clans will mingle with the gypsies of Mistwood.

The Mistwood Gypsy Clan serves as a haven for other individuals of like mind. Outcasts of the gypsy people who have carved out a name for themselves despite their unorthodox ways.
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Gypsy Camp

The largest gypsy clan this side of Terra, the [url=http://www.roleplaygateway.com/roleplay/the-multiverse/groups/the-mistwood-gypsy-clan ]Mistwood gypsy[/url] camp is a bustling place of activity and cheer. Though beneath the backdrop of color and prosperity lays something far more sinister. The Cursed Wood. Both superstitious and wary of strangers, these gypsy outcasts have long learned to take care of themselves.

Minimap

Gypsy Camp is a part of Cursed Wood.

9 Characters Here

Ciara Corrigan [20] Free spirited and rebellious, Ciara lives by her own rules.
Crystalline Sprite [1] This great rarity flickers and glimmers in the sunlight.
Kyre Syme [1] Winged, flying like a bat out of hell, without a care in the world
Manami M. [1]
PO-WD [0] A middle sized robot designed to mount and carry offense. He can take reasonable punishment, and can dish out rather large amounts of damage in return with ranged or close combat. Very chivalrous.
Kenji Tatsuya Shen-Ryu [0] "This is the life we chose."

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1 NPCs Here


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Character Portrait: Scar
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"There are lot of definitions that could be applied. But I've been blunt with you thus far - a shady man with his face hidden, walking about in a trench coat and fedora. I seek to kill a Vampress, madam."

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
“You will find a lot of those around these parts. But I couldn't tell you one from another. Any questions you have will need to be specific.”

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Character Portrait: Scar
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"Very well." He joined eyes. "Where have you gotten such a scar?"

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
"I don't see how that is any of your business, or how it will aid you in your pursuits."

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Character Portrait: Scar
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"It may lend me to know your experience, to allow me to ask better questions. Help me help others."

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
“It's personal.”

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Character Portrait: Scar
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He stared at her for a moment, then glanced down. "I see." Taking his fedora off, he gave her a bow-like nod, revealing his own left eye and the scar it bore. This one was better fixed up, albeit a tad older looking. Flopping the hat back on, he placed both hands into his coat pockets. "Sometimes, madam, it's better to dismiss one's self to attain something better than it. I learned this the hard way. If you would like, I can give you some time to think about it.

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
“I think you misunderstand. I have no interest in discussing my personal life with a stranger, that has no relevance to your vampire problem at hand. You've overstepped yourself in your inquiries. I have no love of the vampires that dwell beyond our borders, and if I can aid you in that regard, I would be happy to oblige.”

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Character Portrait: Scar
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He blinked a few times.
"Ah. So it wasn't connected to the new family...? Well, bloody me, I do apologize then! That was awful rude of me." Worth the try, Scar couldn't help but feel that this will come back as karma to bite him. No puns intended. He shook his head apologetically and smiled. "I may have been on the edge for the past while there." He thought back to Ciara- she was the one that knew something with her sudden aversion. "Alright, well, I might as well ask since I'm here - my third question would be if you knew any techniques more effective than stakes and garlic against said Vampire problem."

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
“I'm still not even sure what you are referring to by new family. The denizens of the forest have always been there. Before my people arrived, and likely will continue to be there long after my people are gone. As for killing them... that is I believe your line of work, not my own. If you want some charms and concoctions to ward your home, I can arrange for our Shuvani to speak to you, but we don't hunt vampires.

It was clear that Ileana wasn't really differentiating different groups of vampires, as her people seemed to view the wood as a single entity.

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
“I'm still not even sure what you are referring to by new family. The denizens of the forest have always been there. They were there before my people arrived, and likely will continue to be there long after my people are gone. As for killing them... that is I believe your line of work, not my own. If you want some charms and concoctions to ward your home, I can arrange for our Shuvani to speak to you, but we don't hunt vampires.”

It was clear that Ileana wasn't really differentiating the various groups of vampires, as her people seemed to view the cursed wood as a single entity.

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Character Portrait: Scar
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"Oh, you haven't heard? Apparently an entire new... pack shall I say of Vampires barged into the woods. Not sure what happened to your old Werewolf folks, but there it is. I personally am not aware of the politics involved when it comes to Werewolves and Vampires, but I haven't seen any merrymaking last time I've scouted there." He wasn't strictly observing for a reaction at this point. "I suppose that's both a good and bad thing, in a way. If the Werewolves get kicked out or killed, then that's one thing less to worry about. Then again, whoever the new folks are, I'm not sure they'd have much quarrel of hunting on these grounds. They don't have that same pact, after all."

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
Ileana pursed her lips as she contemplated the situation. “There's a castle towards the southern stretches of the wood, perhaps you'll find more answers there. But be warned, that wood is cursed, and so are all who choose to tread there.”

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Character Portrait: Scar
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His smile widened. "I'll ask next time. Thank you, miss..."

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Character Portrait: Torrential
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;/ooc You first or I?

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Character Portrait: Torrential
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;/ooc Test?

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
Dawn was just beginning to break over the horizon, and the gypsy camp was beginning to rouse from its slumber. In the main camp the early risers were already out, preparing for the days work, though the chill bite of the air had the majority still inside, as was the case with Ileana. Not that the cold particularly bothered her, but she found it helped to ease her clansmen if she at least pretended normalcy.

As it stood, her vardo was located well outside the protection of the main camp, segregated off and shunned as cursed, like herself. Various trinkets and wards hung about the wagon, but as with most superstition, the results were frequently ineffective or based off falsehoods.

Though, that's not to say that all gypsy 'magic' was ineffective, but the trinkets likely would do little to dissuade an intruder.

The vardo itself was very small, though ornately furnished with vibrant fabrics and paints. It appeared designed to house only one, maybe two individuals. Within it, Ileana was at work over a mortar grinding up the stems and leaves of the toxic wolfsbane she kept supplied. It was difficult to come by with the weather so cold, and her supply was rapidly waning she noted with concern. Unfortunately, the alternative was simply not an option.

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Character Portrait: Torrential
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Balancing survival with stealth was always one of those lost arts, in Torrential's opinion. Vampires just didn't know how to do it anymore; the quiet grace of movement and caution mixed with that rapid urgency to get away before dawn licked at your heels and gnawed at your skin. Usually with the young ones, it was one or the other; either they were slow and stupid, checking every facet of their surroundings before acting, or too panic-filled, running around with oh-god-the-world-is-ending mentality and making far too much noise. Torrential wished that those young ones could see his technique.

They'd see a master at work.

He didn't question the Vardo when he saw it; far enough away from the Gypsy camp to be deemed safe, but not so far away that he couldn't feed if he needed to. The fight with the werewolf had left him sore, but otherwise unhurt; his skin wasn't even broken. He was relentless in his pursuit of combat over the past days; the thought of not one, but two worthy adversaries escaping his grasp in the last month was... distracting him. He was itching for a good fight.

But not as much as he was itching for some shade.

With some of that cautious grace he had thought about earlier, Torrential approached the Vardo, long coat flapping silently in the chill air. Torrential had always appreciated the night. Appreciated it greatly. With quick steps, soundless save for a single lone creak on the steps to the door, he pressed an ear against the grainy wood, listening for movement. Satisfying himself after a cursory listen, he moved around the side of the wagon, running a hand quickly over the wood of one of the tight shutters.

After ensuring that there were no real lock systems in place, he opened them, satisfied to note that they opened soundlessly, and hopped into the Vardo, a dark shadow against a lightening outside world.

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
Outside the restless snort and stamp of a horse could be heard rousing Ileana from her seat to go look out the window. Opening the shutters, the horse was still tied securely to a post and had resumed grazing. Putting it from her mind she turned around, only to find herself face to face with a stranger. Her heart leaped into her throat as she stepped back, her back hitting the wall of the vardo behind her. It was an instinctive reaction of panic, but quickly overcome.

“Who are you? I'll scream,” she threatened. Though her vardo was outside the main camp, it was certainly well within earshot.

Despite the fear that was clearly evident by her rapid pulse, she had a boldness about her, only accentuated perhaps by the scar that adorned her left eye. Beneath the scar tissue that surrounded it, the eye itself was a blood-shot milky white hue.

Her earthen skin tone and thick locks of hair gave her an almost exotic look, but the scar dominated her features.

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Character Portrait: Torrential
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Torrential didn't even freeze as he pulled the shutters closed behind him, his gaze, though hidden behind the dark glasses, seemed to burn through the woman. He noted the scar, the dark skin, the thick hair, all of which was oddly pleasing to his senses. He realized how suddenly cliche this situation was; lone maiden in a relatively secluded area, when the handsome vampire comes into her window, and suddenly the two are rutting until it's discovered that he doesn't have a reflection.

He looked down her form before meeting her gaze again, deciding that he quite liked the sound of that. If she didn't scream, which she seemed intent on doing. An inhalation through his nostrils brought her scent to him, something that seemed like that dark stuff Varia had coated her dart with on the hunt - Wolfsbare, had she called it? He'd been preoccupied with other things about her at the time - and he noted that it was indeed, curious.

"I'm the repairman." Torrential said, offhandedly, letting his weapons casually reveal themselves to her as his long coat opened. "If you scream, I'll fix you. You have anything to eat in this godforsaken place?"

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Character Portrait: Torrential Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
(Post co-written by Tiko and NotAFlyingToy)

Ileana didn't move other than to point towards the small cupboard behind Torrential. The only thing he would find inside would be an assortment of herbs and vials of various alchemical concoctions, but she was subtly feeling around on the small stand at her side for her silver nail file. It wasn't much of a weapon, but if the man turned his back to check the cupboard, she was prepared to use it and make a run for the door.

He grinned at her as she pointed somewhere behind him, but he didn't really follow the direction so much as the movement. Through his predatory eyes, she was a meek and willing servant, pointing out her wares for her master to snack on. He realized that he was enjoying this scenario far too much for it to stop at food. He wasn't really that hungry, anyways.

"Actually, forget the food," he hissed out, taking a step towards her. His nostrils flared, breathing in more of that dark scent. Wolfsomething. Yet again, he pushed it to the back of his mind. "I'd love to see what you have around here. How about giving me the grand tour?"

His fangs, gleaming in the rapidly lightening day, stood out from parted lips as he said the words.

Ileana's breath caught in her throat at the gleam of fangs. Shaky fingers closed around the nail file, palming it as she pressed her back more firmly against the edge of the vardo. These new creatures that walked the night were different than the strigoi of the past. They weren't as easily identified, but those fangs marked him for what he was.

“But... the pact...” she offered meekly, her voice almost a whisper as her heart thudded in her chest.

For many years that pact had kept the gypsy clan and the denizens of the cursed wood from venturing across each others boarders, but the superstitious nature of the gypsies left them unwilling to truly understand the nature of what lay beyond. As a result, they had difficulty discerning one beast from another – or the capacity to understand that these new arrivals knew nothing of the old pacts, or of their predecessors.

Torrential paused at the mention of the pact, this little code word that the girl seemed to throw in front of her as if a shield. He snorted at the idea of some pact, some promise to stay away from fresh meat and bones that beasts like him so craved. How on earth would humans hope to hold off the tide of undead night-walkers?

"Pact?" he asked, with a quirk of a brow. He put his hands on his hips, half turning away from her. "I know of no pact. Even if I did, I would not uphold it. You were made for my fangs, human. Know this." His eye was caught by a particular carving across the room, and he turned to fully investigate it.

"What kind of carving is that?" He raised his hand to jab a finger, the menace in his voice still apparant. He wasn't worried by his full back turned to her; what could a mere mortal possibly hope to accomplish against his might?

It was the opening Ileana was waiting for. In a moment of boldness she choked down her fear and let her survival instincts drive her hand. A flash of silver glinted in the air as she drove the nail file down towards Torrential's now exposed back, so as to wound the creature and allow her to flee the premise.

Sharpened senses picked up on the rustle of cloth, the whizzing through the air as she speared something towards his back. He moved like he was the night, quick and efficient; his right hand flashed forward with blinding speed, catching the stab at it's highest point. Grinning at her to hide his gritted teeth, the nail file bit deep into his palm, going through the other side and-

Burning!?

Silver. Silver. Of course the fucking nail file that the seemingly random woman had just happened to be made of silver. What was next? Was she going to have a hairbrush that doubled as a flamethrower? Was she the goddess of the sun?

Grinning wider and hoping she didn't notice the sweat pouring down his neck, he unleashed a haymaker with his opposite hand, sending her crashing against the back wall. Far too quickly for someone who wasn't supposed to feel pain, he grabbed at the nail file, tearing it from his skin with a high-pitched squeak that he told himself was a manly grunt.

"That." He breathed out, "Was unexpected."

Fortunately for the vampire's manly pride, Ileana was still reeling from the blow he had struck her. She rested slumped in the corner between the stand and the vardo wall, thoroughly dazed, though astoundingly not entirely knocked senseless. Either she was hardier than she looked, or there was more to her than meets the eye.

Her eyes darted to the vardo door, but Torrential barred the way. She swallowed hard, but something stayed her. Perhaps it was the sight of him tearing her nail file free of his hand, or the assortment of weapons that he wore, or the knowledge that he could snap her in half quicker than she could bat an eye... but whatever the reason, instinct told her to stay down and stay quiet.

He liked the look of her crumpled on the floor, that was for sure. Tossing the file at her with a flippant motion, he paced slightly around the room, glaring at her darkly. "Well, well well. What to do with you."

"I came in your humble abode, looking for a tour, and you try and stick me with a nail file? That's not very polite." He grinned down at her, eyes and mouth a stark and striking contrast. "Could just kill you. And eat you, but that wouldn't be as fun. Or,"

He paused in his pacing, whirling to face her fully. "Or you could tell me why you smell like Wolfshard." He'd get the damn name right eventually.

Now, had Ileana been in a better state of mind, she may have made the connection to the wolfsbane that Torrential was asking her about. As it stood, she simply broached a question of her own. “What do you want with me?” It hadn't actually occurred to her that against all odds, this was simply a chance encounter.

He shrugged. "At first? A place to spend the day, and maybe a free meal. Now? I'm curious." He raised a knee, pressing his foot against one wall of the vardo, surrounding her with his size. "What does some random gypsy do with a substance like Wolfcane?" He was getting closer. Lane... Sane... Mane...

“Wolfsbane?” Ileana inquired hesitantly. Torrential's close proximity had her heart racing almost painfully in her chest, and she had the wide-eyed look of a frightened deer about her.

Her gaze briefly shifted past Torrential to the cupboard she had directed him to earlier.

He snapped his fingers and slapped his hand against his knee in a violent, sudden movement that caused Ileana to flinch. "That's it!" He roared, pointing at her, a finger inches away from her face. "Wolfsbane. That's what that shit was called. Been driving me crazy."

He moved away from her as he continued to speak. "Why do you have a supply of wolfsbane?" He sniffed. "Quite an amount of it, too."

“I... I studied with the Shuvani for many years.” It wasn't exactly an explanation, at least not one that Torrential would understand, but it seemed to hold some relevance to Ileana. “I keep many herbs...” she added with a nod of her head towards the cupboard. “In there,” she explained. The thought that he might be here for the wolfsbane had her heart skip a beat. Her supply was running low as it was, and it was so hard to come by this time of year.

"Interesting." He murmered, moving towards the cabinet and flinging it open. One of the hinges creaked dangerously under the force, his eyes scanning the shelves. Basic alchemy package, it looked like; herbs and plants, a turnip, and various other ingredients that he didn't bother to identify. What drew his interest was a small wooden box, lying near the bottom shelf.

Immediately, he snatched it up, shaking it near his ear. "What's this?" The sound of glass smacking off of wood met his ears.

“Don't!” Ileana began as Torrential manhandled the fragile contents of the container.

He paused in his shaking, and glanced up at her. "Why not?" He asked, all curiosity.

“It's fragile,” she replied weakly. Though, there was a spike to her anxiety that was poorly concealed. A quickening of her already rapid pulse.

"Fragile?" He muttered, turning the box over and over in his hands.

"Of course it's fragile. I haven't met something I couldn't break."

He held the box over his head in a throwing position, smiling at her. "Tell me what it is, or we'll see how fragile it can be."

“Please, you don't know how hard it is to come by some of those herbs...” Ileana tried to explain. “They're alchemical mixtures. It's dangerous.” The last part was a lie, but given her already heightened state of anxiety, it would be all but indiscernible at the moment.

"Dangerous? Lady, I'm a vampire." He said, drawing the word out. "If I didn't want dangerous, I'd walk into the sunlight and meditate for a day. Danger is my middle name. I laugh in the face of danger. On a scale of one to danger, I'd be... high on the scale!"

He lifted the box higher, shaking it experimentally. "A bit of danger could be fun, huh?"

“Please, what is it you want?” Ileana asked again.

"That's a question, isn't it." He muttered, opening the box with a flick of his wrist. "What do I want? What does anyone want?"

Peering inside at the assortment of syringes and vials, he came to an answer. "I want Wolfsbane." He declared. "You have Wolfsbane. Let's work out an arrangement."

Torrential's reply left a growing unease in the pit of Ileana's stomach. “What sort of arrangement?” she asked.

"Depends on you." He said, smiling. "If you prove cooperative, this could be the sort of arrangement that is a continued factor. If you prove uncooperative, then it'll be a one time transaction." He smiled wider, incredibly pleased with his own veiled threat.

"Here's the deal; a trade. I give you..." He paused, and then admitted that his vocabulary was exhausted. "I give you life, and you give me a steady supply of wolfsbane. You get to live, and I get to kill werewolves. I think it's a pretty damn good deal."

“You don't want that one then. Check the back of the cupboard, the vials there... on the top shelf,” Ileana explained. What Torrential held in his hand was too diluted to bring down a werewolf efficiently, and while the thought crossed her mind to send him away with that, so as to salvage her own supply, she decided the long term consequences wouldn't be worth it. “I can try, but you don't understand, it doesn't grow this time of year. It's very difficult to come by...”

Torrential was silent as he walked back to the cupboard, sifting through ingredients with acute carelessness, sending the ingredients scattering with his big palms. He pulled two of the vials from the shelf, inhaling deeply from them as his eyes slid closed. The scent reminded him of Varia, for some reason. He grinned.

"It's also very difficult not to kill you. I'm sure you understand." He didn't turn back to her, swirling the vials around in front of his eye. In his mind, blood flowed. Wolf blood. The savage grin spread, spearing his bottom lip with his fangs.

Ileana didn't have much of an answer to that. Turning her gaze away she pulled her knees up to her chest and hoped that Torrential would simply leave now that he had what he wanted. Of course, with the sun on the rise, that seemed unlikely.

“I'll do what I can.”

He turned to face her, the vials in his hands gleaming. He nodded at her - once, then twice, the first display of nerves that the hardened warrior displayed in their entire encounter. "That's good. Yes. I'll return every couple of months or so - or when I run out. Wolf killing is a delicate business."

"Now, your scar's suddenly unattractive, so I'm going to probably sleep for a while. Gettin' tired of looking at it. What did that, anyways?"

Ileana brushed her finger tips over the scar tissue around her eye, growing rather self-conscious at Torrential's words. “I don't remember.” It was an odd answer to say the least.

"You don't remember." He said, flatly. "Right. Don't need to be a bitch; was just making conversation."

He turned and headed towards her bed, cracking his neck by rolling it on his shoulders. "I'm going to sleep. Try not to wake me. I'm testy when I wake up."

He then folded himself into a crouch, his elbows hooking his knees close to his chest, chin resting on top of them. He slept curled, like a combatant ready to spring forward.

Within moments, his breathing deepened, he rocked forwards slightly, and he was asleep.

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
Ileana was busy at work upon a small seat, grinding various herbs up into a mortar. The exact mixture would be difficult to place, though the pungent odor of wolfsbane stood out to Ileana. She had come to recognize it by scent alone as of late.

Resting behind a closed curtain was Gabriella, upon the small bed at the back of the vardo. The arrangement was cramped, given that the wagon was designed to house only one individual, but she couldn't take the woman to her kinsmen. She would be put out, or worse.

The unconscious woman's wounds had been cleaned and dressed, but it was largely unnecessary to check on them by this point. The affliction had begun to take hold, and the wounds would be healing on their own. Though, her regenerative capabilities wouldn't be in full swing yet, and it would likely be a few days before they were healed completely.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella Lolenia
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Gabriella turned with a hoarse groan coming from her tired throat. She ached horribly, body wriggling for a few moments as she tried to figure out where she was. Something had happened. But what? Her eyes remained shut to try and drown out the pounding headache she had, and she turned her head sideways. Everything god damn hurt. Someone was going to suffer for this.

Her eyes suddenly shot open. She wasn't at a hospital. There was no clean sterile smell. Oh shit. Something happened and she wasn't in hospital. This could be bad. Her eyes swept around the room, trying to get a grasp on her surroundings.

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae
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#, as written by Tiko
At the sound of movement from the back of the vardo, Ileana set the mortar and pestle down and rose from her seat. Though it wasn't to the back that she went, but rather, to a small cupboard that appeared to be filled with more herbs and various alchemical concoctions. It was a small wooden box that she retrieved.

Only after she had cracked it open to ensure that the contents were secure and in order did she move to approach Gabriella.

The curtain was slid back gently, so as to not startle the no doubt disoriented woman. It wasn't hard to identify Ileana's gypsy origins, given her choice of wardrobe. Her light earthen skin tone and thick locks of hair left her with an almost exotic look, but it was her face that dominated initial impressions. Marring her features was heavy scarring around her left eye, and the eye itself was a bloodshot milky white hue.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

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Character Portrait: Gabriella Lolenia
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Gabriella was having trouble focussing, but she seemed to get the general idea of what was going on. Her eyes locked onto Ileana the best she could. "A bit sore..." she admitted in her coarse voice, tilting her head slightly to try and loosen her neck. "What happened?" Her eyes dropped to her own wounds and she was starting to get a pretty good idea. Shit. Shit shit shit. It was a werewolf. She could remember that. What happened? Spur of the moment, she just couldn't remember...