Apparently they kick you out the mall if you give Santa spiked eggnog
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23 days ago
MUSTARDDDDDDDDD
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1 mo ago
Or don't
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R.I.P MF DOOM, 4 years ago today since illest villain left the scene.
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Bio
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▅ SALSA VERDE ▅SALSA VERDE
▅▅▅▅austin | ♏︎ | he/him | 28 | vegan
Hi, I’m Salsa Verde, arguably the best salsa and formally known as the writer, Syn. I’m a Wildlife Biologist traveling the country looking to work with the coolest: herps, mammals, birds, and invertebrates I can get my hands on. I also like plants, trees, and fungi specifically. I’ve been writing for about 13 years now and recently decided to get back into it. I enjoy anything from casual to high roleplay, 1x1, and arena. My main genres tend to be anime, SOL, and superhero but I’m really down to participate in anything. And yeah I like all that weeb shit.
It was that time already? Moving through dirty tiled floor and half dead florescent lights buzzing with exhaustion by trying to cast full brightness, led into the darkened patio room of the barracks where a lonely Anastasia could be found. Her jumpsuit had been unzipped from the nape and hung snugly at her waist. A wifebeater, stained yellow at the edges of her armpits and collar, was slowly becoming darker with each bead of sweat soaked inside the arrogant cotton. The humid rain did something to alleviate Anastasia’s ability to overthink or worse, reminisce. Luckily, there was an immediate call to action for Nemesis team to mobilize into an Osprey ASAP. The lightning illuminated the window, only catching the half of her body that was burnt cadaver.
Anastasia walked in a daze really, finding her way somehow in the foldable seat on the aerodynamic aircraft she had stepped on so many times she had lost count. The others were quick to fall asleep or left to their own devices, but she never really slept more than three or four hours, let alone on mission time. She fingered her pockets fishing for her cigarettes, first meeting the band of her tactical eyepatch then finding the plastic wrapped paper instead. If aliens were real, it would be better for them to see her wear her weakness, not run from it with alloy and leather. She tapped the top of the carton, packing the cigarettes to her liking. Fire flickered to life at the flick of her zippo, clearly worn down to bits from seeing as much action as she had, adding to the flashing lights that broke the darkness that enveloped the cargo bay.
Deep pulls dragged the life from the cigarette, expelling cumulus clouds of smoke. There was a peaceful ambience to the quiet before the deployment. She looked around, eyeing the rest of the operatives aboard. Some were so young they should have been wet behind the ears still, while others looked more like her age simply from spying their mileage, stress had a funny way of aging us faster than intended. And so, hours passed as she idly glared at the shine of her boots and rotated one cigarette out for another, ashing the stick on the gap between her and some mousey faced man, with a jaw weaker than the weapons they provided for loadout. If she had her way, she’d smuggle in an AK-74U no problem.
Her quite peace was broken by a noisy gnat that clawed at her ear. “блядь!”, She quickly fished the earpiece from her canal and turned it off, smashing it between her fingers and palms. The little ill-fated jewelry piece found it’s way into one of her tactical pockets of her vest where it would stay until she had to link with her squadron. By now everyone was awake and looking blankly into space, no doubt listening to the orders of whatever commander was in charge. Remembering she was given the earpiece and an optical gadget; Anastasia retrieved it from her accoutrement. Unintentionally, she managed to affix it to her face in unison with the others. Technology never ceased to amaze her; it was a wonder wars were still being fought.
No doubt they would reach the LZ within a few minutes if the higher up rang in. Finally, this old gal would be able to stretch her old bones once again. Amidst her stretch the mousey one finally broke the silence. “девочка, I remember you from somewhere, no?” reaching across her personal space to shake hands with the squeaky one was brazen and unsettled her, an urge rose in her to grab the hand before it could make contact, but she was not as dexterous as she once was. She turned to the boy, “ha! You look like you would break easily if you were not so far away little мышь” scoffing with her thick Belarusian accent.
Anastasia’s physique is a shell of what it once was, poetic in a sense, since shells were the vehicle of her disfigurement. Anastasia stands quite tall amidst her compatriots or perhaps it’s her titillating and domineering personality that gives her a few more inches in the eyes of others. Unkempt carrot colored curls slicked back with strands hang in juxtaposition with her completely shaven neighbors. Regardless if she agrees with her hairstyle matters not in the inability for hair to grow out her left cranial without looking like splotchy patches of orange grass. One eye has a spring green to its luster while the other has had the light robbed from it, leaving it glassy and opaque. In an attempt to draw more attention to it, she’s adorned with an eyebrow piercing snuggly on the ridge of her eye socket.
Scars and piercings make up the sum of her facial property, extending down into her left side. Her arm from shoulder to fingertip is a mix of failed skin grafts and severely burned epidermis, losing severity as it reaches down her leg. A body that was once prized for its sinew, has now softened in shape and hardened with every theater of war. Her personal style revolves around casual military wear. Boots whether chelsea’s or combat are worn, with corduroy pants or slacks and a mix of colored button ups unbuttoned as to not take away from the snug turtlenecks and military jackets.
Psychological Assessment of Sokolov, Anastasia. Patient is exhibiting signs of Exposure to consecutive campaigns hasPatient has shown remarkable signs of retention of peers through charismatic disposition, has absorbed training like a sponge. In good consciousness I cannot approve Yet in my professional opinion and as a servant to the Motherland, I clear Agent Sokolov for the continued defense and indentured servitude of Mother Russia. Я не награждаю вас никакими баллами, и пусть Бог помилует вашу душу.
The life of Anastasia prior to her decorated military service beginning at the ripe age of 18 holds no real value or any significance. Her inception was right around the time that the collapse of the Soviet Union transpired and the day before that, the independence of Belarus. Growing up in a post war country under an axis power was rather rough for her parents, but they found a way to make a living in honest positions that would allow them to peacefully welcome a child into the world. Anatasia grew up shadowing her parents and learning all sorts of blue collar skills that otherwise would be taboo or rather looked down upon for a woman to inherit. Higher education was the norm pushed onto women in Belarus while men did their compulsory service and then took up a majority of the labor force.
Higher education never appealed to the young tomboy, most of her time in education was spent either in suspension or continued absence. A headache for her parents until they gave in and trusted she would find her own way. And that she did, with her barely scraping through her final years of education she pivoted into joining military ranks and serving her country, even if that meant to further her opportunities she would become a puppet for the oppressive motherland.
____________________________________________________________________________ SERVICE RECORD
-Second Chechen War | Special Battalions Vostok and Zapad. -Russo-Georgian War | Spetsnaz GRU -Russo-Ukrainian War | Spetsnaz GRU/Little Green Men -Syrian Civil War | Spetsnaz GRU -Classified Engagements
-Earned the operative name 'Angel Dust' from her proclivities towards explosive devices and death. -Became burned, blind, and disfigured from proximity to an IED in the Syrian Civil War. Lost two of her platoon to the eye of the blast. -Chain smokes like it's going out of style. -Выше нас только звёзды
Anastasia’s physique is a shell of what it once was, poetic in a sense, since shells were the vehicle of her disfigurement. Anastasia stands quite tall amidst her compatriots or perhaps it’s her titillating and domineering personality that gives her a few more inches in the eyes of others. Unkempt carrot colored curls slicked back with strands hang in juxtaposition with her completely shaven neighbors. Regardless if she agrees with her hairstyle matters not in the inability for hair to grow out her left cranial without looking like splotchy patches of orange grass. One eye has a spring green to its luster while the other has had the light robbed from it, leaving it glassy and opaque. In an attempt to draw more attention to it, she’s adorned with an eyebrow piercing snuggly on the ridge of her eye socket.
Scars and piercings make up the sum of her facial property, extending down into her left side. Her arm from shoulder to fingertip is a mix of failed skin grafts and severely burned epidermis, losing severity as it reaches down her leg. A body that was once prized for its sinew, has now softened in shape and hardened with every theater of war. Her personal style revolves around casual military wear. Boots whether chelsea’s or combat are worn, with corduroy pants or slacks and a mix of colored button ups unbuttoned as to not take away from the snug turtlenecks and military jackets.
Psychological Assessment of Sokolov, Anastasia. Patient is exhibiting signs of Exposure to consecutive campaigns hasPatient has shown remarkable signs of retention of peers through charismatic disposition, has absorbed training like a sponge. In good consciousness I cannot approve Yet in my professional opinion and as a servant to the Motherland, I clear Agent Sokolov for the continued defense and indentured servitude of Mother Russia. Я не награждаю вас никакими баллами, и пусть Бог помилует вашу душу.
The life of Anastasia prior to her decorated military service beginning at the ripe age of 18 holds no real value or any significance. Her inception was right around the time that the collapse of the Soviet Union transpired and the day before that, the independence of Belarus. Growing up in a post war country under an axis power was rather rough for her parents, but they found a way to make a living in honest positions that would allow them to peacefully welcome a child into the world. Anatasia grew up shadowing her parents and learning all sorts of blue collar skills that otherwise would be taboo or rather looked down upon for a woman to inherit. Higher education was the norm pushed onto women in Belarus while men did their compulsory service and then took up a majority of the labor force.
Higher education never appealed to the young tomboy, most of her time in education was spent either in suspension or continued absence. A headache for her parents until they gave in and trusted she would find her own way. And that she did, with her barely scraping through her final years of education she pivoted into joining military ranks and serving her country, even if that meant to further her opportunities she would become a puppet for the oppressive motherland.
____________________________________________________________________________ SERVICE RECORD
-Second Chechen War | Special Battalions Vostok and Zapad. -Russo-Georgian War | Spetsnaz GRU -Russo-Ukrainian War | Spetsnaz GRU/Little Green Men -Syrian Civil War | Spetsnaz GRU -Classified Engagements
-Earned the operative name 'Angel Dust' from her proclivities towards explosive devices and death. -Became burned, blind, and disfigured from proximity to an IED in the Syrian Civil War. Lost two of her platoon to the eye of the blast. -Chain smokes like it's going out of style. -Выше нас только звёзды
Dropping off at the farmstead was a stop she hadn’t foreseen but had no ability to pass up. Both rider and dragon had been sorely exhausted at this point and by no means had it in them to storm Wesca’s abode. It wasn’t long before Zarina, albeit apprehensive, was able to fall asleep in the company of the psychotic girl. The attendance of a massive golem and her always near dragon also served as a deterrent and steadfast security. Yansee waited around a bit, staring at the moonlight wondering if she’d be able to sleep in the bales of hay. Pauppaup would eventually find his way back to his finger, it beginning to shuffle in her pocket. Unaware of its placement she could feel a constant motion in her pocket before thumbing through it and finding a rather discolored finger.
His silhouette appeared in the confines of the door frame, hanging high in the backdrop. Yansee, elated to say the least, rushed over with finger riding her shoulder to hug the walking corpse. Like an inch worm the finger work its way down Pauppaups arm and back onto his hand. A few crunches and it was back in place. ”Pauppaup!” realizing waking up a dragon was a bad omen, her teeth gritted and her shoulders loosened. ”Pauppaup” she said in a hushed tone. ”We best be going now love, it won’t be long before Wesca sicks a third party on us”. Yansee nodded and the two took off in the twilight hours of night leaving the dragon and warrior behind, they would meet again.
Yansee arrived back in An Zenui waiting at the gates where the guards had inhibited her approach to Wesca’s estate once more.
The sun was just below the horizon, still a glow waiting to break over it, but there were already people moving about on the vast and incongruously lush estate of Talo-Tecazan-Mostix-Cazui and Zast-Wesca-fa-Bantarsca. The guards were out and they were unusually insistent on barring Yansee, who was - after all - known to them, or should've been. She had an ace int he hole in the form of Pauppaup, however. While he had taken a different and stealthier route, his finger was in her pocket, tapping along in the secret code they had developed. Yansee may have been in the process of being informed that she would have to wait for another hour and half, but he was, this very moment, telling her that there was something down the side lane, in an area blocked from sight by the mansion's lush gardens, that she had to see. The question was: could she do so without arousing further suspicion, and... was it worth it?
“Coom off et then” she patronized the guards vehemently against her entering, they paid her no heed or replied in any kind of body inflection. They were worse than zombies and that was saying a lot for the queen of the rotten flesh herself. “Ryt then, fook yuuuu” she said with emphasis as well as putting both her middle fingers, webbing and all, up at both guards. Just as she was about to powerhouse her way through, she felt the finger of Pauppaup sending her a message. As to not rouse suspicion she decided to relent and walk past the estate. Luckily, they were blind to her, allowing her to slip through the side lane of both estates. Passing the lush gardens which drank up all the valuable water the people could use, Yansee spotted a queer image. There was an unmarked carriage foreign to her or Talo and Wesca’s possession. She cocked her head seeing a person residing inside. She stealthily approached, pulling Pauppaups ear, ”Oo yu think tha es?” Yansee’s eyes plastered to the cart.
A very fancy but totally unmarked carriage that you know doesn't belong to Talo or Wesca. They appear to have a visitor. The figure inside the carriage looks like a sirrahi. Yansee stretched her senses out further, sensing more cazenax in the house. Most are clearly servants, but one seems to be flanked to either side by a pair of large sirrahi.
The curiosity got the better of her even if it killed the cat and she brought it back, it was still a cat. Not a Schrödinger in sight. A heavy hand stretched out from the shadow, bigger in presence than size as it seized her shoulder, ”Now hold on, are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Pauppaup asked with slight apprehension. ”Ya, leets go” the Eeaiko made her way to the carriage still using the shadows of the side street to obscure her. She creeped and crawled to the carriage door without alerting the Sirrahi to her presence, not that they were invested in anything other than the cazenax help.
Alarmed at the unwelcomed guest the Sirrahi shifted to the defensive. Yansee jumped at the Sirrahi with uncontrollable rage, her first caustic chemical attack nearly grazes the tenant. Of little mind and reason just as Yansee, they chose to attack rather than call for reinforcements, a mistake she wouldn’t take lightly. A massive rebuke aimed to send her back to the water, but Pauppaup jumped in the carriage and saved Yansee from being fried fish. Rolling back to her feet she readied a dark blast that zapped the life out of the Sirrahi passenger. The sirrahi coachman, who was simply doing his job sitting there with the carriage, is murdered in cold blood. Craabs, eye don et eggen. Deedn meen to keel em” Pauppaup shook his head like a disappointed dad and began pilfering through the carriage, while his daughter resuscitated the corpse into a mindless entity.
Pauppaup found a number of things in the carriage: A shawl with a floral pattern of nezan blooms in gold and purple - royal colours. A small, locked chest. A pendant in the shape of a stylized eye that exudes powerful dark energies. And a second unlocked chest full of gardening supplies. Yansee came over with her new blithering zombie to find the exploits of their ambush. ”Well be taken em all” already forcing the new slave to lug the materials around. The chest is what she eyed the most, carefully enough she was able to pick the lock revealing several strange oddities. Three small, strange coins that seem to exude dark energy. A few damaged scraps of paper with strange writing on them. A vial of blood. A control rod for a demon. A small pouch of gold coins. She wasn’t sure what any of them led to, but the dark energies called out to her. ”Powerful trinkets, especially in this carriage. Better keep them for now and find out the use for them later. Shall we be leaving Yans-“ he could not finish his sentence, seeing as Yansee had already begun skulking towards the other two cazernax. With that, Pauppaup let out a sigh and followed after her.
Yansee elected to take to the roof to get a much stealthier approach, at least in her mind. There was three chimneys in front of her, one tiny one she could herself barely squeeze through, one directly adjacent to that that could fit comfortably and one in the farthest reaches that had enough room for two. She dismembered her new zombie and threw a hand down the first chimney, which had caused quite the stir downstairs. To which she was deaf to seeing as she had already plummeted down the chimney adjacent to the first. Pauppaup stayed above, seeing the lack of decorum. Yansee had chosen the unfortunate placement of the chimney directly in front of those she was trying to avoid. Caught red-handed, Yansee lands clumsily and is rather badly scalded by the fire. While it's not horrific or anything, some medical attention would be a good idea. Wesca's eyes widen. "Yansee Kensen!?" she exclaims, her bodyguard immediately taking up a position between her and the interloper. "Explain yourself immediately!"
Yansee was blowing on a burn from plopping down the chimney, the sensation of pain for a semiaquatic being was doubled. "Gaards woodent let me en"
"You stupid girl!" Wesca roared. "Did you not think there might have been a reason for that!?"
The other older woman with her shimmered and shifted and then she was striding forward. "Let us not jump to any conclusions here," she followed up dryly, "perhaps it is part of her culture."
Yansee had been caught red handed, both literally from the burns to figuratively. It was by the elderly ladies’ grace that Wesca had not sent her cazenax posse to dispose of her. Not that she would go down without a fight. Luckily, the older woman had provided her sanctity with the perception that perhaps this was how her people entered houses. Yansee sheepishly laughed, “Yu see, aur howses aur under watur, so wee gots too swem into em from the top” knowing the refined culture of the Eeaiko and what they truly did in the water was unknown to most, specifically those who were locked up in a desert capital. Her hands began to sweat a little bit, feeling the warmth budding on the outer ears from anxious anticipation if they would buy her bold-faced lie. The sweat only served to anger the pain from the fresh burn causing her to grit her teeth a bit.
The elderly lady ended up acquiescing her lie, whether she knew so or not. This caused Wesca to settle in with her attitude a bit more. Not out of virtue of Yansee’s made-up cultural norms, but out of respect and cajoling of the older woman. Yansee was bid an audience in the room with the two, having disarmed her guard a bit more under the careful watch of the elderly woman who revealed herself to be the dowager. A name and rank that was way out of the realm of understanding in the terms of her correlation to An Zenui and Wesca. Yansee understood and spoke better with the dead than the living. She was on her own mission which left her tunnel visioned most of the time. The thrill of chaos was more enticing than the politics that ran the world and the shadows behind them. Before matters could delve any deeper, Wesca immediately asked about the mission she had assigned Yansee just before.
Rifling through her persons’ she found the amulet that signified the family Cuitmits had come from and his untimely death or, so she was meant to believe. The amulet was sufficient evidence to corroborate her tale. What luck she was lacking in subterfuge entering the mansion, she was gaining back in conversation. The two prattled on, leaving Yansee to follow every other word and sit silently as if she were a child waiting for her mother to leave a friend or aunt’s house. The subject matter finally turned back to Yansee with another mission in tail. Yansee felt sick, due to acknowledging the fact she had already bonded herself to Zarina. If she didn’t want to become charred fish, courtesy of her dragon, then she had to play double agent for Wesca and the now dowager. Without much option, Yansee entertained Wesca’s bidding once more and quickly exited the mansion to make off with her spoils of war.
There was bound to be something of use or value in her plunder.
Zarina found herself not so much in a pit but within a massive pile of sand. She was at least thirty meters down and more was pouring down on top of her and alqasas at every moment. What was more was that it was heavy - unnaturally so. There were ten small alcoves surrounding the circular pit, and all but two were occupied by hard-bitten-looking cazenax. The remaining two were home to... a pair of eeaiko!?
“Eshi.” grunted Zarina, ass on a pile of sand with more unusually heavy sediments befalling her. Instinctively, she rolled down the cone to get closer to one of the alcoves, helm back on and quickly trying to not succumb to panic. The sand at least offered cover from the majority of the alcoves occupied by hostiles, but now she had to face those behind her, shield at a ready.
The dragon flailed in fear and rage. The sand was not going to keep it still for long as it immediate flapped its wings, causing a whirlwind of sand to cover the whole 'arena' while it tried to ascend. The sand, however, was immensely heavy and it was solidly half-buried. For all that froabases were large and impressive creatures, they were lightly built out of necessity for flying. Getting free would be a struggle. Much as Zarina tried to extricate herself and Alqasas thrashed with all of its might, the sands were hungry and closing in. Yet, it wasn't all natural. Someone was pushing against their efforts - someone strong and versed in magic. The struggle was desperate but - by the barest of margins - Alqasas broke free. Was it time to escape or time to fight? The assassin's darts strike true, piercing the gaps between the scales and puncturing the froabas' hide right in front of its wings. The magnificent beast cries out in pain and anger. “This is bullshit!” growled Zarina, doused in heavy sands and narrowly avoiding turning into a crispy afterthought to the assailants. There were ten enemies, four of which had shown themselves to be unusually dangerous. Meanwhile she was stuck in the middle of it with her dragon unable to take flight. “Alqasas!” she called for her wounded dragon, but it was no use. The beast was enraged and definitely confused. “Fuck.”
Desperate, Zarina dashed through the line of fire and straddled her flailing beast at her own peril. The Froabas never truly calmed, but the familiarity of its mother-figure did provide enough structure for it to consider its only viable option: Up. Withstanding the unnatural sands, the majestic creature clung to the stony surface and ascended. Many efforts were made to stop Zarina and her alpha steed’s escape, but ultimately the sheer power and speed of the animal were still formidable even when bound to the earth. With swift hops to freedom, the dragon pierced through and took to the sky.
“Oraff you sweet sweet dove!” celebrated the pumped up Virangish as Alqasas drilled into the air and picked up speeds that few creatures of such size could contest. The two girls circled the village from a “safe” altitude. “There goes the info. Eshit, that was a terrible idea.” she clenched one of the protruding back-scales of her dragon as she directed her to progressively create distance from the village. “Sorry, baby. This is all on me.” she peered at the beast’s wing and noticed the hurting it had taken. Guilt and responsibility filled her, prompting Zarina to call upon her knowledge of temporal magic and mend the damaged wing.
The motley crew of sorts were no match for the power of the dragon and its tamer. Yansee did not have the proper resources, bodies, to be able to tether the woman to her sandy grave. Tried as she might to stay on her tail, the gauntlet mercenary had slipped through her fingers and took flight. Her eye still set on the dragon as her bounty moved something within her that normally would have laid dormant. A sense of yearning for something other than her goal. Snapping her fingers, she pointed at the talented temporal cazenak, then gestured her finger upward. It didn’t take long for him to realize her strategy and acquiesce. In a blip, Yansee was in the air, hurtling towards the back of the dragon in her best chances and a bag of bones on the floor in her worst outcome. She could feel the presence of her dotting father boosting her mid-air alacrity, allowing her to land squarely behind Zarina on the back of her dragon.
Tapping her on the shoulder, she sheepishly asked, “Eye theenk wee cood tawck aubew this”
A temporal ripple was sensed - Zarina knew what was coming. Behind her! The poor Eeaiko barely had time to make her introduction before eating the back of Zarina's helm to the face. Nothing too hard, but enough to have the fish-girl recoil back near the tail. When Yansee would come to, there would be a cannon's barrel trained right at her face, protruding out of the dragonhead-shaped shield. “What in Shune's asshole could cause a fish to stray into a fucking desert?” the Virangish inquired. “You've got three seconds to jump.”
Stars and darkness plagued her vision, the pain and force jostling her backwards. Her hands reactively brought themselves up to her nose as comfort, but quickly went back down to the dragons back to keep her aboard the meat vehicle.
“That’s okay Dear, don’t let her hit you though! Try again”
“Gaut eet pauppaup” opening her eyes again, she saw her second dragon head with a cannon birthing from it’s mouth, pointed straight at her, “Whut wazzat fou? Uu no uu ain vury nyce. Um eer four dis eer dwaagun an uu. Eym eer four cleen up”
Zarina squinted. What was this moonspeak? “What? Ears for a dragon, me and clean up?” patience ran thin when she had to think in such dire situations. It made her trigger finger all the more itchy. “One.” The dragon took exception to having extra load on its back, especially if it was unknown to her. The reptile undulated its body in an attempt to expel what was on its back, while the dragon rider could just take to the air if she became collateral.
Nothing was really going her way, and the armored woman had little in regard to defragmenting what Yansee was trying to say. Again, the dragon shook attempting to whip the Eeaiko off the back of it. Yansee, not as nimble in the air as she was in the sea, lost her footing and ended up even closer to the back of the tail. With one second left, she searched for what word could get her to halt. “Weescaa”
Meanwhile, her father below searched for the temporal mage prepping him to either send him up or rally them to attack the dragon.
“Eh?” more nonsense. Certainly not enough for the threat to go away, but enough for Zarina to think. “What the Eshit is a Weescaa?”
“qeemets baus”
The dragon's swift movements allow it to take advantage of Zarina's temporal dilation and swiftly poise itself for a dive. Its target: The biggest threat of the group. The colossal attack creates an absolute inferno below and the cazenax sorceror eats the brunt of it. However, he emerges from the middle, scalded, his hair and top burnt away, but otherwise undamaged. As she watches, the hair regrows itself. He tilts her head and glares up at her.
“The boss?” Zarina growled, her attention now oriented to the incoming attacks. A prime opportunity for Yansee if she wanted to claim two nice prizes. “Where is that Weescaa, then?” It was at around that moment that, in the direction of nearby dunes, that a horse and rider appeared, or... something like that anyhow. They were quickly sighted by the cazenax, though no moves had been made as of yet.
“Foe me too no an uu too fine owt, eef uu caan cach me” waving the girl bye after meagerly surviving the onslaught of the cazenax. Like a slick slug, she threw her weight to the side, propelling her off the side of the dragon leaving her to free fall. Her father, realizing what must have happened up top began to position himself to catch his daughter in her descent.
After a moment, however, three of the ambushers peeled off from the rest and made a beeline for what turned out to be Classa and... Tennaxi?
Zarina scoffed but didn't do much to protest the escape. Alqasas could intercept, but not without the risk of killing a useful source of information. One that stood out from the usual crowd, too. Instead, she sought to re-enforce her armour via binding the increasing sand clouds in the air and fastening this craggy layer of armour.
Cuimits, however, had not yet shown himself.
"Exi!" The bowman shouted. "Exi!" He was quick to shoot at the little centaur girl, but he underestimated both her speed and - most crucially - her agility, which was shockingly high. She was upon him in moments, Tennaxi swinging off of her back and landing awkwardly - but unharmed - in the sand.
The child reared up and delivered a kick right into his chest. It crushed his breastplate and sent him sprawling backwards, coughing up blood. He lay there, badly wounded. “Yeah, that's right!” Classa taunted. “You... you stay away from my friends!”
Then, however, there were more serious threats.
An arcane lance leapt from a second attacker's hands to skewer her, but such was the girl's agility that she dodged it almost cleanly, only her tail getting singed. She continued to charge forward. "Exi!" came the shouts. “Exi!” The third attacker, however, did not target Classa, but rather her ally, who was sitting up in the sand, trying to dissuade the girl from doing anything stupid. A colossal gravitational smash came out of nowhere, and Tennaxi simply did not have the capacity to resist it. She found herself instantly flattened, multiple bones broken, and on the edge of unconsciousness. She let out a hissed shriek of pain. Others were attacking Zarina as well - five of them.
Classa's berserker charge continues and the eyes of one of the cazenax widen.
The cazenax tries to dodge, but Classa is simply too agile. She adjusts, midstep, and plows a kinetically enhanced punch straight through the man's visor. It shatters on impact, along with his nose and the orbital of one of his eyes. Already wounded from earlier, he staggers backwards and collapses. Classa rears up to stamp on him and deliver a finisher.
Only the timely intervention of the second ambusher saves him, and her kinetic bash sends the girl sprawling away. She is in a full-on rage at this point. "You killed Tennaxi!" she wails.
Zarina leapt from her dragon and landed a few meters before Tennaxi. Her massive shield-turned-gauntlet smashed into the sand and earth, expelling a large kinetic wave in the direction of the remaining assailant that struck the two little ones.
However, safe as that Cazenax may feel, they fail to notice the dragon landing right on top of it.
Buffeted backwards, the cazenax landed awkwardly, clutching her wrist and hissing in pain.
A combination of some chemical lubrication and a distracting arrow from the nearby bowman are enough for the dragon's target to slip away with only minor injuries. She was, however, not looking very good. ("Why are you here!?") she screamed in her native tongue. ("Why have you come to our village to kill our people and ruin our way of life!?") This was the vilest of evils and they were all firmly resolved to fight it. They did not appear to have any other realistic option. This outsider had come from nowhere and seemed determined to not only interfere in their gods-given right to self-determination, but to kill them all for the sport of it.
Pauppaup searches for Cuimits Yansee had been reluctant to join the fray of battle after being received by her father. Her plan had been foiled and now she knew not of who’s allegiance to take. Not one to seek to kill she sat on the sidelines in her original instruction to simply serve as clean up. She had fulfilled her task of retrieving or executing Cuimits seeing as he was still MIA. The entry of two new participants, one specifically, had caught her eye. The ability to reanimate the centaur girl would be an invaluable addition to her compendium of soldiers. Only proven upon her absolutely decimating the skull and chest of the cazenax in front of her. After the onslaught, against her better judgement, Yansee used her binding magics to grievously heal the cazenax back to full health. “Fysti that wun aye?”
He blinked and nodded grimly. "I'm in your debt for the heal, but what are you doing here, fish-girl?" He shook his head now. "You're no fighter and this isn't your fight. That dragon which is gonna kill you along with all of us, you know. She came out of nowhere just to attack us."
"Biyin time too fine nein fingurs, wee leaf aftur" taking solace in how respectful and caring the cazanax was.
"The boss is the target," her ally replied. "The dragon bitch wants him most of all." He shook his head. "I don't think he's coming out, not unless he's stupid."
The dragon folds its wings about itself protectively as gravity itself comes crashing in, hurling it into the ground. It tumbles in the sand, kicking up a fantastic amount. It lets out a groan and shakes itself off, favoring one wing slightly, but is otherwise unharmed by an attack that, by all rights, likely should've killed it.
The other cazenax, rising in the sand besdie Yansee, tries to launch a series of sharp blood magic needles at Classa. They scream through the air, arcing and twisting after the girl, but she leaps three and cleanly dodges the last one.
Classa came to a stop and backed up a few steps nervously. She had just seen a man completely erased. People were trying to kill her. They had killed Tennaxi and even hurt Zarina's big dragon. She shook her head, stunned, on the precipice of losing her nerve.
The dragon, face-to-face with the Cazenax Warlock, opted to simply obliterate the enemy by spewing flames.
The flames, however, were cleanly drawn away and absorbed by his quick thinking.
Classa recovered her nerve at just that moment, coming hurtling in at the warlock. He took all of the flame he had absorbed from the dragon and redirected it at the girl.
She sprung away and darted to the side, skidding in the sand, unharmed by virtue of quick reflexes. Tennaxi to regain consciousness.
The magic that tethered Yansee to her father had allowed her to discover that he had not found Cuimits yet. Seeing the Cazenax fight back and just knock Tennaxi unconscious, the odds were beginning to go toward the favor of the hired band. Time was essential for her to continue her search, perhaps if she found Cuimits and could talk down Zarina she could have her cake and eat it too. And so, the “fish”-girl ran over to the injured girl and completely healed her keeping her unconscious.
His attempt to surprise her from behind was thwarted, for such was the child's speed and jumpiness.
"Why are you here!?" he screamed. "Why are you doing this!?" Of course, it was all in cazenax and none of it was understood.
His protests, however, were cut off by the dragon. It ripped him from the ground and tore him to pieces. Another one of these people who dared to oppose its master dead.
Tennaxi managed to come to, shaking the sand out of her hair. She beheld the devastation around her, and her eyes widened. “Wh-what happened here?” She scooted back a few 'steps'.
“Hmmm?” Zarina flinched. Tennaxi was healed? “You're fine.” she remarked, shield still up and protecting both her and the legless Cazenax. “Good.” no time to think of the why, there was still work to do.
The temporal mage could see the writing on the wall. They had been overconfident. They had burned with rage and vengeance, trying to rid the world of this evil that had come to destroy them instead of being satisfied with causing it to run. How they should have followed the creed! You survive, first and foremost. That is paramount. They would all die because of this in that monster's hands. They would and he knew it. He reached out for the threads of space and time...
It was not enough. He could not bring them back. He could not rewind it until before the mistake had been made. Instead, he created a small portal. "I have failed you, my people. I am sorry." He hung his head. "My love, into the breach!" His wife, who had stood dutifully by his side this fight, who had been wounded multiple times, "This fish is no ally of ours anyhow. Look how she abuses the VOID." He and the remaining cazenax attempted to flee through the portal.
Zarina did not, the dragon was about to come until she whistled it down.
With that, they disappeared through the portal. "It tried, my love, but we have made it."
He collapsed in the sand, some miles away. "I am so very sorry. We should have laid low." He shook his head. "Fear not. Our day will come." Cuimits, meanwhile, were being pursued by multiple parties now. He was not so foolish as to believe that any were allies. He turned and launched a dark bolt at once.
Cuimits go down to the ground, thrashign, flailing, and shouting expletives. He is closing in on his home. Two small heads peer cautiously out the window. However, daddy will not be coming home today, or ever again.
Classa catches up. Zarina catches up.
“Oi.” hollered Zarina to the Cuimits hunters. “What are you doing with him?” the dragon hovered over them, casting a massive shadow and dousing the earthlings with constant gusts of air.
Yansee also made it there, though she'd lost control of the zombie for a moment, and it fell somewhat behind.
Cuimits' two children had run over as well. "Zag!" cried Cazan. "Zag, cixist molmo zoan ax!" wept Cazéa. They hung around just outside of range, radiating fear, watching with wide eyes. Cuimits turned to Yansee. “Well then, what are you waiting for?” he demanded. “Do it.” Even bound as he was in Pauppaup's arms, he managed to straighten.
Classa's eyes dart over to the other, younger, children. It's clear that the world has just become a far more frightening and complex place to her young mind than it was but a day earlier. This man - their father - tried to kill her. But they're so small, and so sad. And she does not know how to feel. Unbidden, the girl begins crying. Tennaxi to intervene, she does not. By the narrowest of margins, Yansee's attempt to execute Cuimits was thwarted. Pauppaup's teeth rattle and chomp. He's physically wrenched free, though, a look of disappointment evident on his reanimated face. Cuimits shout at his children in cazenax and they cry. Hesitantly, they start to back up. He shouts again. They turn and run. He glares at Zarina. “I guess you have me,” he admits, free of Pauppaup's grasp. “You know everyone in this village is dead if I speak.” His eyes are unflinching. “Congratulations. Looks like you followed through on your threat.” For Yansee, he has no words. She is one of Wesca's playthings and a dark mage at that.
Zarina regarded Cuimits after evicting the Eeaiko. Or at least part of it. It took a second for her to realize she was holding the man's head. Mortified, she tossed the moving and talking head in a panic. “From what sore of Eshiran's blazing asshole did you fucks all sprout from?!” the body was kicked off to join the head that had rolled a good few yards away.
Cuimits were free and defeated. There was no need to pin such a man anymore. A panting Zarina regarded him and leaned forward, hands on her knees. She was so tired. No sleep. Constantly on the move. This was taking a toll on this chronic insomniac. “Not-” she exhaled and cleared her throat. “Not if I get these shitheads first.” she retorted confidently. A suspicious eye peered toward the direction of her dragon and the other Eeaiko, likely the author of these dreadful corpse that moved. “Weescaa, or whatever. Your boss. “Is that the person you’re afraid of?” she straightened herself after taking a few breaths, guarded and ready for any surprises.
He let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Ah!” The head bandit ran his hands down his face in desperate exasperation. “Ahaha! Aha... Oh Gods, so we're already dead.” It was tinged with hints of madness. He was coming apart at the edges and seemed to resign himself, then. “It's not her. It's her boss, and you'll kill me before I say a thing. My children are Nax, like their ancestors before them. They will struggle without me, but they will survive, as I did.”
Try as she might, her and her newly rectified super zombie were unable to prevent the attempts of the dragon rider and crew to prevent her from accomplishing her task. Perhaps it was in her better interest to allow the girl to die from the aid of her once cazenax allegiance. Pauppaup’s head was thrown in the air like a ball in some game with nets. Yansee yelled and serpentine back and forth in anticipation of catching her father’s head. He safely landed in her embrace and so she pressed his detached head to her cheek and rubbed lovingly, “Aw pau wen foor a lil ryde u deed”. Pauppaup's corpse had propped itself up and by magnetic compulsion trekked back to the head. Cuitmits on the other hand was beginning to turn on her in defiance to death.
A bit annoyed, she scoffed and tucked Pauppaup’s head under her arm and headed over to the girl with the giant gauntlet. “Tieurd? Eye gots the same enfo as im. Leet me keel im an eye geev uu whut uu waana know.” Pauppaup cleared his throat, “Right on Keelee, but perhaps let Pauppaup speak to these ones, my tongue is more familiar to theirs”
Meanwhile, Cuimits buried his face in his hands. His chest heaved and he swallowed.
Zarina frowned at the burst of laughter from Cuimits. He stood his ground, and yet had given some information she could work with. The boss of the boss. And from what the corpse-gatherer was saying, this Wesca had multiple people in her pockets.
“What's the point of exacting an assassination for someone I'm about to close the walls on, hmm?” she regarded the Eeaiko still, but then focused back onto Cuimits. “I get it.” then, her eyes went to Classa, and the kids that raw away. “Take your family and friends, and leave. Things are going to get messy very soon. And now I have a name.” she sighed.
Alqasas did not budge as a barrier between her mistress and the perceived threats. In more than one instance did she unleash a steaming roar that nearly lifted those close enough off their feet.
”At least give us something off his persons to give to Wesca, like a tooth or an eyeball” Pauppaup chipped in. There wasn’t much foot to stand on against a husking dragon and the three others facing them.
“Eight fingers as a new identity. Heh.”
He stood, then, swaying. He shook his head. “What a cactus' hug,” he coughed, swallowing once more. “It's too late. Take whatever you like. The children are doomed anyhow. You have...” He swayed again, dramatically. “have no... idea what you're up against.” He staggered to the side and collapsed. His eyes were fast turning bloodshot. He foamed at the mouth.
“Oh fuck no.” Zarina reached out for Cuimits' shoulder to get the inter chem going faster. “Not when you got a family, asshole.”
"Bit saad ain et Pauppaup?" "Aye, a father would do anything for his kids. Including me" "Aww. Wee bee kneedin tha fynga"
Cuimits simply lay there in the sand, waiting for death. It did not come. It would, of course, arrive at the hands of the mastermind. He knew it, though these outsiders did not understand. They had only doomed his family even more. His children raced out to his side. "Molmo!" they shouted. "Molmo!" He groaned. “I thought I told you to stay back!” That blasted dark mage was closing in on him. Something sparked inside of him, then: anger. Hadn't they taken enough, these outsiders? Now this one wanted a finger as if it was something to just be given away? He stood and sneered. Morning was well underway and the desert wind blew hot and sandy. He stroked Cazan's and Cazéa's heads, one with each hand. “Papa will be fine,” he assured them. Then, to Yansee: “Come on, then, you wicked thing. Come take from me what your master has ordered.”
He began to draw the latent heat of the desert.
There was, on Cuimits' person, precisely one valuable item: a gympsum pendant, rare and precious, carved with the crest of his house - ancient but poor. Yansee had been around the cazenax long enough to recognize it for what it was. The head of each household generally had one - or at least each noble household.
As much as she wanted the finger, she knew the dragon and the woman would do everything in their way to prevent her from causing any bodily harm to the nihilistic cazenax. Gritting her teeth and the prospect of ending up having to return with nothing to show for it was gnawing at her. That is when she noticed the gympsum pendant. “Tell em pauppaup” she barked, “Miss, if you’re not going to let us take something off of him, why not let us walk away with that pendant he’s got on him?”
“I'm right here...” Cuimits remarked, regarding Yansee.
An unimpressed Zarina pivoted to the side to let these two parties discuss it. She was going to arbitrate violence and murder, but non-living things were another matter she cared little for.
There was a surge of VOID energy behind them and, for a moment, their attention may have been drawn. Tennaxi appeared behind them, then, walking on...legs. They were pitch black and translucent and seemed to bleed darkness into the air around her, but they were... functional. She was, in any event, actually somewhat tall for a cazenax.
With the eeaiko not so much as even acknowledging him or his words, Cuimits turned to leave.
”Oi wear yu think yur gooin? Eef yur dead aneeway, tha peendeent wheel buy yu time ore yur life” shouting at the cazenax who had turned his back and began to walk. Pauppaup’s body grabbed his head from Yansee’s grip and placed it back on his neck snapping it into place. She’s right you know. The significance of that pendant would do well to make sure she doesn’t come back to find you or enough time for us to sort this out if that’s what this woman wants. Think of your children as I know you do. Father to father.”
Cuimits twisted as he walked. He shook his head, about to respond with his pride. Then, however, he let out a deep sigh, ripped the necklace and its chain free of his neck, and tossed it into the shifting sands. This, then, was the creed. This was what he had to do and it would likely end in an even more horrible death for him and his loved ones, but perhaps - just maybe - it gave them a chance.
Meanwhile, as things had seemingly cooled off, Zarina walked over to the sniffling Classa, extended a careful arm toward the poor girl and levelled with her. “You saved me, you know that?” she flashed a smile at the distressed child. “I'm sorry you had to see more of that ugliness. I really didn't want to bring anyone else into this.”
Pauppaup breathed a sigh of relief, not that he needed to breathe since he was dead. Yansee grinned as well, not bothering to utter another word letting Cuimits leave with his back turned to all that had happened there. She shuffled past the dragon who gave her a weary look and scooped the pendant off the static sands. She admired the radiance it had and quickly tucked it in her pocket. Her mission met it's parameters and now she could go on about her life once more. That was unless the dragonknight had any thing to say about it. "Eym leevin now, tha awlrite with yu? Deez liips aur seeled! Unless yu got sumtin fo me?"
Classa sniffed and tried to make a brave face. She wrung her hands awkwardly, looking down at her hooves before looking back up. Then, the kid shrugged. “I know you didn't it's just...” She trailed off and sniffed again - a big one where you could really hear the boogers, where you could feel them. “I kind of wish none of it had happened, you know?” She glanced over at Zarina guiltily before hastily amending her statement. “I'm glad you're okay, though.” She twisted to regard to Tennaxi, who was striding up behind. “And you too.” She turned on her rears and darted over, enfolding the cazenax in a hug. “I thought you were dead, you know. You looked dead!”
Tennaxi laughed faintly. “Felt like it too.” She scratched at the back of her head and cast about, finding Classa to translate, and that seemed to perk the kid up. “Looks like I owe you again,” she addressed Zarina through her interpreter. “Thanks for healing me.” She shook her head. “Someday, I swear I won't be such a snarling fox.”
Zarina really wanted to hold the kid, but her crispy and bloodied armour wasn't prime hug material. Instead, she ruffled Classa's hair. The helm came off, letting Zazzy's sweaty hair breath out of the confinement they were frequently trapped into the last few days. Then Tennaxi and her demon legs was addressed, and her unlikely survival underlined by the centaur. “Heh, it was nothing, but-” at first she confused protecting with healing. But it eventually hit her. “I didn't heal you, though. They were suppressing me hard trying to shoot you down.” the Virangish knight confessed.
Attention fell onto Keelee. “Wait.” if Zarina's call wasn't answered, the dragon wasn't exactly keen on letting prey get away so easily. The only reason the massive reptile didn't pounce was the silent gesturing of her mother. “What is your deal? You try to mog me with these people, and then try to talk, and then help them again, and then help me, only to try and kill your associate here. With strange company, no less.” A glare was shot at the 'fresh' zombie. She opened her arms in an exaggerated shrug, head shaking in clear confusion. “What in Dami's righteous judgement drives you here?”
”Hey! I’m no strange company I’m her father I’ll have you know” her father remarked, ”The absolute nerve of some people. No manners at all.” Yansee moved her fingers, shutting her father’s mouth for just a moment. A bunch of muffled groans could be heard behind inaudible speech. ”Eye wus sen on a mishon to cleen up. Mayke me puppets with potenshell four a zombie dragoon. Et wus yu or em, eym not a killa, so eye elped yu bof” trying her best to enunciate.
The man spoke eloquently enough. Unsettling as he was, his ability to talk was value. Then came the living fish-girl's answer, which prompted a scowl from the dragonknight. “You wanted to kill and use my girl, huh?” she took a step forward to close the gap between the Eeaiko and herself. “You're not quite well up there, aren't you?” Yansee's personal bubble was invaded, although they weren't at nose-touching distance quite yet. “Hmph. I guess I owe you for helping Tennaxi, at least. So tell me about this Wesca person.” she crossed her arms under her chest and sighed. “And then you'll show me where to find that person.”
”Up wear?” pointing to her skull, ”Up ere? Eye think tha deepends on oo yu ask” laughing a bit, but covering her mouth as the dragonknight drew very close to her. Yu smell noice, Eye dun talk to er much. She gots erself ay fancee hoosban. Lives en a fancee haus. Danegerus, powaaful, rich. Wha eye get ef eye show yu? Sides my lyfe?”
Zarina stood her ground, but showed visible discomfort when sniffed. She was holding back on just flicking the girl. “One of these elites the others were talking about.” she muttered. Her long, metal claws protruding out of her massive gauntlet drummed over the platinum scales on her bicep. “Your life, and I don't burn him.” she pointed right at the daddy with her chin. “If shit hits the fan, you can take the rich people garbage they have laying around.” then, she paused, having learned something from today's mess. “Not before I find my friends, though. So, we'll just be scouting. I assume these rich cunts are in An Zenui?”
There was little negotiation room and a very slim chance the hulking monster clad in armor would allow Yansee to leave without suffering great loss. Yansee sighed and let out an annoyed growl after stomping her feet a bit. ”Aur all off yu this relentlyss?”. Her pauppaup winced in fear and covered his face and some of his body, but mostly his face. Fyn fyn jus gib me an pauppaup a ryd ther an we show yu. Let me tawk tu er firs, so eye can get me reward an gib er this pendan for im or yu want to see im die?” Aye An Zenui be the wun.”
“Only the competent ones.” chuckled a somewhat amused Zarina. “You report everything you saw, barring Cuimits being alive or details about me. As far as they know, the village was attacked and they pushed back the invader.” the pointer claw tapped rapidly over the metal plate. There was something she was still trying to figure out. “Hmmm. I'll compensate you for gathering information on their home, entourage, and all things relevant if I'd want a face-to-face. Do you accept?” the big, bad set of claws extended itself for a shake - an arm that seemingly morphed from a big ass shield to this thing. Was there really a human hand in there somewhere? “Oh, and the toll for riding the dragon is helping me heal its wounds.”
The dead-eyed dragon did not cease in its intense glaring of the Eeaiko duo that had gotten far too close to the mistress. Still, it knew its place and the accumulated wounds on its body encouraged temperance from the beast.
Yansee stood there stoic and silent weighing everything that was said to her by Zarina. She more or less knew that the topic of Zarina and the escape of Cuimits was to be redacted from her summary of the events that transpired in the village. Finally, the topic of compensation was brought up, Yansee thought her gluttony would have to be satiated by the mere pendant. A coy smile began to etch itself on her face, as if she was pulling strings on the skin of her cheeks. ”Deel” full of glee and effervescence. The girl threw her hand into the amalgamation of what was assumed to be a hand and swiftly shook on it. She peered to the side of Zarina and saw the temperamental dragon hesitant to be touched, ”Sally ouver thair? Shore”.
There wasn't much shaking going on with that hunk of metal. Yansee just clenched it and the deal was done. Now, what the compensation was going to be remained purposefully vague. So vague it was never mentioned! Zarina nodded. “Yeah, that's her. Just ... Do it from afar. If you wanna ride her afterwards-” a long, silver claw pointed at the questionably living second eeaiko. “He doesn't come on. He can go on foot with Classa.” she solemnly decided before making her way to her dragon.
Ever the dominant alpha, Alqasas growled even to her mistress. And once Zarina was close enough, she unleashed a rude roar with all its might to challenge her mother. “Hey.” she retorted dryly. Tensions were in the air with an animal that could probably bite the teen's torso with little effort. And yet, it took a hard flick to the snout from the gauntlet, prompting it to recoil and growl louder. No more roars. And soon enough, the 'all bark' facet became clear when Zazzy patted the injured animal's scales. “You're a big, grumpy girl, eh? Grr grr.” she cackled. “Mom loves you too.” the healing could commence.
with the horse girl. He understood the reluctance of having someone of his nature on the dragon, so he silently shook his hand and waved off his daughter. Yansee nodded and furrowed her brows in strength before turning back to the dragon being coddled by this mysterious woman. She stretched her hands out as they began to glow and soothe the damage inflicted by the cazenax. With her fully healed, she followed promptly to the back of the dragon and hauled herself on.
The dragon's scales sprouted out of the rapidly healing wounds. It was now flight-ready. Once Zarina had straddled the beast, it seemed more docile to the notion of being ridden by a stranger. Still, the Eeaiko had to be careful.
The initial destionation was An Zenui, where most of her friends had gone and Wesca was said to live. But the rider began to falter soon after all the intensity had died down. And eventually she lay asleep on her dragon. It had been over sixty hours since she had any rest.
Distressed, the dragon changed its course for a familiar destination: The Farmstead.
Day 1 ◈ Time: Night ◈ Weather: Light Rain, Cloudy ◈Location: The Infirmary ◈ Participants: Matron Fooma Sajid @Aeolian, Daemons (Iolana, Kannon, Sara) @Aeolian
Everything had been happening so fast, Primose had forgotten how to breathe. White and black splotches began to coalesce in her vision, a reaction to the very real possibility of fainting. She would be no use to anyone, especially Fooma Sajid, whose words were being to sounds muffled by the warring of drums generated from her rapid pulse rate. It wasn’t until the little one tugged at her pant leg that the cottage witch gasped in a buffet of air. Firing oxygen back into her brain, ears, and eyes. The command to apply pressure was a voice not of her own, her body had just been acting on adrenaline and relied on instinct over her brain. Her body and brain eventually paired once more, and she was in full control of her facilities and proceeded to shadow and mirror Sajid in his effort to treat the wounded. Slivers of memories the two shared in the infirmary shot through her mind in this moment. Besides the library, the infirmary was where she had spent most of her time. Herbalism and botany came naturally to her, of course seeing as she grew up with native flora and had perverse knowledge of those that grew in her realm, not yet familiar with those of this island.
He paid no attention to her at first, simply because she was of no use and just sat to eat her figs between classes. His infirmary was no study hall, which quickly became evident to her. Instead of leaving, however, an extension to help rather than exist had been given to her. From then, she grew on him like a vine wrapping itself around the heavy and robust base of a tree all the way to the top where the leaves sat. Despite her student status she helped quite often in his efforts and boasted a knowledge that commanded respect even from Sajid. Though he encouraged her to be a nurse or physician she would simply have to stuff the role into her umbrella of titles she would one day hold. Yet, that encouragement he gave her then, found its use in the situation they had now. Whipping back to the present moment, all she could smell was the heavy scent of iron and salt from the sweat dripping down from everyone present. An infected larva bite was nasty work, but treatable, “At your service Matron” she looked in her satchel and fiddled through tubes and compressed bags, “I have a few, healing salves, coagulants, elixirs to reduce fever and pain, raw herbs and mushrooms.”
The little one looked up when she muttered mushrooms, reaching up and breaking a fruiting body off one of the stalks bulging out of its head. She smiled in what was a tense time and accepted his offer. “I guess that’s why you leave me in charge of inventory master” there was bite to her bark that was reserved for faculty she had a relationship with and those of the wild.
The girl was just about to speak when Sajid’s voice cut through her attempt and delivered the news rather directly. It was most often the best method while keeping the air of hospitable bedside manner for those involved. Primrose tended to be a bit colder and more sardonic when delivering prognoses that often-sent patients into tears. Swallowing her voice in embarrassment, her hands found the straps of her work apron and gripped the fabric until she was clear headed once more. Sajid’s words served as a guide to her idle hands. “Huh?-Yes! Of course,” she ran over to the mostly nude girl and retrieved a bottle with a spout at the end. Squeezing the sides of the container shot out water to clean the area of blood and infection, just enough they could begin working.
Moving to one of the many port cities that inhabited the coast of Xochiyeteteo didn’t do much in the way for her research as she had originally anticipated. Who would have known there wasn’t much in the way of crime that led to the disposal of corpses in the waters to sink to the bottom of the sea. It would have been easy work with both parties profiting, but alas, the only thing Yansee came up was with rogue coins and the occasional hat or random article of clothing falling into the darkness, beckoning for a body to plunge. The port cities were rather dead when there were no ships in port, which led her to venture around tediously looking for work or anything that would point her in the direction of disposable income or bodies. Eventually, the complacency plaguing her research had vexed her to the point she needed to venture further into the country to find a capital city or one up to par in terms of magnanimity. While she didn’t enjoy the idea of being landlocked instead of by the familiar shores, she knew she what took precedence. Asking around had led her to the same lingering answer, An Zenui.
The decadence displayed upon mere moments of entering the city walls had blinded the young Eeaiko, the seas had no such structure. Water was free and constantly flowing, changing, but this city had been weathered and eroded for years, yet still stood strong, sandwiched between a canyon. The exchange of water for sand was something else that kept her throat and pores parched. Something she would have to remedy the more familiar she became with her living situation. The exaggerated reactions, though warranted, she gave to seeing sirrahi and cazenax were returned to her, she was as foreign to them as they were to her. She was a real fish out of water, despite hating the common misconception of her people’s genealogy. Her broken language served her well enough to start off with tiny odd jobs that put her in shelter and kept her fed. Persistent and tenacious as always, Yansee found herself working in the primitive version of hospice within the city walls. The easiest way to cultivate corpses without having to wait too long. Though, in a city such as An Zenui, her actions, despite discrete, would not go unnoticed.
Her formidable skill in body disposal had earned her a proposition from an organization higher than she could have imagined. She would become of service to someone she only knew as Wesca. From then on, she had saw personally to disposals without question or hesitance. There was monetary compensation, but Yansee only cared for the dead. She pilfered, zombified, and piloted many a body with minor demon in hopes of a perfect homunculus.
Current day
Rays of light that once bled through the curtains in her room, had sunk back and replaced with the dim luminance of the stars above. Yansee clenched the worn leather of a journal she had pressed to her chest, she ruminated in her head if she had overlooked anything with her 891st failed experiment. To no avail in articulating any fault she stuffed the pencil from her mouth into the spine of her journal before closing it and turning out the candles that lined the walls around the head of her bed. Just as she got comfortable a knock could be heard at her door. An utterance of agitation left he lungs, smothering her face with a pillow in hopes it would kill her. Against her better judgement the semi-aquatic being rose to meet her guest. A sirrahi greeted the young necromancer, noting she was to be summoned to Wesca’s residence.
Yansee acquiesced, ignoring the need to change into something more fitting. Her readiness to meet Wesca was unanticipated by the guards, holding her at the gates until she was ready. A few moments passed and as if telepathically told, did the gates open and was she allowed to pass. Yansee found herself in the couple’s garden, a place she had grown familiar with, only to see Wesca walking over while dusting her hands off. An oddity for someone of her status to have dust on her hands, but Yansee overlooked the thought. Making herself at home she saw the prospect of imbibing some quality beverage perched near the overlook. Just as the cool metal reached her lips, she caught vision of someone not as lucky at the bottom of the cliff. Wesca dusting off her hands, the sudden sheen of cleanliness on the overlook, and the fullness of the other cups led her to the conclusion Wesca had poisoned whoever made the ill decision to cross her.
Clearing her throat, she set the cup back down and found a seat across from Wesca. A job, what she had expected. Unlike the ones she had been given before. There would be a litany of corpses, only after she killed them, to her dismay, for her to experiment on to her heart’s desire. Honestly, she could have stopped there, and it would have been enough, but the prospect of more coins than she knew what to do with and anticipation of converting a dragon into one of her undead puppets had sent her heart a flutter as long as she played along with murdering those aforementioned. Agreeing to the contract, Yansee went to gather her things and set out before first light to Netsazai.
Arriving there first had given her vantage points and time to set up for her upcoming battle. It didn’t take long for the presence of a dragon to be felt arriving. As Wesca predicted the woman known as Zarina had Cuimits in tow. Yansee had closed the distance to a comfortable amount calling over to her bounty, “Oi, sou yoo aur tee wun eyem lookeen faur”. A small bubble of corpses, including her fathers, encircled her, her fathers leaning in to offer his excellence. “That dragon is going to turn us into kebobs you know?”
Primrose held the invitation to the ball in her hands. The paper felt coarse and harsh in her hands as if it were aiming to escape her loosened grasp as fast as it could. Foreign, was the best word to describe the feeling it elicited out of her. She read the words, the prose, the date, and time in which everyone was expected to attend. With such a deep run into her time at the Academy, attendance at an event as grand as this one seemed profoundly useless. She had forged all the connections she was going to make, seeing that there was one year left before she could put the academy behind her and return to her cottage, tending to the matters of magic that her villagers required from her. The wind whipped the paper through her hands, creating the cacophonous noise of rippling paper. Tall grass whipped at her bare feet in a more soothing matter than one of pain and discomfort. Her toes curled and pressed hard soil under the wrinkling skin of her toes.
The russet of leaves that made her cloak ruffled with the wind in a similar manner to the strands of messy hair that hung from her mask. She looked up at the sky, a deep blue devoid of any stars yet which made the sun feel lonely to her. The same kind of loneliness that would have plagued her if she did not burn as bright on her own just as the sun did. A sigh escaped her lungs, the invitation slipping through her now spread fingers. Finally, freedom. Like a magical carpet, paper flicked and flipped on the currents of the air stream. Primrose wasn’t one to litter, her toe tapped on the ground, causing a spike of briars to erupt from the ground below. The width dwindled towards the base, making it more spike like, enough to pierce the paper in midair, sapping any life and movement from it. With a snap of her fingers the briars eviscerated the paper into particles she quickly set aflame before touching down to her earth.
“Not this time Prim, maybe next time”
Primrose dropped to her knees and traced her finger through the dirt drawing up what she would have worn to the masquerade had she gone. There was a sort of comfort in imagining that reality seemed to lack. A mushroom stood watch, began to tremble, then exploded out of the ground with a sapling underneath it. A golem of soil less than half a foot tall found life through Prim’s magic. Eyelids found themselves opening with a jovial smile to accompany it. The tiny molar shaped golem made its way over to prim and nestled against her leg like a stray cat looking for food.
“Why hello there little one” a warm boisterous laughter escaping her throat, “Aren’t you a cute one? Come to accompany me today?” The golem nodded, tugging at her leaves. “Okay then, let’s have our own masquerade ball then. Care to dance? Oh, but first, let’s do something about this” her finger wagging around the nakedness of its face. Petals flew loose from a few flowers around and formed a mask around the golem’s articulated face. “That’s better” another chitter of laughter before picking up the golem into her arms and beginning to waltz with her new found friend pressed to her chest.
Swinging the little one around in an entangled circle, there was nothing that could interrupt their moment. Well, almost nothing. The soft patter of rain trickled on herbaceous leaves, causing streams to run down the venation of the plants. The soft patter began to turn into a march as more and more droplets of precipitation landed around them. The little golem grew heavy and dense from absorbing so much rainwater. More mushrooms sprouted from its head, showcasing just how fast it could grow with the guidance of Vitesse.
“Quick little one, let’s get to the conservatory before it comes down.”
Once in the conservatory, Prim did the best she could by pulling out any extraneous water that lay dormant in the little golem. The two of them looked out of the fishbowl window into the clouded skies that threatened to suffocate the sun that once shone. Quite suddenly, almost akin to shooting stars, silhouettes of clouded figures came crashing out of the skies. Prim removed her mask and affixed her gaze, causing her to squint, to the emerging figures. From the opposite side was some mystical force aiming to greet them before they could enter the bubble of the Academy. ”Is that...is that Ms. Grumble?” Prim asked in her haze of confusion. Ms. Grumble was immediately hostile, provoking a massive bolt of lighting above her. She couldn’t make out too many features on the strangers, but she knew they were hurt. Crimson red running down the side of one made it blatantly obvious, her eyes jumped and skittered around the serendipitous meeting or battler rather.
Their speech was mostly inaudible, but the body language showed no sign of antagonism from the unwelcomed guests. Ms. Grumble recognized this herself and disengaged enough to warrant some common ground. A spasm of fear quaked through her body, causing countless bumps of skin to rise on end on her skin. “Mother of Eusebia” she feebly coughed up at the appearance of Ni-Seraphi hot on the heels of the strangers. Discordant songs chimed in her ears, piercing the layers of brick and glass that separated her from the outside. The first time hearing a song so deleterious she could never have dreamed of having paired with such angelic beings, perhaps a frequency not meant for human ears. Her eyes traced the trajectory of the strangers, the infirmary was her best bet of where they were headed. The halls were empty, and the mass of students were stuck in the ballroom. They needed care immediately and who better to dispense it than the master herbalist herself?
Primrose turned to her little one with a look of determination that was parroted in the tiny golem, filled with sheer determination. Both nodded in solidarity and took off running towards the infirmary. Uneasy about leaving Grumble behind, her nerves settled a bit with the announcement from Grune about the deployment of ESP. The sudden explosion that cut off the rest of the message shook Primrose to the core, knocking her off balance before she stumbled into her feet like a newborn giraffe, tucking her tiny golem into her arms. “May the academy be in safe hands” she whispered in soft prayer. Primrose arrived to the infirmary to be greeted by the four strangers that had shed their obscured figures due to the light of the room. A man, a woman, a figure with an unusual bug-like head, and an adolescent bleeding from their side stood before her. Clenching her fist her responsibilities kicked in, “Get those clothes off and apply pressure! I need some space to work”, idle hands turned dexterous, thumbing through her bottomless pockets.
The voices had pierced her ears whilst her eyes were glowing, and the sentiment of pain being lost in the sea of warmth and euphoria that kissed the pain and aches away in her body. Her breathing was soft and tempered, similar to how one feels when entering the licks of a lake current that has a tender bite from the cold retained from the winter passed. Her lips pursued and simply mouthed the word ”wow” lacking any kind of audible reply to go with it. Eventually the lavish pools of serene white light emptied from the bottom pools of her eyes and the light faded back to black. The jarring voice of Lucas with the imprint of sarcasm brought Ivy back to the unscrupulous setting she ushered in, unbeknownst to her at least. “Hmm?” her head slightly floating and twitching back towards Hanna who still had found peace on what was left of stable flooring. “My eyes? Wasn’t that you?”
“I…I..I don’t know” trying to make sense of the last ten minutes, “I was scrolling through countless blank pages from the book and then there was just one word on one page, centered, heavily emboldened and in a language I’ve never seen before. But..but, it turned into English. It just said ”Oblivion”” another deep throb echoed through her chest and her hurt murmured for a rhythmic interruption. An energy was welling up inside her that felt like nothing before, ice in her veins that was waiting to be let out. The onslaught of questions for clarity by her closest friend were starting to gnaw at her patience. Ivy was always the one to have answers, yet her scantron fell empty with nothing but flummox. “I don’t know Hanna!” she spat with newfound bass in her voice, throwing her hands to her forehead, fingers burrowing into her natural curls. Fingers clasped together bringing them shut on her hair. Ivy began pacing back and forth, “Listen, I’ll figure all this out soon enough. For now, on your feet soldier we are leaving.”
“An ambulance? I know you have insurance and the money for an ambulance, but the others? Not so much. Besides how do you explain all of this” her hands waved around the cataclysmic football field, reminiscent of jazz hands. Ivy clasped the hand reaching out for her, followed by supporting the weight, if you could call it that, of the maimed body that was Hanna. The kiss provided a comfort that reminded her of the healing waves supplied to her just before. “Right, let’s go Anni” Ivy took one step forward before stopping, “Hold on” Ivy shifted her arm from the small of Hanna’s back to the front of her stomach, bending down and springing up to haul her over her shoulder. She couldn’t explain it but she felt sturdier, stronger, sinewy. “Much better, give me your hand Anni” lending support to the last of them before heading out of the field into the parking lot.
Ivy let go of Anni’s hand once cleared of immediate danger, fishing in her jacket pocket for the keys. The familiar jingle echoed in her pocket, sending a flicker of head beams and series of beeps out the beamer.
“Everyone get in and let’s get the fuck out of her”
Ivy wasted no time in hoisting Hanna into the front seat, always the passenger princess but never the passenger. Seatbelts clicked, gear shifted to drive, and foot on the accelerator, Ivy peeled out. To where? She didn’t know, they couldn’t show back up to PJs like this. “Where are we going? Oh! Do try not to bleed on the upholstery. There’s a cleaning fee for all of that so let’s avoid Marvin from Pulp Fiction”
A layer of fog glazed over her eyes making things hard to make out, a tug at her arm was met by the burn of prickly rope fastened tight around her limbs. The immediate sense of bondage had snapped her out of her preliminary haze, unluckily for them, her trappers didn’t realize a Nikanese shadow’s first lesson was escape. Gracefully regaling her composure, she massaged her wrist and cracking her stiff neck. The blood flowed seamlessly in her body, the magic in her body pushing at her skin like an overzealous stream looking to crack through a stifling dam. Her senses were so crisp she could feel the forces swell in her, yet the sensitivity made her too vulnerable to the heat and noise shuffling around her.
There was no reprieve upon opening the doors to reveal a swarm of wildbloods. Ymiico looked at the moon and smiled, centering her internal magics. She wasted no time attacking the creatures that blocked her path. Quick on the attack, a series of throwing stars found themselves being hurled out, sinking into the flesh of the first wild blood as it howled in pain. It did damage to the now bloody beast, but it still stood. Her hands glowed under the moonlight releasing a massive burst of fire that she was seemingly exhaling from her mouth. The fireball was hints of flickering red and orange, scorching and charring the air and debris around them before engulfing the wild blood whole. Despite managing to take down one, the other wasted no time to leap onto the yasoi while she battled.
Ymiico was quick, even quicker with the many moons at her back, she was achieving impossible range with her acrobatics, making narrow dodges seem like child’s play to anyone watching. Twisting and contorting her body she slithered next to one of the wild bloods, bathing her hand in kinetic magics, and thrusting forward in a lighting fast job that fractured and splintered the bones within their body. The body crumpled like a stack of leaves, leaving her an opportunity to extinguish the flames from this once villagers eyes. Ymiico retrieved small vials of liquid she charged with chemical energies to turn corrosive, into the mouth of the wild blood and watched as they melted the inside, out. With just one left and no time to spare dawdling, Ymiico fled past the last remaining wild blood with not much chase from the sole survivor.
Surveying her options, Ymiico ducked into an alley hoping to lose the attention of the wild bloods around her. Much to her dismay, two child-wolves greeted her with tenacity. Normally Ymiico would have hesitated to engage with adolescents, much less children in any sort of violence, but these souls had been already lost and were vastly more dangerous and dexterous than those waiting for outside the alley. One child lept at the Nikanese ninja without much thought, a small static schism occurred, teleporting Ymiico a few feet behind the leaping child wolf. Her twin blades allowed her to venture temporally forward a few seconds. The child wolf confused would feel no more confusion after their head saw the rest of their body detached adjacent to them.
The second child wolf now humbled was much harder to pin down and destroy. Between a flurry of attacks and gymnastic prowess only a child could achieve, they danced around each other like wild shadows. Ymiico tried and tried to stun the child, feeling the presence of more wolves on her heels, but could not seem to connect any significant blows. Annoyed she finally separated into clones, cloaking her own movements from the small child. Eventually their game of tag ended with Ymiico bouncing the child’s skull off the brick faced wall she refused to get off of. She pushes deeper into town, she nears an exit, however ... A massive beast of a man utilizing magnetic magic to weld various tools together to make a hammer takes notice of her. It howls a bloodcurdling scream. With the horde behind it, there's no way she can take it on in a fair fight. She needs to reposition.
With little to no time she settles on the bathhouse, The bathhouse is nothing like what she'd find in Nikan. There are no hot springs or gender secluded rooms. No, it is a relic of a more prosperous time of Mandelein but the practice never truly died out. Theraputic mud baths were common in the swampy regions to treat certain ailments, and business continued despite rough times. Inside, she is greeted by a beast covered in flames and filled with rage, and a wolf wielding a sickle. The latter shot her a malicious gaze that lacked the feral rage most others did. Ymiico grimaces and clutches her hands even tighter than before, the outcome of this was looking bleak. No time to wait, she immediately engaged, using the mud in the boathouse as a medium. Pumping kinetic and chemical magics into the mud she created spikes of semi hardened mud to both penetrate and extinguish the fiery wolf.
The attack succeeded until the smarter of the two intervened and took the brunt of the damage onto himself. The lightning crackled and made quick work of the earth as it was its direct counter. The roof behind her collapses. The hammer has cleaned obliterated the front of the bathhouse. Leonhardt was close. Despite being amped up on her moons, Ymiico did not have the time to face these two menaces with the hammer being so close to her. The lightning wolf was proving to be too much for her as well as the fiery one who was able to attack directly after she attacked. Causing her to suffer some cleaving damage between the two of them. Thinking quick, she retrieved small metallic beads from her pouch and covered her ears and eyes before throwing them down. They exploded into a flash bang, leaving the hypersensitive wolves to be stunned by the flash.
Ymiico bolts for the back door, the flashbang catching the wolves off-guard. Before they can come to, an indiscriminate hammer swings their way and sends both flying. The constable was still on her tail. This wasn't good, one exit was a no-go, so North it was. Having done her time on the ground she decided a change of scenery might benefit her. Ymiico took to the high ground, where many other wildbloods have started to roam. As she dashes toward the centre of town, she is intercepted by a group of four normal wolves. The big wolf starts to destroy the foundations of the buildings behind her. With little to no effort she swirled flame into her hand via the spinning of a shuriken in her palm and obliterated one of the wolves in front of her on the roof.
The flame tool swung its continuous momentum into a second wolf but did not have enough energy to topple the second beast. With her wits about her and her temporal blades she reacted to each of the onslaughts of attacks casted against her. Managing to survive unscathed she was faced with yet another wolf jumping into the fray. Again, she attacks throwing every ninja art she could think of in her repertoire to push through to the other side. The new wolf and the old wolf crumble after being disemboweled. There was no time to think, she remained vigilant on pressing on. Ymiico manages to find an opening and ninja-sprints her way to freedom. Before her is the Plaza. The fountain isn't working, and it is desolate, barring the many beasts gawking at her in the darkness. A twisted and high-pitched echo hits her and all the beasts, causing them to screech.
The massive Leonhardt suddenly lands onto said fountain, utterly destroying it. He stares down the powered up Yasoi and challenges her with a mighty roar. Bloodied and battered the Yasoi roars back in the face of Leonhardt. Ymiico flies into combat landing a normally devastating blow to his head. His body is unmoved, he adjusts his head slightly. Stringing attacks between defense was her best bet, but she quickly exhausted how much magic and dodging she could do, leaving her to cleanse in the fight to reset her abilities. His hammer lights up the sky and begins to charge, ymiico didn’t know what, but would not wait around to see. Compiling her strength she breaks the threshold, forcing him to bring down his hammer. Unsafe to the next few blows he would take despite not being able to use his hammer.
Again, he lifted the hammer and again she defies him, the previous rotation of attacks and dodges perpetuate once more before the hammer goes up thrice. Knowing she would do no damage to this beast she runs past and stuns him as she did the two wolves in the bathhouse. Ymiico begins to see a clear passage leading further North. Less wolf density. It leads somewhere familiar. The castle! Feeling light headed and blood drying on her face and hands she pauses to use her binding magic to heal herself enough to her full health. With a deep breathe she focuses herself once more before getting to the finale.
The town exit was right before her. Many still pursued her, but they had become background noise to the powerhouse that was Ymiico. The fodder was no threat, and the hammer beast had taken interest in the Church where her peers fought for survival. Perhaps she would have wished to help, but that place was SWARMING with these monsters. She had no chance to join them.
As she walked the main path leading to the castle with most of her stalkers backing off for whatever reason, she'd suddenly felt literal tension in the air. And then, once again, a high-pitched sound.
The unpleasant sound wasn't as strong, and she could feel by its intensity that it was coming from the Castle. What was strong, however, was the Thunder Wolf that crashed right in her path in a merciless bolt of lightning, steaming with excess heat. It twitched and its fur constantly hovered and erected in unnatural ways. It stared down Ymiico, keen on mauling her just like its brethren had tried to do.
Ymiico unsure of how to insulate this electric demon, relied on pure strength knowing that fire and anything else she had in her arsenal would do little in the way of damage. Her first attack was a wallop of one that was subsequently met with a zap that pinched her nerves and made her system scream. Attack after attack she landed or missed did not matter, she was continually punished for touching the wild bloods flesh with a shock of electricity. The wolf itself had a plan of its own, the polarity of the lightning he was attacking her with felt different. She could only tell due to how heightened her sense were, otherwise she would not be privy to his strategy. Ymiico had been hit with a positive and negative charge and had taken some heavy damage.
Not wanting to be victim to another round of charges she coalesced the remaining power she had into a massive ball of kinetic magic in her hand that swirled violently in her hand in a perfectly contained orb. Running towards the wolf and the wolf towards her, she thrusted the enigmatic sphere into the chest of the wolf which exploded into double the size it had been, engulfing the wolf and exploding outwards toward the castle. The wolf had been reduced to dust and the landscape behind it completely tarnished.
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[sub][h1][color=222222]▅[/color][color=1c1c1c][b] SALSA VERDE
[color=222222]▅[/color][color=050505]SALSA VERDE[/color][/b][/color][/h1][/sub]
[sup][color=222222]▅▅▅▅[/color][color=0d0d0d][b]austin[/b] | ♏︎ | he/him | 28 | vegan[/color][/sup]
[indent][indent][indent][sub][color=gray]Hi, I’m Salsa Verde, arguably the best salsa and formally known as the writer, Syn. I’m a Wildlife Biologist traveling the country looking to work with the coolest: herps, mammals, birds, and invertebrates I can get my hands on. I also like plants, trees, and fungi specifically. I’ve been writing for about 13 years now and recently decided to get back into it. I enjoy anything from casual to high roleplay, 1x1, and arena. My main genres tend to be anime, SOL, and superhero but I’m really down to participate in anything. And yeah I like all that weeb shit.[/color][/sub][/indent][/indent][/indent][/cell][cell][right][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/969433228094103562/austin_bio.png[/img]
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<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><font color="#222222">-</font><br><div class="bb-indent"><div class="bb-indent"><div class="bb-indent"><div class="bb-indent"><div class="bb-indent"><div class="table-responsive"><table class="bb-table table"><thead class="bb-thead"><tr class="bb-tr"><font color="#222222"><sup><div class="bb-h3"><span class="bb-b">▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅<div class="bb-right">▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅</div></span></div></sup></font></tr></thead><tr class=" bb-tr"><td class=" bb-td"><font color="#222222">▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅</font><br><br><font color="#222222">-</font><br><font color="#222222">-</font><br><sub><div class="bb-h1"><font color="#222222">▅</font><font color="#1c1c1c"><span class="bb-b"> SALSA VERDE<br><font color="#222222">▅</font><font color="#050505">SALSA VERDE</font></span></font></div></sub><br><sup><font color="#222222">▅▅▅▅</font><font color="#0d0d0d"><span class="bb-b">austin</span> | ♏︎ | he/him | 28 | vegan</font></sup><br><br><div class="bb-indent"><div class="bb-indent"><div class="bb-indent"><sub><font color="gray">Hi, I’m Salsa Verde, arguably the best salsa and formally known as the writer, Syn. I’m a Wildlife Biologist traveling the country looking to work with the coolest: herps, mammals, birds, and invertebrates I can get my hands on. I also like plants, trees, and fungi specifically. I’ve been writing for about 13 years now and recently decided to get back into it. I enjoy anything from casual to high roleplay, 1x1, and arena. My main genres tend to be anime, SOL, and superhero but I’m really down to participate in anything. And yeah I like all that weeb shit.</font></sub></div></div></div></td><td class=" bb-td"><div class="bb-right"><img src="https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/969433228094103562/austin_bio.png" /><br><font color="#222222">▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅</font></div></td></tr></table></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>