[P] {M} Welcome to my candy store
Evelyn!
#1

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: Drugs mentions.

So you wanna start a war in the age of icons?
So you wanna be immortal with a loaded gun?

Anactoria dressed in her best dress, the blue dress with gold ribbons. She fixed her hair nicely, her fur washed and she used wintergreen as she couldn't find another perfume to wear. First impressions were always key. She even tried to get Chernobog looking nice but he was an uncooperative brute and she couldn't clean all of him. But she cleaned what she could. She had a pendant now, one she carved from wood. It was temporary at best but it had a pentacle carved into the nicest wood she could find. She knew she shouldn't be overdressed but she had only two outfits at best and this was the better option of the two. She had the gifts tucked in her horses's right saddlebag, her satchel tied to the horse as to not distress her dress too much. Heather perched on her shoulder while Saffron flew ahead. She headed towards the edge of town.

The witch felt unprepared and she felt an emotion she hated, doubt. It was not doubt of the gods, oh no. But doubt towards herself. She sought to squash it, hating feeling like she wasn't good enough. No, she was the best, she was chosen by the gods. Given a prophecy at a young age and her blood was of witch royalty. A prophecy that foretold her rule of the Coven, or that was how she chose to interpret it. She worked hard, studied hard, and pushed herself to train towards becoming queen one day. She still couldn't fathom how the birth of her half-sister happened on the blood moon she thought was a sign for her. She would never try to usurp her mother, though considering her mother's inaction during her firstborn's exile, there was a strong resentment towards the witch queen. But nowhere as close to the hate Anactoria fellt towards Ajak Cersine, her own grandmother.

No, the sorceress couldn't allow herself to think those things. Especially not so close to such as important meeting as this. She tailored a fine skirt that she bartered the fabric for. It was her best work yet and she even sewed pearls onto the skirt and it had two layers of fabric as well as an adjustable waist. It was useful and showed her skill, as a craftswoman and a trader. And the necklace, the green gemstone she managed to find after searching through the ruins and breaking open the metal box. She did that, all by herself. She brought cannabis and tobacco seeds, something both useful and religious.  She felt like she had done everything right. And now she was wearing her best clothing and prepared herself for this.

She could see the edge of town, she would be there soon. She prayed to the gods, a silent prayer. They blessed her with prophecy and she believed everything to be a part of the gods' design. She had been prophesied for greatness, they expected her to be great. She had to believe that this was destiny. She had to have faith.

Anactoria arrived at the meeting place.


OOC→ I couldn't choose between a Mean Girls lyric or a Heathers lyric
dang dang diggity dang dang
January 15th? Or 16th?
She's wearing That Blue Dress
WORD COUNT→ 512
Sail among liars. Blame the deniers
If history is dead and gone, then how did we get here, my God?
Image from Pixabay | Table by Silverfrost
[Image: q3uu0j.png]

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#2

Remembering her promise, Evelyn had risen early that morning before dawn even cracked the sky, it was dark and the silence was somewhat comforting after the roar of battle. The time trickled by slowly since, the pain in her thigh, her ribs, and all of her muscles had reminded her that it had not been that long ago. Her heart ached for the losses they had suffered at the hands of the enemy, even if they were not personal. Thank the gods that her family had made it out alright. The woman rubbed at her nose, swearing she could still feel the burning and stench of smoke from the battlefield.

Carefully, she changed the dressings, not wanting to bother Eden at this hour, she had asked for some supplies to take home. Her rib was still badly scabbed, but at least it was definitely healing, and it itched like no other, but the thought of scratching almost made her double over. Cleansing it with the warm water that had been brought to a boil over the hearth and set to cool, she dipped the washcloth in before gently wiping around the wound. Her attention shifted to the wound in her thigh she had taken from an arrow, and with practiced strokes, she cleansed that area as well. Remove the fresh strips of linen, she quickly wrapped up her ribs first, before turning her attention to her thigh and tucked the end of the wrapping tight into itself so no one would see it under her clothing. This was not a time to be showing any weakness.

The thought of the woman she had met three days prior had come to mind, honestly as much as Evelyn did not want to trust anyone, especially now. There was this gut feeling that told her that this woman may be more useful than she had originally let on. Not to mention the large stallion had been the thing that caught her eye the most. He would be a handsome addition to their breeding line, she wondered if Grievous would agree. Some fresh blood would possibly do them some good if they could breed him to the right female in time for Spring. Although, they had plenty to choose from that had already given them some great progeny, there was always good in being able to add to the blood line so they did not muddy their lines with inbreeding.

Layering on some warm cotton clothing, before adding furs tied about her with leather straps for support, Evelyn felt like almost a new woman again until she stepped outside and the blistering cold hit her face. Her eyes watered slightly as she squinted against the dawn that had finally broken the sky above. Quickly she readied the painted stallion, as best as she could, before clambering atop him not so gracefully and taking off at a brisk trot. Each drop in the saddle sent pain up through her body, but she concentrated on the task ahead and pushed him as quick as she could towards the borders.

It had taken them several hours to arrive - if only for the sole fact that Evelyn needed to break often to catch her breath and push him down into a slow walk to help with the pain. Her hair was tied back in a long braid, little pieces falling out to frame her pointed face, her hood now sitting on her shoulders so that she could hear all the better and not be taken by surprise.

They made their way slowly through the small town, and just as they passed a familiar pile of rubble near the small square she spotted the woman dressed handsomely before her in bright hues of azure. Well, at least she cleaned up well.

"Punctual," she noted positively with a grin to the woman before tipping her head in greeting. "Sorry for my delay, let's cut to the chase, what did you bring?" she asked, wondering if the woman had been resourceful and acquired something more than her horse for trade. Evelyn was interested in seeing what she brought because that would be the deciding factor if she would bring her to the borders of Salsola to introduce her to the Mafiosi. The self-proclaimed prophetess could prove to be a worthy asset if what she said was true. There was conviction in her tone when they had met that caused Evelyn to take heed on the loner. Maybe they could extend this grace upon her.


(753) | NPCs: Icarus (Stallion)
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#3
I'll meet you in the park, I'll be calm and collected
I knew right from the start you'd fall apart 'cause I'm too expensive

Anactoria waited, trying to calm her mind. She ached for a cigarette but she tempered it. She needed to keep everything together, she had an image to hold. First impressions were key and she would not arrive smelling like vices. As she waited, she dismounted her stallion, moving a few meters away to pick up a piece of wood. She pulled out her knife and started carving it, mindful to not grace her dress with the shavings. She wasn't sure what she was carving, if not just carving shapes. She wondered if she might pull out her cards and read her fortune to assure herself. No, she had to be sure that everything would turn out right. This was fate. She waited, looking up and then scanning her surroundings. She saw a silhouette in the distance and assumed it was the pretty stranger. She placed the knife and her half-finished carving away in her satchel. She decided to remain at Chernobog's side if only to show respect and so she could access his saddlebags more readily. Her heart thrummed in her chest and she worked to calm herself down. She had to keep her facade up, the mask of a wise prophetess.

The blue-eyed beauty noted her punctuality, giving a small greeting. The Cersine woman's hopes were lifted as she was making a good impression it seemed. The woman wasted no time getting to the chase, not even for a greeting. The sorceress respected the woman's drive. She noted some scents that hadn't been quite as present on the woman as last time. Quite interesting, she thought to herself. Chernobog seemed a tad distrusting of the other stallion, though she assumed that was the nature of horses. She didn't know all that much of the beasts of burden. The stranger was well-dressed and was dressed warmly. The chill was starting to nip at the woman who didn't don her cloak in a slight lack of foresight. But she would bear the cold. She perhaps didn't want to look the same as their first meeting. But she had some thickness to her fur thanks to her hybrid blood that gave her protection, even in her Optime form.

The witch wasted no time going to her saddlebag. But her moved were deliberate, opening the saddle bag and carefully pulling out the three gifts and then presenting them to the woman. The pendant hung from first finger on her left hand, a shined green gemstone on a black cord. She had put a lot of work into making it presentable. The bags of tobacco and cannabis seeds were held in her left palm. The skirt she had crafted was held in her right hand, her hand flat under it like a plate as it was neatly folded. One could still see the pearls she had stitched into the skirt. She attempted to step forth, attempting to stop between the two horses, her gifts held in front of her. If the woman asked her to come closer, she would oblige.

"I've brought a pendant, a skirt I have crafted, and a bag of tobacco and a bag of cannabis seeds," she said.


OOC→ Hello!
WORD COUNT→ 528
Cannibal class, killing the sun. Bury a friend, I wanna end me
The debt I owe, gotta sell my soul
Image from Pixabay | Table by Silverfrost
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#4

Already the woman had made a good impression on the de le Ulrich. She was punctual and presentable, but did she bring something of value that may impress the leaders of such a great kingdom. She purposely did not give her name, because she was not entirely sure if she wanted to start their relationship by lying to this woman who had the potential to become one of them. Also, she did not release any information about her ties to the pack, for all this woman knew she was still just a loner that had traded with nearby packs and knew of a little bit of information that would help her.

Evelyn drew herself - albeit slowly - off the back of her stallion, if only because the two horses being so close were both making them a little uneasy with the other. Icarus was not quite the friendly type when it came to other males, especially when Evelyn was around he could get a little protective and she did not want to get in the middle of any shows of domination. Landing on her good leg, she fussed at the saddle momentarily if only to make hide the fact that the jarring motion of hitting the pavement had sent shooting pain up her wounded leg. When she felt the pain subside enough that she could straighten herself out, Evelyn turned to inspect the gifts the other presented, closing the distance between the two of them and running her fingers down the length of the cord to the pendant and flipping it around, but not daring to take the gift from the woman as she would need to present them herself. Her interest piqued momentarily as her eyes went over the little baggies of tobacco and cannabis seeds, and she could not help but feel a brief moment of doubt due to the recent issues they had, but that was opium, the cannabis could be useful to Argive or possibly even Odalis, as Eden had mentioned something about a garden.

"You crafted this yourself?" her brow raised in question as her fingers ran over the cloth garment. "What other skills do you possess, prophetess?" she pressed further, as skills were always the best gift of all if one had a special talent that could be used within the kingdom. While there were many that could do basic sewing, someone that specialized in turning clothing into something regal and truly show the riches of the kingdom, well that could be useful. Anyone could swing a sword, but it took a practiced hand to put in such intricate and detailed work in such a short amount of time. The most Evelyn could do in regards to crafting was fletch and make arrows, this seemed a little more difficult than that.

"I think I could arrange a meeting with the leaders for you, but I must warn you, they don't just accept anyone within their borders. They may be just what you are looking for," her blue eyes flashed with interest back to the other stallion that hung back behind her. "And, if this doesn't impress them, I am sure he will," she gave a toothy grin looking back at the dark stallion with a pale mane.


(542) | NPCs: Icarus (Stallion)
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#5
It's not my problem if you don't see what I see
And I do not give a damn if you don't believe

Anactoria waited, watching as the stranger dismounted her horse. In retrospect, she should not have trusted a strange horse enough to get closer to it. She wasn't even close to being an expert on horses. They were undeniably useful but she didn't like getting her hands dirty. She missed having her slave who took care of Chernobog. She'd had him for a few years and understood the basics. The stablemasters of the Coven trained their horses well and as the heir apparent of the Coven, she got the best pick. Pity she didn't truly grasp how truly valuable Chernobog was. She thought while intimidating, he looked rather plain. Nothing like the prime example of beautiful horse that the stranger had. She noted something seemed off with the woman but didn't choose to comment nor ponder it. She figured something was off, not just with the woman's smell. But it wouldn't do her any good to point such things out. It could create a bad impression and she needed to be in this woman's good graces.

The stranger approached and Anactoria watched as she inspected the gifts. She saw the interest that the woman had in the pendant, examining it. Her spirits became <u>winsome</u> as she felt like she had done well. Though she hid it under her facade, for she had an impression to make. She hoped that she would gain this woman's favor as she seemed to be the ticket into this mysterious pack. She felt like a good pack, especially a home for witches should have an air of mystery. The witches of the Coven of Salem cultivated an aura of mystique as they arrived at the trading ports. Beautifully-dressed Luperci who peddled skilled crafts and read fortunes. The Caravan went further by usually appearing at their trading stalls near dusk along with whispers of curses and hexes.

The woman asked her questions, inquiring of the craftswork as well as the skills of the Cersine woman. She took a moment to catalogue her skills, trying to figure out what she would say. She could craft more than just dresses and skirts. She could carve items from wood and bone, create dyes to be used on cloths and leathers, tailor garments, and craft jewelry. She also had some skill and trade and spoke multiple tongues. She knew about teas and some plants, basic knowledge she had been taught as a witch.

"I crafted the skirt myself," she confirmed. "I can also carve bone and wood, create dyes to dye cloth and leather, and craft jewelry. I also know the art of merchantry, I procured the cloth for the skirt from a trader." She was being honest as she couldn't craft cloth on her own. "And I speak several languages. Along with common tongue I can speak Greek fluently and speak Italian and Germany intermediately." She noted only her most notable skills and ones they might find more useful.

The stranger said she could arrange a meeting between the calico witch and the leaders of this mysterious pack. She warned that they were selective of who they let in. The woman's eyes went to the horse behind the hybrid, noting that if these gifts didn't impress the leaders, the dark stallion might. Well, Anactoria was willing to do anything.

"I understand," she responded. "When might the meeting be?"


OOC→ let's goooooooooo
WORD COUNT→ 559
High achiever don't you see. Baby, nothing comes for free
I'm a control freak, driven by greed to succeed. Nobody can stop me
Image from Pixabay | Table by Silverfrost
[Image: q3uu0j.png]

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