Eleven

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

vii. seraph

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Seven was in a chipper mood today.

She was allowed to wear a pretty dress, one that was pale pink and had flowers embroidered on the hem, with matching shoes and headband. This time, she didn't mind that she had to wear a boring old cross around her neck because she could pretend she was wearing the pretty diamond necklace her friend was wearing yesterday. Seven would have taken it, but she had been clumsy and got blood all over it. She didn't like it very much after that.

More and more people started filling up the beautiful ballroom they were in, and by then, Seven was delighted. There was nothing she liked more than being surrounded by lots and lots of people who were all friends in the making. She had to make sure she was controlling her light, though. Sometimes, when she gets excited, she forgets to turn it off and it attracts people without her meaning to. Other times, she accidentally spreads her excitement to everyone else, and that gets her in trouble too.

But today, Emmanuel said she must only sit and watch and she wants to be a good girl for him. Emmanuel was one of her favorites, you see. She's not allowed to make him like her, but she knows he does anyway.

Seven paid little attention when the actual meeting began, mind wandering as it tended to when boring people talked. There was a moment that did pique her interest though, when several men were brought out to what she imagined was the stage. Seven sat up and tried not too giggle as she stared at their state of nakedness, and was particularly interested with the man whose torso was whiter than the rest of his body. It amused her how it looked like he had an invisible shirt on.

Sometime during the meeting, Emmanuel got up and grabbed her wrist to lead her somewhere. Seven readjusted it so she was properly holding his hand; she liked it better like that. Before she could wonder where they were going, a familiar tug at her heartstrings let her know. It was a feeling she'd get only when her precious brothers and sisters were around. Breathlessly, she looked around, and right there like she expected, as dapper and handsome as always, was her brother.

This is why Emmanuel was the best. He knew she missed her siblings, so he brought her to see one. They got seated next to them, and oh, Seven had so many stories she wanted to tell Ten. About all the friends she's made, the ones that have become a part of her and thus her best friends forever, and all the new places she's seen.

Ten's friend was mean though, not like her Emm, and he wouldn't let Ten talk. Not that Ten ever listened to mean people! Seven felt herself beaming, proud that her brother would risk the wrath of his friend for her. She knew what happened when you disobeyed, however, and she wanted to make sure that her brother would not get punished.

Before responding to Ten, Seven looked to Emmanuel, through lashes and big puppy dog eyes, asking for permission—for both herself and Ten.

If Ten's mean friend still wouldn't let them talk after that, then she'd just have to do something about it.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

@TruthHurts22lol, yeah, I saw that part and was like, okay, I can build something off this.

^{@ERode Damn, you figured out what I was really after.}

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

#7, seraph

#7

S E R A P H

• P h y s i c a l A g e •

14

• G e n d e r I d e n t i f i e r •

Female

• D e s i g n a t e d L o c a t i o n •

Italy

---

• P s y c h P r o f i l e •
+ Amiable + Affectionate + Sweet
- Absent-mided - Obsessive - Clingy
* Be loved * Be surrounded by friends * Forge unbreakable bonds

---

• U n i q u e T r a i t s & A b i l i t i e s •
Friar's Lantern | At first glance, #7's Miracle seems exactly that, a miracle. But too much of a good thing can be bad, and she is proof. She is able to radiate a bright and warm light that has an almost instantaneous soothing effect on anyone within her vicinity. In fact, this feeling is so euphoric to some that those that have been exposed to it constantly seek it afterward. Like a scratch they cannot itch, they become consumed by their desire to feel the effects of her light. There are many who have dropped everything -- their familes, jobs, friends -- to experience this euphoria again. She loves them most, and they become a part of her eventually.

Beyond her light, she can manipulate the emotions of people around her -- although most of the time, she only alters their personal attachment toward her. She wants nothing more than for everyone to love her; if they don't, then she will make them.

___________________________
A p p e t i t e L v l :: 3

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

@TruthHurts22 Don't want to impose, but if you don't mind, then I'd appreciate the swap! haha, just for the sake of my stupid theme-obsession.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

@Haruharara Was hoping to nab the #7 spot if accepted (lol, ran with the "little angel" tidbit), but hopefull this still works

seraph

#10

S E R A P H

• P h y s i c a l A g e •

14

• G e n d e r I d e n t i f i e r •

Female

• D e s i g n a t e d L o c a t i o n •

Italy

---

• P s y c h P r o f i l e •
+ Amiable + Affectionate + Sweet
- Absent-mided - Obsessive - Clingy
* Be loved * Be surrounded by friends * Forge unbreakable bonds

---

• U n i q u e T r a i t s & A b i l i t i e s •
Friar's Lantern | At first glance, her Miracle seems exactly that, a miracle. But too much of a good thing can be bad, and she is proof. She is able to radiate a bright and warm light that has an almost instanteneous soothing effect on anyone within her vicinity. In fact, this feeling is so euphoric to some that those that have been exposed to it constantly seek it afterward. Like a scratch they cannot itch, they become consumed by their desire to feel the effects of her light. There are many who have dropped everything -- their familes, jobs, friends -- just to feel the effects of her light again. She loves them most, and they become a part of her eventually.

Beyond her light, she can manipulate the emotions of people around her -- although most of the time, she alters their personal attachment toward her. She wants nothing more than for everyone to love her; if they don't, then she will make them.

___________________________
A p p e t i t e L v l :: 3

(D&D 5E) The Tyranny of Dragons, Part 1; Hoard of the Dragon Queen

Got a 1 for the roll.

(D&D 5E) The Tyranny of Dragons, Part 1; Hoard of the Dragon Queen

Rhaeyla will probably want to check on Cassandra and the others instead.

(D&D 5E) The Tyranny of Dragons, Part 1; Hoard of the Dragon Queen

Rhaeyla's Turn | Init: 13

HP 10/10 | Status: None

---

Despite being scraped herself, Rhaeyla was more acutely aware of everyone else getting hurt by the kobolds. Cassandra had been hit hard, and the matriarch of the family was worse for wear, bleeding from her hips. She wanted to help them, ease their pain with her touch, but it was more pertinent to rid of the source of danger as swiftly as possible.

Sebastian would be coming soon, she reminded herself. He'll take care of Cassandra. Vaal and Caw were unharmed and that much gave her some peace of mind.

After dismounting Lucian, Rhaeyla grabbed her quarterstaff, and with eyes aglow with fierce determination, she charged forward to attack the kobold whose dagger she had deflected. The small cut on her hand stung only slightly as she gripped the staff tightly, raising it above her head and swinging down at the kobold with all the might she could muster. There was a sickening crunch as the hardwood found its target, slamming the creature down to the ground.

As Rhaeyla tried to follow up with a kick to the other kobold that had cut her, she caught sight of the dead kobold's bashed-in skull and presently lost focus, allowing the kobold to easily dodge her attack.

Turn Summary

Rhaeyla attacks Kobold [F] with a 24 to hit, killing it with 11 damage.
She attempts to make an additional unarmed strike, but misses.

—OBLIVION.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━	━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ W a y D o w n W e G o , P a r t I location: Ocean's Edge Hotel → P. Johnson's interacting with: Sebastian (@Lionhearted), Sara (@banjoanjo), Meir (@Severance) ◂◂ II ▸▸ I'm Coming Home Today — The Dig§

From the balcony of her hotel room, Freya could see the horizon stretching into a blinding foreverness. The morning breeze lapped at her skin and tousled her hair, leaving in its wake the briny smell of the sea and vague memories of late night bonfires, lots of beer, and partying. Besides the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore and the occasional bird cawing as it swooped into the sands for crumbs, there was a blanket of silence that enveloped the hotel. It was calming, almost enough to offset the stress piling up at the thought of the day's activities. But not quite, she thought as she looked at her phone.

Five missed calls from mom. One email from her client, one from her boss. A facebook post from Jack.

Freya took a sip of her silver needle tea and glanced at the notifications that greeted her, already drafting responses in her head. Her mom would be saved for last – although never would be more ideal. She had learned the hard way that dealing with her mother so early in the day only led to a migraine that would need nursing until sunset. It was the last thing she needed.

Work, on the other hand, was easy. Freya replied to her client, a couple with a newly opened boutique looking to establish their brand and develop their online presence, without having to spare much effort. They were sweet in that uniquely Delton way that practically drenched her in a wave of nostalgia when she first met with them. It was something she hadn't realized she missed after living in brusque New York City for so long. Their email, filled with gushing commendations and multiple proclamations of wanting to work with her again, was essentially an informal 5-star review.

To her boss, she'd simply emailed, "Done. Rescheduled this week's brainstorming session and everything else I had for when I get back."



Her phone buzzed with three more messages from mommy dearest just as the email sent, the paranoia lacing her texts impossibly palpable. Freya had been careful not to mention her week-long "business trip" to her former hometown, fully aware that her mom would yet again blow things out of proportion. Delton continued to be a sore spot for her mom; apparently so deeply damaging to her psyche that she would sooner give up half her estates than set foot back there. After they left so suddenly all those years ago, they never spoke about Ritman or Delton or anyone from there. Not about her friends, their neighbors. Not even about her father, still locked away in prison somewhere.

That it remained such a mystery to her was what compelled her to finally return… well, that and the quiet, nagging regret that still lingered in the corner of her mind, of course. When she heard they had someone signing all the way from Maine, she immediately volunteered and passed up her usual high-profile clientele. It was the justification she needed; one she couldn't back out from if she happened to get cold feet, as she had many times before.

Freya took another sip of her tea, a long centering breath, then swiped up and away from the messages. No dealing with mom today.

"Can't wait to see what's inside ;)" she replied to Jack instead. Her little reunion had been a happy coincidence – kismet, the silly, quixotic part of her would whisper, as though the fates or god or whatever higher being is up there actually cared enough about her feelings to orchestrate all these events to coincide.

⇢ ⇢ ⇢

Their former chauffeur had offered to take her around when he'd heard she was coming for a visit. Once upon a time, Lloyd made car rides and road trips with her parents bearable; she had come to associate him with Altoids and warmth and doting stories about his newborn grandchild. When they met again in a nearby café a few days ago, he greeted her with a welcoming hug and a fond "look how much you've grown" and she worried she would have burst into a blubbering mess of tears right then and there.

Lloyd had been taking her around town for the past few days, to places that were familiar but changed – except her old house, she wasn't ready for that, she decided – and happily updated her on the recent goings-on. Ritman was getting demolished, he'd mentioned sadly yesterday, and she told him that was partly why she was here for a visit.

Today, he drove her by an old bookstore she frequented whenever she wanted to be alone, surprisingly still in business. Lloyd had always known to look for her there, and it touched her that he still remembered. More than once, she wondered what would have happened if they stayed. In spite of all the trouble with rumors and her not so great reputation, she had managed to find a handful of people she could honestly, openly, talk to—no BS, no pretending. Perhaps she could have found even more. Perhaps she would have lost them too.

Freya didn't think it was wise to get all sentimental before meeting up with her old classmates, so she saved a visit to the bookstore another day and asked Lloyd to drop her off at P. Johnson's instead. Might as well get it over with. She scheduled dinner and desserts with Lloyd for the day after as well, knowing full well she would have to rely on his calming presence if the reunion turns out exactly how she imagined it would be.

The drive to the bar was quicker than she'd anticipated, barely enough time to prepare herself – although she wasn't exactly sure what she was preparing for, or even why she had to. It just felt like something she should be ready for, like a conference call with the board or a big presentation with the clients where she has to be in full control. No room for mishaps or mistakes or awkward silences. Freya stalled in her seat for just a moment to compose herself. Another long, centering breath did the trick, and as she stepped out of the car and waved goodbye to Lloyd, all of her nerves washed away.

⇢ ⇢ ⇢

Inside, Sebastian was the first one she noticed, his face and stature all too familiar even after all these years. All at once she was stricken with affection, wistfulness, and guilt. He was tending the bar, which was rather surprising to Freya. Bartender in Delton would have been the last identifier she'd pick for him; NFL superstar and beyond had seemed more apt back then. It was difficult not to wonder what happened after high school then, to him and everyone else she knew. Did he leave and come back, did he never leave at all? They drifted apart even before she left; perhaps something had already happened then.

At the bar were two other familiar Ritman alum, although it took a bit longer to place who they were. Zhou was the only name her mind could supply at the moment; not part of the group she usually hung out with, but one of their targets. One of the smart ones. The other guy she also knew – another target of her so-called friends – but his name escaped her. He's changed a lot, Freya speculated. Her memory of him was conflicting with what she saw now.

Instead of trying to prod her memory further for names, she decided to wait for introductions, or reintroductions, to come up organically. Freya joined the two at the bar and ordered a drink before anything else.

"Hey, Sebastian," she greeted, smiling with genuine fondness -- and only the barest hint of something sadder -- as she got a better look at him. Whatever happened after high school, he still seemed like the Sebastian she knew back then. Sweet, reserved, completely unlike the rest of the people she had been surrounded by. She hoped the years had been kind to him. "Can I get an Old Fashioned?"

Then as she waited for her drink, she turned to the two, waving casually in greeting. "Have you guys seen Jack?"

(D&D 5E) The Tyranny of Dragons, Part 1; Hoard of the Dragon Queen

@CollectorOfMyst Yep! Been a bit busy this week, but will have a post either late tonight or tomorrow morning. :D