[M] We see the unlimited stick. It is infinite. It is all.


POSTED: Sun Sep 16, 2018 1:29 am

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.

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Helena Troy Lykoi


It had been moons and moons since the betrothal was announced at that fateful first Last Supper. The years of the Tigress had come to an abrupt and strangely bloodless end. In her place, Elphaba had usurped the title of Boss. The Witch Queen, they whispered, fools and cowards that no longer had a place here. The time for pruning was upon them, to snip away those leaves that blackened and drooped, to allow the healthy to flourish.

Finally, a date was given. Helena burst into life again, as she had done for that first Last Supper, as she did for every occasion where she could truly shine as diamond among the fool's gold. It would be an extravagant affair, the Queen's own half brother to be mated was an excuse for riotous celebration among the faithful. Salsola adored its parties and jubilant events.

As Cocinero, as Conserje and as current the only member of the Merchant Faction, the pressure loaded onto the Frenchwoman was supreme, she bore it proudly. She awaited the visit of the Queen to discuss the exacting details but already her mind was working, some assumptions had already been made.

The Apprentice sat at her table for long hours, scribbling away with charcoal pencil for every last thought and idea that came into her mind. The Lykoi's normally neat, exacting hand devolved into chicken scratch as she frantically wrote into the late hours of the night, eschewing the company of her children, her mates and her servant.

When she finally did sleep, it was the dreamless unconsciousness of the exhausted; She rose late the next morning to cold tea and barely able to keep a bite of food down.

Her perusal of the late activity was a thoughtful affair, Helena rewrote out the notes in a legible hand into columns that grouped them together. Wine and Food were two major columns that required immediate attention. Wine and alcohol was the most pressing, since the time to make such things was greater than the length until the ceremony. Helena would have to trade for more luxuriant vintages than they currently held. She also knew just who to speak to about all things alcoholic and narcotic. The sharp, savage grin was equal exasperated and anticipation.

She sent Phobos to fetch him, from whatever place he called home. Helena headed to the storage shed on the back of her horse, still idly flicking through the sheets of parchment and papers. To make this a spectacular assemblage would require much work from herself.

Salsola held few bottles of their own alcohol, traded or made or stolen. They would not grace the table this time, she had a far grander plan in design. She waited for him, arms crossed and firm stance set, he dare not ignore her summons for she held the ear of the Queen and the other higher ranked members. It was no secret that Helena was among their Boss' most trusted friends.

Feel the heat of my breath
Hear the furnace in my chest
Helena Troy Lykoi

Merchant Apprentice
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Luperci Conserje Mate to Calla and Till

POSTED: Tue Sep 18, 2018 3:45 pm


Being practically dragged from her home by her father and some slave was an offense in Narcissa's eyes. She had grumbled for the entire journey to the Conserje's home, grumbles which Ankh turned a deaf ear to, addressing her only once to point out that it would not be prudent to question Helena's whims. Not while she held such a lofty position. Not while she turned a blind eye to his pilfering (which he would repay, eventually) and certainly not after she'd done Ankh an incredibly valuable favour...

When that admonishment hadn't worked, the pale man had been quick to point out how enamored Cissa was with the suspiciously pale, thin-faced puppy that Helena had recently birthed. And how much of a shame it would be if Cissa had offended Helena to the point where he adoring presence was no longer welcome. With a scowl, the black-cheeked girl had fallen silent, though walnut eyes still shot daggers furiously towards the doggish slave who led the way.

Besides, Cissa actively liked Helena. The blonde prima donna somehow saw something warm and motherly in the Lykoi bitch and gravitated happily towards her. They were certainly a pair, beautiful women, united in masqueraded malevolence. There was a base reluctance to badmouth the Merchant Apprentice, though it was constantly in a battle of wills with teenage rebellion, of course.

They found her in the storage shed, surrounded by a flurry of parchment and paper, all marred with elegant scribbles, well thought out plans. Entering, Ankh felt displeasure creep onto his face. Displeasure that masked jealously and jealousy that masked desire. Violent and intense desire. Not the kind of sweet lovers, the hellish kind. Born to destroy. Oh, how he hated this woman... An angel, six-winged, all covering a true, terrifying form, so bright and glorious that no man dared look upon it, for fear of death.

The Tradesman
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