IdyllicDreamer
Dragon's Dream
The diamond in the rough requires dedication, attention, and character to be fully uncovered.
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Fandom Darkness before the Dawn [Private]
- Thread starter IdyllicDreamer
- Start date
IdyllicDreamer
Dragon's Dream
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[div class=PostieBox][div class=PostieBall][div class=PostieAvie][/div][/div][div class=PostieName]Rose Ralasin[/div][div class=Credit]Created by IdyllicDreamer[/div]
At some times it felt like anger ran through her veins more than blood, coursing and coiling through the entirety of her body till there was little left but that seething feeling feeding on the darkness within. This moment in time was not one of that consuming fury, a moment of calm clarity for her. A rare thing as she almost felt at peace for a period of time. Sucking in a slightly shaking breath she would finally drop that knife she had been clutching, a terrible thing to bring to a gunfight but... This had not been a gunfight, nor did she let it become one. The blood coated blade simply fell into the pool of liquid that formed in the dip in the floor, seeping into the wood and every roughed up dent in it.
In a way she was alone in the room, but she certainly was not the only body in the bedroom at the time. A chamber meant for a small group, a way to save money with a few beds for a traveling company. They all lay dead, throats slit creating the mass of blood. The reason the four were dead, and she lived, was rather simple. It had nothing to do with skill, or anything of that sort. It was poison, a sleeping tincture she had slipped into their drinks when they had been downstairs. Nothing to directly knock them out, look suspicious... Just something that would make them feel far too drowsy, less likely to wake up quickly.
This wasn't simply an idle crime, either. No random targeting of a few individuals, seeking money or something else they may have been boasting... It was the crests they bore. Each of them, a stylized rose of blades set into an iron base. Jagged, broken. A memory of a nightmare, her namesake. Disgusting. An itch for the knife once more crawled through her, though there was nothing to be done with it. Shutting these men down, claiming their orders, was all she would be able to do in this place. Soon, now, she would need to leave before someone discovered her, tied her to the bodies and sent the law after her. Rose already had more than enough trouble trying to hunt down Lelic Relzine.
That calmness passed through her then as a chill swept through her once more, conflict, they may not all have been bad. The same internal debate, it was too late now though as she just grabbed her knife, shoving it into the strap that sat under her dress against her thigh. Wishing, for a moment, that she didn't have to do it all. That she wasn't constantly taunted by a memory she hunted, that she could finally get that damned face out of her nightmares. Teeth gritting slightly as it flashed in her mind, those features so hauntingly similar to her own. The anger once more washed through her.
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At some times it felt like anger ran through her veins more than blood, coursing and coiling through the entirety of her body till there was little left but that seething feeling feeding on the darkness within. This moment in time was not one of that consuming fury, a moment of calm clarity for her. A rare thing as she almost felt at peace for a period of time. Sucking in a slightly shaking breath she would finally drop that knife she had been clutching, a terrible thing to bring to a gunfight but... This had not been a gunfight, nor did she let it become one. The blood coated blade simply fell into the pool of liquid that formed in the dip in the floor, seeping into the wood and every roughed up dent in it.
In a way she was alone in the room, but she certainly was not the only body in the bedroom at the time. A chamber meant for a small group, a way to save money with a few beds for a traveling company. They all lay dead, throats slit creating the mass of blood. The reason the four were dead, and she lived, was rather simple. It had nothing to do with skill, or anything of that sort. It was poison, a sleeping tincture she had slipped into their drinks when they had been downstairs. Nothing to directly knock them out, look suspicious... Just something that would make them feel far too drowsy, less likely to wake up quickly.
This wasn't simply an idle crime, either. No random targeting of a few individuals, seeking money or something else they may have been boasting... It was the crests they bore. Each of them, a stylized rose of blades set into an iron base. Jagged, broken. A memory of a nightmare, her namesake. Disgusting. An itch for the knife once more crawled through her, though there was nothing to be done with it. Shutting these men down, claiming their orders, was all she would be able to do in this place. Soon, now, she would need to leave before someone discovered her, tied her to the bodies and sent the law after her. Rose already had more than enough trouble trying to hunt down Lelic Relzine.
That calmness passed through her then as a chill swept through her once more, conflict, they may not all have been bad. The same internal debate, it was too late now though as she just grabbed her knife, shoving it into the strap that sat under her dress against her thigh. Wishing, for a moment, that she didn't have to do it all. That she wasn't constantly taunted by a memory she hunted, that she could finally get that damned face out of her nightmares. Teeth gritting slightly as it flashed in her mind, those features so hauntingly similar to her own. The anger once more washed through her.
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CorvusCorax
𝔻 𝔼 𝕍 𝕀 𝕃 𝕀 𝕊 ℍ
it's a cold ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ and it's a broken
Ⱨ ₳ Ⱡ Ⱡ Ɇ Ⱡ Ʉ J ₳ Ⱨ
That Demon, Summoned
"M̤͇̤̭y͈͖̟͙̬, ̷̜͙m̶̪ y, my..."
The voice that echoed about the room began as a distorted warble, sing-song in nature but with an obviously inhuman edge, before melting into something understandable to the woman. This one spoke English; and the being adjusted their tongue accordingly. There was no physical body to the words, not yet anyway, thus it was difficult to pinpoint the exact location of its source. It seemed to come from the shadows... or perhaps from the many pools of crimson at her feet... or even from the cold breeze that blew in from the open window...
"You've gone and made a mess of the place... How naughty. Did you even stop to think about who would have to clean up after you?"
Words echoed about the humid room, which was filled with delectable smells of metallic blood and bittersweet anger. Hunger reared its ugly head. Ah, how it missed these tastes, these sensations. Invisible eyes watched her every move. Would she strike again? A lovely show had been put on just moments earlier, and the being was dying for more. But what would she attack? Slashing at the air would do absolutely no good. It needed a physical body, one that she could freely charge at is she so desired... How long had it been since one was required?
Ah... the last form it -- no -- he remembered was that of a perfectly tailored butler, something befitting of an earl...
The vermilion puddles strewn about the room seemed to slither and writhe like the body of a snake, moving this way and that. Blood collected exactly in the center of it before seeming to boil. Sickening bubbles collected along the surface, jumping and growing in volume, before the mass leaped up into the air. Rather than exploding about the bedroom and painting it the violent, vivid shade of crimson, it formed into the shape of a man. From there, shadows and highlights were born, until -- at last -- it resembled a human being.
Bent at the waist, the butler of a man straightened himself up with a smile far too pleasant for the events that had just occurred. Heavily lashed eyes opened to reveal a supernatural shade of burgundy that was reminiscent of dried blood. The shadows surrounding them seemed to emanate off of his coat tails while simultaneously dancing through his raven locks of hair. He was a beauty... but also the beast.
"I do you hope will forgive me for watching. When one calls, I must answer. My timing always seems to be a bit too early."
Who has not repaid his debt
Elias Edward ' Calamity ' Miller
Take me back to the night we met
An immediate hush fell over the saloon as the trio of patrons entered. No longer did cheery music pour from the worn keys of the piano, nor did joyous and drunken voices waver through the air. The temperature outside was a sizzling one-hundred degrees but a deadly chill settled over the entire establishment. Even the biggest, baddest looking idiot among the usuals blanched. The gang was immediately recognized. How could they not be, though? Their reign of terror had been spread across the southeast for going on three years now, their wanted posters hung on poles and pin boards from here all the way up to southern California, and simply uttering the name "Hell Hounds" was rumored to summon their presence. Only three of them entered the saloon, but the rest of the gang wasn't sure to be far off. They stuck together like a pack of wolves... and they were certainly as vicious as one.
"Well howdy there, boys!"
The greeting came from the leader; a rather petite male that stood between two imposing men. Long-lashed emerald greens sparkled with mischief, peeking out from underneath a wide brimmed hat. There was a smudge of dirt along his freckle spattered, porcelain cheek, peachy pink lips curled up into a dazzling grin. Fingers stayed poised over the weapon at their hip, just in case one of the saloon patrons decided to let their liquid courage get the better of them. One might have shook their head in disbelief after learning that this little, fragile looking thing lead the notorious gang... But looks were often deceiving. What this man lacked in appearances, he made up for in viciousness.
"Now, now... we ain't here to cause trouble," Boots clanked across the derelict floors as the leader took a few steps towards the frightened bartender, "My boys an' I are just lookin' for a place to wet our throats. Figured this town looked mighty nice, the people even nicer, and we wanted to come in an' introduce ourselves. Hopefully that's alright wit' y'all?"
"Dunno, boss. They look awfully scared..." Paul, his right-hand man, observed with a chuckle.
"Come on, y'all! That ain't no way to treat guests!" The leader slammed their hand down against the bar top in good nature, pulling it away to reveal a pile of shiny coins, "How 'bout I buy us all a round? We're all friends here, yeah?"
IdyllicDreamer
Dragon's Dream
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[div class=PostieBox][div class=PostieBall][div class=PostieAvie][/div][/div][div class=PostieName]Rose Ralasin[/div][div class=Credit]Created by IdyllicDreamer[/div]
The woman's body would go tense at the voice, the echo from the world around her causing her gaze to move around the room almost wildly. Yet it wasn't just one thing, nothing she could settle her attention on, no proper defense. A strand of fear trickled through the anger, one pressing the other down, gritting her teeth some as she clenched that knife once more. Futile as it may have felt, it was the smallest of comforts she could afford in this. A piece of 'known' in this unusual situation.
"No. I did not spare a thought for the profession of others." Her voice coming out in a tone far more solid, stable, than she actually felt. Grin and bear it. This wasn't a time for her to fall apart, slip away under... whatever this was. Was the madness catching up to her? The thing she had heard whispered about, if it was... then it would take her kicking and screaming because Rose wasn't yet finished.
Blue eyes would snap down, catching the movement as the blood... What? One boot sliding back slightly, the most give in that moment as it seemed to move, more than just a trick of the eye as they came together. The idea of on-setting madness seeming less and less distant there till a body formed from it all. In her shock she had almost dropped the knife, forgotten the feelings churning about inside of her, the numbness of ignorance taking hold till it spoke again. He? It.
For a few beats, painful heavy things as her mind tried to wrap around the events that just transpired, she would be silent. Staring. She wasn't savage, not ready to blindly charge forward with reckless abandon.
"You watch... because you arrive sooner than when you are called?" Would be her response to that in the end, feeling falsely calmer for a moment at being able to place a face to the sound. A lie. Called, had it been her? Or one of them, these corpses, could the dead call for aid? Fingers twitched against the knife slightly as its position in her hand changed, ready.
[/div][class=PostieBoxL]width:75%;height:auto;min-height:250px;transition-duration:1s;opacity:1;border: 5px solid #ffffff;margin:auto;margin-top:50px;position:relative;padding:5px;[/class] [class=PostieBallL]width:200px;height:250px;padding:5px;float:left;border-radius:10%;margin-top:-50px;margin-left:-100px;margin-right:10px;[/class] [class=PostieAvieL]width:100%;height:100%;border-radius:10%;overflow:hidden;[/class] [class=PostieNameL]height:40px;padding-top:5px;margin-top:20px;margin-right:-5px;text-align:center;font-size:25px;[/class] [class name=PostieBoxL]background:#444444;border-color:#173891;color:#ffffff;[/class] [class name=PostieBallL]background:#173891;[/class] [class name=PostieAvieL]background:url('https://i.postimg.cc/NMn0jS23/Western-Small.png');background-size:cover;[/class] [class name=PostieNameL]background:#173891;color:#D5BCE6;text-shadow:1px 1px 2px #000000, 0 0 15px #FF33EE;[/class] [div class=PostieBoxL][div class=PostieBallL][div class=PostieAvieL][/div][/div][div class=PostieNameL]Ciel Phantomhive[/div][div class=Credit]Created by IdyllicDreamer[/div]
Opinion on the law varied greatly, from person to person. Some people believed in it, some were strictly against it. Believing in their own sense of justice, unfortunately that made them troublesome. They either worked with him, or they kept to their secrets. Unknowingly making things harder for them, for him. A faint grumble coming from under his breath as he scrubbed a hand over his face. Paperwork was tedious. There was no required effort behind it, simply jotting down the same thing in a different way. It lacked the elegance of a challenge. Unfortunately it was far too required at times, records to be stored or sent off for particular events. It might have been useful, or a big waste of his time.
"Sheriff, the Hell Hounds are at the saloon!" A young man would exclaim as he went bursting into the constabulary, providing an ample excuse for Ciel to forgo the remains of the paperwork for the time. Honestly, most of it was catch-up. He had only arrived recently in the town, the last Sheriff... may have disappeared. The other man hardly kept proper track of things, which left it up to him to straighten the whole damned mess out. This, though, was a whole different kind of mess to straighten out. Expression hardly changing there, as he looked from it to the other... Jim, or John, or something with a J. Still growing accustomed to the names of some of the locals.
"Calm down, I'll take care of it." Ciel was considered a bit... strange, among others out here. He always spoke in a certain way, and never let his hair grow out. Kept too neat, most tended to think he was just some city boy because of it. They underestimated him, he took too much pleasure in that. No one knew that it had far much to do with a stupid memory, no one needed to know that his mother had liked things neat. That he recalled her comments over his fathers freshly shaven face. Fond memories, secrets.
Standing then he would slip on a specially made belt, the face of the buckle being part of his family once upon a time. It held his guns well enough, that was all anyone needed to know. Grabbing his hat next he left the establishment before making his way over to the local saloon, not all that special compared to most others... Today it was though, and he couldn't help that itching little question. Wondering if she was among them, no. She. Wouldn't be anymore, but he might be.
The whole situation would be made a lot more tense when Ciel walked in, though he wouldn't say anything at first. They had him outnumbered, outgunned. No amount of skill, or cunning, would swing this particular situation in his favor. His first move on this board would have to be a passive one, paving the way for his later plans.
"Well, quite a bit of travelers to be showing up so suddenly." He would play it a bit more casually as he spoke, making his way over to the bar then. That one visible eye locking onto the leader.
[/div]
The woman's body would go tense at the voice, the echo from the world around her causing her gaze to move around the room almost wildly. Yet it wasn't just one thing, nothing she could settle her attention on, no proper defense. A strand of fear trickled through the anger, one pressing the other down, gritting her teeth some as she clenched that knife once more. Futile as it may have felt, it was the smallest of comforts she could afford in this. A piece of 'known' in this unusual situation.
"No. I did not spare a thought for the profession of others." Her voice coming out in a tone far more solid, stable, than she actually felt. Grin and bear it. This wasn't a time for her to fall apart, slip away under... whatever this was. Was the madness catching up to her? The thing she had heard whispered about, if it was... then it would take her kicking and screaming because Rose wasn't yet finished.
Blue eyes would snap down, catching the movement as the blood... What? One boot sliding back slightly, the most give in that moment as it seemed to move, more than just a trick of the eye as they came together. The idea of on-setting madness seeming less and less distant there till a body formed from it all. In her shock she had almost dropped the knife, forgotten the feelings churning about inside of her, the numbness of ignorance taking hold till it spoke again. He? It.
For a few beats, painful heavy things as her mind tried to wrap around the events that just transpired, she would be silent. Staring. She wasn't savage, not ready to blindly charge forward with reckless abandon.
"You watch... because you arrive sooner than when you are called?" Would be her response to that in the end, feeling falsely calmer for a moment at being able to place a face to the sound. A lie. Called, had it been her? Or one of them, these corpses, could the dead call for aid? Fingers twitched against the knife slightly as its position in her hand changed, ready.
[/div][class=PostieBoxL]width:75%;height:auto;min-height:250px;transition-duration:1s;opacity:1;border: 5px solid #ffffff;margin:auto;margin-top:50px;position:relative;padding:5px;[/class] [class=PostieBallL]width:200px;height:250px;padding:5px;float:left;border-radius:10%;margin-top:-50px;margin-left:-100px;margin-right:10px;[/class] [class=PostieAvieL]width:100%;height:100%;border-radius:10%;overflow:hidden;[/class] [class=PostieNameL]height:40px;padding-top:5px;margin-top:20px;margin-right:-5px;text-align:center;font-size:25px;[/class] [class name=PostieBoxL]background:#444444;border-color:#173891;color:#ffffff;[/class] [class name=PostieBallL]background:#173891;[/class] [class name=PostieAvieL]background:url('https://i.postimg.cc/NMn0jS23/Western-Small.png');background-size:cover;[/class] [class name=PostieNameL]background:#173891;color:#D5BCE6;text-shadow:1px 1px 2px #000000, 0 0 15px #FF33EE;[/class] [div class=PostieBoxL][div class=PostieBallL][div class=PostieAvieL][/div][/div][div class=PostieNameL]Ciel Phantomhive[/div][div class=Credit]Created by IdyllicDreamer[/div]
Opinion on the law varied greatly, from person to person. Some people believed in it, some were strictly against it. Believing in their own sense of justice, unfortunately that made them troublesome. They either worked with him, or they kept to their secrets. Unknowingly making things harder for them, for him. A faint grumble coming from under his breath as he scrubbed a hand over his face. Paperwork was tedious. There was no required effort behind it, simply jotting down the same thing in a different way. It lacked the elegance of a challenge. Unfortunately it was far too required at times, records to be stored or sent off for particular events. It might have been useful, or a big waste of his time.
"Sheriff, the Hell Hounds are at the saloon!" A young man would exclaim as he went bursting into the constabulary, providing an ample excuse for Ciel to forgo the remains of the paperwork for the time. Honestly, most of it was catch-up. He had only arrived recently in the town, the last Sheriff... may have disappeared. The other man hardly kept proper track of things, which left it up to him to straighten the whole damned mess out. This, though, was a whole different kind of mess to straighten out. Expression hardly changing there, as he looked from it to the other... Jim, or John, or something with a J. Still growing accustomed to the names of some of the locals.
"Calm down, I'll take care of it." Ciel was considered a bit... strange, among others out here. He always spoke in a certain way, and never let his hair grow out. Kept too neat, most tended to think he was just some city boy because of it. They underestimated him, he took too much pleasure in that. No one knew that it had far much to do with a stupid memory, no one needed to know that his mother had liked things neat. That he recalled her comments over his fathers freshly shaven face. Fond memories, secrets.
Standing then he would slip on a specially made belt, the face of the buckle being part of his family once upon a time. It held his guns well enough, that was all anyone needed to know. Grabbing his hat next he left the establishment before making his way over to the local saloon, not all that special compared to most others... Today it was though, and he couldn't help that itching little question. Wondering if she was among them, no. She. Wouldn't be anymore, but he might be.
The whole situation would be made a lot more tense when Ciel walked in, though he wouldn't say anything at first. They had him outnumbered, outgunned. No amount of skill, or cunning, would swing this particular situation in his favor. His first move on this board would have to be a passive one, paving the way for his later plans.
"Well, quite a bit of travelers to be showing up so suddenly." He would play it a bit more casually as he spoke, making his way over to the bar then. That one visible eye locking onto the leader.
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