[center] [img]https://i.imgur.com/PVXYWf6.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/qAakc1A.gif[/img][/center] [center] [color=7DBC89]Race:[/color] Yuan-ti [color=7DBC89]Class:[/color] Rogue Arcane Assassin [color=7DBC89]Location:[/color] Bar [color=7DBC89]Interactions:[/color] [@FunnyGuy] Wendel, [@PapaOso] Bastion & Talis [color=7DBC89]Mentions:[/color] [@Apex Sunburn] Vallena [color=7DBC89]Equipment:[/color] [hider=Full Equipment List]🌸 A finely crafted katana 🌸 A concealed dagger laced with paralytic venom 🌸 Throwing needles coated with different poisons 🌸 Black silk combat outfit reinforced with hidden Mithril chainmail 🌸 Soft-soled boots that allow for near-silent movement 🌸 Smoke bombs and illusion charms for quick escapes 🌸 A set of forged documents under multiple aliases 🌸 A tea set and an assortment of teas 🌸 Incense[/hider] [color=7DBC89]Attire:[/color] [color=7DBC89]Gold Balance:[/color] 51 [color=7DBC89]Injuries:[/color] None currently, but has numerous faded scars on her body [img]https://i.imgur.com/phiFSQQ.png[/img][/center] Meiyu’s amusement simmered beneath the surface like coals beneath silk–warm, glowing, patient. She watched the trembling little woman clutch her satchel like it might open a portal and suck her into escape. She was curious about the girl, more than she had anticipated. But curiosity came easily to Meiyu; people were puzzles, and this one looked like it might sing if you pressed the right pieces. Her gaze shifted lazily toward the Warforged again as he responded. “It is... important. It was a gift.” [I]Click.[/I] A puzzle piece clicked into place. Her brow lifted a fraction. The pride in his voice was subtle, but it was there. Sweet, almost. Like watching a mountain try to explain the sentimental value of moss. Meiyu had just raised her drink again when, without warning, Bastion [I]moved.[/I] Like a sudden landslide wrapped in politeness, he lifted the small woman off her stool with the kind of solemn care reserved for sacred rituals and injured cats. She blinked, once, slowly, as the spectacle unfolded beside her. “You’re giving me waterboarding energy right now.” “That does not sound hydrating.” Meiyu let out a sound she rarely gave anyone: a laugh. It wasn’t a sound that belonged in a tavern or a marketplace or even this plane of reality. No, her laugh was like bells chiming through mist–clear, silver, and strange, with a haunting melody that curled in the air and hung there like perfume. It started soft, disbelieving, but grew into something rich and melodious. It rolled with silk-wrapped mirth, seductive even in its hilarity, yet oddly childlike in the unguarded joy it carried. Heads turned. Her hand moved to her mouth, the first two fingers pressing gently to her lips, as she tried halfheartedly to smother the sound. Her eyes glittered, fangs peeking ever so slightly with the curve of her grin as she looked between Bastion and the scandalized raccoon-in-human-form now clutching a glass of water like it might bite her back. [color=7DBC89]“You may be the most terrifyingly sweet thing I’ve seen all week. Well, next to Vallena over there.”[/color] She said to the Warforged while gesturing briefly towards Val. Her eyes flicked back to Talis, her tone still warm with the glow of laughter. With that, her gaze shifted smoothly back to the dwarf. Wendel had raised his tankard, voice warm and friendly in a way that grounded the moment. Her expression softened at the gesture, a rare thing. There was something charming about him—a storm-weathered tree in a forest of saplings. [color=7DBC89]“To safe travels,”[/color] she echoed, lifting her own glass in turn. But when Wendel offered [i]his[/i] half-finished mead, she paused only briefly. [color=7DBC89]“Generous,”[/color] she murmured, brow arching in amusement. [color=7DBC89]“Not many would offer a stranger their drink, especially not one with eyes like mine.”[/color] Her tone held no accusation, only intrigue. Her fingers closed gently around the tankard he offered. Then, with unhurried grace, she brought the tankard to her lips and drank. Not a dainty sip, but a full, effortless pull from the vessel, as if tasting something ancient and familiar. She set it down with a soft clink, exhaling through her nose in satisfaction. [color=7DBC89]“Wendel,”[/color] she repeated, tasting the name like it was a spice. [color=7DBC89]“A pleasure. You’ve got good taste,”[/color] she said, lips curving. [color=7DBC89]“And a bold heart, offering drinks to girls with fangs.”[/color] Then her eyes slid back to Talis, still clinging to that satchel like it might sprout legs and flee. [color=7DBC89]“You’ve got the look of a smuggler. Or a sorcerer. Or maybe just a scholar with questionable life choices.”[/color] She smiled, soft as silk and twice as dangerous. [color=7DBC89]“So, little sparrow… what’s in the bag?”[/color] A beat. [color=7DBC89]“Wendel, want to place a wager? I say it’s cursed. Or alive. Or cursed [i]and[/i] alive.”[/color] Her tone was playful, but her eyes were hunting.