House Rashmi
New
The Mountain Endures
Roleplay posts: 5 
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:38:25 GMT -8
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Post by House Rashmi on Aug 20, 2017 8:44:42 GMT -8
A relatively modest home overlooking the docks, the building was claimed early on for it's convenient position and particularly well-preserved state. With only minor repairs, a thorough cleaning, and a bit of decorating, the house has been turned into a comfortable home for the members of the Rashmi family that happen to be in Lhesa at any given time.  The ground floor contains common areas for socializing and entertaining guests, as well as offices for the business side of the family. Upstairs are living quarters for the staff and the family itself. All three floors have wide balconies and verandas with commanding views of the harbor, decorated with local varieties of flowers and plants. Liveried staff and guards in uniform occupy the building even when no actual members of the family are present. Messages and letters may be delivered her for business or personal reasons with ease. |
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Layla Rashmi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 54
Physical Description: An attractive woman, apparently in her middle thirties, with deep midnight blue eyes and thick, black hair that falls past her hips in a silken curtain. Almost reaching five feet tall, she has a strong, muscular frame and generous curves obvious even strapped down beneath plate armor. Her skin is smooth and pale like a porcelain doll, though she pinkens in the sun and freckles in the summer.
Her voice is a smoky contralto, calling to mind whispers in the night in its pitch and timbre regardless of the volume. She speaks with a rough accent, strongly implying a lowborn lineage and street education. The glint of razors strapped to her boots reinforces the image, despite her pleasant smile.
Braided into her hair so that it hangs below and just behind her left ear, and held in place with a column of deep blue beads, is a long feather, coal black on the back and banded black-and-white on the underside.
She walks with a choreographed grace, as though every step were a dance to music only she can hear, the jingling and clanking of her armor, spurs, and/or jewelry often playing audible percussion accompaniment.
Up close, one might notice the scent of the deep forest on her: leaves, rain, good soil, and wild roses. Beneath and behind, though not quite concealed by it, is the lingering smell of sweat, smoke, and blood.
Clothes and Equipment:
When out and about, Layla is most often seen in plate armor with a long, white, high-collared coat over it. Slung low on her left hip is a pair of massive hand-and-a-half swords, clearly a matching set, one with a guard and pommel in steel grey, the other trimmed in gold. On her right hip hangs a heavy steel warhammer.
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:59:46 GMT -8
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Post by Layla Rashmi on Aug 24, 2017 5:15:20 GMT -8
Layla skipped into the house with a wide smile and -Deleted- in tow, greeting the staff at the door. The exasperated staff, truth be told. Usually her indefatigable, relentless cheerfulness and informality was something of a perk to working for her, but on occasion, it could be a bit much. Like when she came in completely drenched and greeting people with warm hugs while they tried to prevent too much of the water from getting into the house. Fortunately, the water ran off of her long coat as if it was enchanted to repel the rain, which many of them suspected it was. Unfortunately, that meant it soaked into the uniforms that much more quickly. And the puddle of rainwater pooling rapidly under her boots would require cleaning as well. Some people had the sense to come in out of the rain, but if anything, Layla enjoyed the weather. Hot or cold; wind, rain, or snow, she never seemed to mind. She might have sent ahead to warn them she was coming, but with the speed they had made racing ahead of the squall like maniacs, she almost certainly would have beat any messenger here anyway. Instead, she let the staff know that the rest of the family would be arriving some time in the next few days behind her, depending on what kind of time they made sailing under a sane captain that might at least pretend to occasionally put safety above speed. Then she asked them to draw her a hot bath. |
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-Deleted-
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 23:19:14 GMT -8
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Post by -Deleted- on Aug 24, 2017 9:06:27 GMT -8
It seemed as though Circe wasn't doing a whole lot better than the staff. Her own clothes were entirely mundane, and as such had become soaked with rain. Thankfully - for the staff, at least - Circe wasn't the sort the give out hugs, offering over nothing more than a slightly weary nod in greeting as she tried to give them a bit of a berth.
After a moment, Circe ducked away on her own to find a changing room, her first priority apparently to dry herself off and re-arm once inside. Those who passed by the room would likely hear her quietly grumbling to herself as she made herself ready. It wasn't as though she particularly minded the rain, but being waterlogged like she was, was more than a bit uncomfortable. More than that, however, she made a point to keep herself armed whenever possible out of some mix of paranoia and professionalism.
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Layla Rashmi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 54
Physical Description: An attractive woman, apparently in her middle thirties, with deep midnight blue eyes and thick, black hair that falls past her hips in a silken curtain. Almost reaching five feet tall, she has a strong, muscular frame and generous curves obvious even strapped down beneath plate armor. Her skin is smooth and pale like a porcelain doll, though she pinkens in the sun and freckles in the summer.
Her voice is a smoky contralto, calling to mind whispers in the night in its pitch and timbre regardless of the volume. She speaks with a rough accent, strongly implying a lowborn lineage and street education. The glint of razors strapped to her boots reinforces the image, despite her pleasant smile.
Braided into her hair so that it hangs below and just behind her left ear, and held in place with a column of deep blue beads, is a long feather, coal black on the back and banded black-and-white on the underside.
She walks with a choreographed grace, as though every step were a dance to music only she can hear, the jingling and clanking of her armor, spurs, and/or jewelry often playing audible percussion accompaniment.
Up close, one might notice the scent of the deep forest on her: leaves, rain, good soil, and wild roses. Beneath and behind, though not quite concealed by it, is the lingering smell of sweat, smoke, and blood.
Clothes and Equipment:
When out and about, Layla is most often seen in plate armor with a long, white, high-collared coat over it. Slung low on her left hip is a pair of massive hand-and-a-half swords, clearly a matching set, one with a guard and pommel in steel grey, the other trimmed in gold. On her right hip hangs a heavy steel warhammer.
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:59:46 GMT -8
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Post by Layla Rashmi on Aug 24, 2017 11:20:22 GMT -8
A soft sigh slipped from Layla’s lips as she stretched out in the bath. She had long held that there was no joy in all the worlds like a hot bath, and she still stood by it. If pressed, she would admit to some bias in that direction, but she also felt that, as a priestess of happiness, she was something of an expert on the matter.
“Once we get all settled in, I mean to rededicate that temple out there.” She called over to Circe, closing her eyes and leaning back. "It is a beautiful buildin’, an’ it is seems a awful shame to leave it just standin’ there empty. An’ if it really is cursed or whatever, that needs to be seen to sooner or later anyhow. Can’t have a cursed temple to forgotten gods standin’ right in the center of town like that.”
She lifted her toes out of the water and wriggled them slightly, then laughed and stretched out again. “You really should join me, darlin’. The best part of gettin’ caught in the rain is the hot bath at the end.”
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-Deleted-
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 23:19:14 GMT -8
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Post by -Deleted- on Aug 24, 2017 13:26:15 GMT -8
Circe paused when she heard Layla call after her. She let out a low sigh and stopped, shaking her head before walking over to join Layla by the bath. "If you say so. No reason not to, anyway.." It was clear she wasn't nearly as enthused about the idea of a bath as Layla - though that didn't mean she didn't enjoy it. If anything, it was more that she lacked enthusiasm for just about everything.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to do that? So soon, I mean. I hope you actually mean settled in when you say it.."
If Circe had her way, Layla would leave the temple, and anything outside the re-civilized places of Lhesa to someone else. It's not that she doubted her ability, but trying to keep her safe - and in check - was her job. Deep down, though, she realized that Layla would go ahead with her plans anyway, and it'd take someone far more persuasive than her to talk her out of it. In the end, all she could really do was try and help her with it.
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Layla Rashmi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 54
Physical Description: An attractive woman, apparently in her middle thirties, with deep midnight blue eyes and thick, black hair that falls past her hips in a silken curtain. Almost reaching five feet tall, she has a strong, muscular frame and generous curves obvious even strapped down beneath plate armor. Her skin is smooth and pale like a porcelain doll, though she pinkens in the sun and freckles in the summer.
Her voice is a smoky contralto, calling to mind whispers in the night in its pitch and timbre regardless of the volume. She speaks with a rough accent, strongly implying a lowborn lineage and street education. The glint of razors strapped to her boots reinforces the image, despite her pleasant smile.
Braided into her hair so that it hangs below and just behind her left ear, and held in place with a column of deep blue beads, is a long feather, coal black on the back and banded black-and-white on the underside.
She walks with a choreographed grace, as though every step were a dance to music only she can hear, the jingling and clanking of her armor, spurs, and/or jewelry often playing audible percussion accompaniment.
Up close, one might notice the scent of the deep forest on her: leaves, rain, good soil, and wild roses. Beneath and behind, though not quite concealed by it, is the lingering smell of sweat, smoke, and blood.
Clothes and Equipment:
When out and about, Layla is most often seen in plate armor with a long, white, high-collared coat over it. Slung low on her left hip is a pair of massive hand-and-a-half swords, clearly a matching set, one with a guard and pommel in steel grey, the other trimmed in gold. On her right hip hangs a heavy steel warhammer.
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:59:46 GMT -8
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Post by Layla Rashmi on Aug 24, 2017 13:51:37 GMT -8
“Well, if it really is cursed, the longer it sits, the more like it is to hurt someone, yeah?” She slowly sunk under the water, massaging her scalp and gently rinsing the sea spray from her long hair. The little priestess’s hair was thick and long and ridiculously high maintenance, but she only rarely considered cutting it short. And when she did consider it, she always chose not to.
After about half a minute, she surfaced again, pushing her hair back from her face, then pulling it forward over her shoulder to continue the gentle cleaning. “I set some men to watchin’ it, so no one stumbles over nothin’ just wanderin’ about. Problem is, you set a good guard on somethin’, an’ there’s some folks out there as gets to wonderin’ what they is guardin’ an’ how much it might be worth.”
Layla didn’t exactly hold thieves in high regard, but she knew the kind of lives most of them led. By and large, they were people with few options barely scraping by. The choice to turn to the stealing wasn’t one she condoned, but she did understand. “An’ there might be a way in we ain’t found yet, too. We don’t need no one unleashin’ somethin’ awful on the city on account we was sittin’ on our asses.”
“You is right, though. Rushin’ in blind ain’t like to be the best idea, neither. Better we should take our time. Get as much information as we can before goin’ in there. You hear what that Tavish fellow was sayin’? About folks as went in past the chapels gettin’ dragged off by some kind of bat demons?”
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-Deleted-
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 23:19:14 GMT -8
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Post by -Deleted- on Aug 24, 2017 14:31:29 GMT -8
"That's true, yeah.." Circe nodded and began pacing around the room, apparently forgetting about the bath entirely. She began mumbling to herself as she thought, occasionally glancing back toward Layla every few moments. "So.. no rushing, but something that needs to be taken care of much sooner than later, right? Do you have any sort of plan?"
After some time of this, she came to a stop, setting herself down in a chair off in the corner of the room as she continued to muse to herself and call her questions over to the woman. "Are we sure they're demons? That could be a lot more trouble than a few guards could deal with.."
Circe was familiar with demons - not enough to recognize the so called 'bat demons' from name or description alone, but enough to realize just how dire the situation was if there really were demons running around. She was hardly an expert, but past work had forced her to learn about fiends, enough for her to hope that it was all just hearsay. She shook her head again, trying to dismiss the thought. "I'll trust your judgement."
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Layla Rashmi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 54
Physical Description: An attractive woman, apparently in her middle thirties, with deep midnight blue eyes and thick, black hair that falls past her hips in a silken curtain. Almost reaching five feet tall, she has a strong, muscular frame and generous curves obvious even strapped down beneath plate armor. Her skin is smooth and pale like a porcelain doll, though she pinkens in the sun and freckles in the summer.
Her voice is a smoky contralto, calling to mind whispers in the night in its pitch and timbre regardless of the volume. She speaks with a rough accent, strongly implying a lowborn lineage and street education. The glint of razors strapped to her boots reinforces the image, despite her pleasant smile.
Braided into her hair so that it hangs below and just behind her left ear, and held in place with a column of deep blue beads, is a long feather, coal black on the back and banded black-and-white on the underside.
She walks with a choreographed grace, as though every step were a dance to music only she can hear, the jingling and clanking of her armor, spurs, and/or jewelry often playing audible percussion accompaniment.
Up close, one might notice the scent of the deep forest on her: leaves, rain, good soil, and wild roses. Beneath and behind, though not quite concealed by it, is the lingering smell of sweat, smoke, and blood.
Clothes and Equipment:
When out and about, Layla is most often seen in plate armor with a long, white, high-collared coat over it. Slung low on her left hip is a pair of massive hand-and-a-half swords, clearly a matching set, one with a guard and pommel in steel grey, the other trimmed in gold. On her right hip hangs a heavy steel warhammer.
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:59:46 GMT -8
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Post by Layla Rashmi on Aug 24, 2017 16:39:49 GMT -8
“My plan is to see what I can learn first. Walkin’ in with eyes open an’ good knowledge of the situation as much as possible.” Layla sighed and leaned back again, letting the heat seep deep into her muscles as she spoke. “Which ain’t much, but better than nothin’.”
She wasn’t overly fond of books and studying, in general, but Layla had to admit that they had their place. Sometimes, it was the best, or only, source of the information you needed. So she would be gathering whatever writings on the subject she could find before going in there.
She looked over to Circe and shook her head. “No, we aint’ sure they is demons at all. Or if they is still there. Or if they was ever there. Or if any part of it is real. All I got is a secondhand translation of a translation from Mister Tavish. Bastão, or somesuch. He called ‘em bat demons. Anyhow, seemed a good reason to keep folks from muckin’ about in the place until we knowed more, at least.”
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-Deleted-
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 23:19:14 GMT -8
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Post by -Deleted- on Aug 25, 2017 13:34:16 GMT -8
"On the off chance any of it is true, it's better safe than sorry. At the very least, the idea of something like that could keep some people away.."
Circe was the more studious of the two, but that didn't mean a whole lot when her preferred topics often had nothing to do with the troubles at hand, and even then, it wasn't as though she was some great scholar anyway. Not that it mattered in the first place, she lacked the sort of connections to whatever more esoteric things she'd need to study to know about this situation - or rather, it was Layla who had those connections instead.
"I guess it looks pretty. Either way, I can see it causing some problems if it's not maintained. You put a claim on it and people get hurt, they're gonna start blaming you for it.."
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House Rashmi
New
The Mountain Endures
Roleplay posts: 5
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:38:25 GMT -8
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Post by House Rashmi on Aug 25, 2017 17:21:07 GMT -8
Exasperated was exactly the word to describe much of the staff much of the time. Fondly exasperated, but exasperated. Layla was never malicious or deliberately hurtful towards any of them, but she was so often cheerfully careless that they sometimes felt more like they were looking after her than working for her.
If she wasn’t tracking in water, she was scuffing and gouging the floors and furniture with her heavy boots. Or worse, trying to help in the kitchen. The entire kitchen staff lived in terror of the times that Layla would try to cook something, or even put the kettle on.
But for all that, the mistress of the house was almost universally adored. Not that she would ever let them call her that. Those who had been in her employ for some time all called her by her name, as she had insisted at the time. More recently, many had taken to calling her “Nonna Layla” as the children did.
The news that the rest of the family would be coming soon set off a flurry of activity in the house. The twins were an endless stream of jokes and pranks that were all meant in good fun, but also represented a great deal of extra work often enough.the children were generally given their heads and let loose to do as they wished. Again, there wasn’t an ounce of malice between them… but there were ten of them. Ten children all in the house running loose warranted a great deal of preparation.
While Layla and Circe were chatting away upstairs, the staff quietly began a flurry of activity to prepare for the imminent invasion.
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Layla Rashmi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 54
Physical Description: An attractive woman, apparently in her middle thirties, with deep midnight blue eyes and thick, black hair that falls past her hips in a silken curtain. Almost reaching five feet tall, she has a strong, muscular frame and generous curves obvious even strapped down beneath plate armor. Her skin is smooth and pale like a porcelain doll, though she pinkens in the sun and freckles in the summer.
Her voice is a smoky contralto, calling to mind whispers in the night in its pitch and timbre regardless of the volume. She speaks with a rough accent, strongly implying a lowborn lineage and street education. The glint of razors strapped to her boots reinforces the image, despite her pleasant smile.
Braided into her hair so that it hangs below and just behind her left ear, and held in place with a column of deep blue beads, is a long feather, coal black on the back and banded black-and-white on the underside.
She walks with a choreographed grace, as though every step were a dance to music only she can hear, the jingling and clanking of her armor, spurs, and/or jewelry often playing audible percussion accompaniment.
Up close, one might notice the scent of the deep forest on her: leaves, rain, good soil, and wild roses. Beneath and behind, though not quite concealed by it, is the lingering smell of sweat, smoke, and blood.
Clothes and Equipment:
When out and about, Layla is most often seen in plate armor with a long, white, high-collared coat over it. Slung low on her left hip is a pair of massive hand-and-a-half swords, clearly a matching set, one with a guard and pommel in steel grey, the other trimmed in gold. On her right hip hangs a heavy steel warhammer.
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:59:46 GMT -8
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Post by Layla Rashmi on Aug 26, 2017 8:18:52 GMT -8
The next morning, Layla got up early to begin what research she could. Given free rein and no responsibilities, she was the sort that would stay up so late that it should properly be called early, sleep through most of the morning, then laze about in bed for several hours more. But despite outward appearances and general habits of goofing off, she was a creature of iron discipline when the situation called for it. Of course, her morning routine, usually not actually performed until nearly lunch, would probably give that away to anyone that witnessed it.
Layla started her days with dance practice.
Which is not to say that she skipped around the house humming to herself. She did, but that was just how she got from one room to another. Dance practice was something different. Layla was a dedicated dancer, and had been for nearly her entire life. Dance was her first love, and the passion had never faded.
When she danced for others, she made it look easy, effortless, like something anyone could do if they only stopped worrying and left the music in. When she danced for her goddess, she gave herself wholly to the moment, and became a creature of whimsy and grace, without a care in world. But when she danced for herself, Layla drove herself to perfection.
It was not enough that she could perform a dance. She must be able to perform it mirrored as well. She must be able to perform it forwards and backwards. She must be able to perform it so fast that her feet were a blur moving across the floor. She must be able to perform it so slow that she remained balanced on one foot in seemingly impossible poses for minutes at a time.
She pushed herself to the absolute limits of human potential. Some might even say beyond. She performed feats of balance and flexibility that could easily have earned her a reputation as one of the great circus performers, and she did it all with a nearly supernatural grace.
Then, she gathered up a stack of books and scrolls, stretched out in a hot bath, and began to read.
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-Deleted-
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 23:19:14 GMT -8
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Post by -Deleted- on Aug 26, 2017 11:06:56 GMT -8
Circe's mornings started far differently.
Rather than the sorts of exercises and warmups one would expect from the sort of person who arms themselves to the teeth in their day-to-day life, she starts out far quieter. Her morning rituals begin with her finding herself a quiet room, often away from the others if she can, and once she's done, she offers a prayer.
She didn't share Layla's faith, and even if she did, it's unlikely she'd worship in the same way. Whatever nonsense and distractions happened later in the day, she made a point that things wouldn't interfere with her morning prayers. Her own faith was something deeply personal to her, to the point that most who asked were unlikely to get a straight answer out of her, if not be dismissed entirely. It wasn't malice or secrecy that caused this, rather she knew it was something those around her were unlikely to share. Her second order of business was to meditate. To the average onlooker, they'd see nothing different from before, and many might think she was just sitting there by herself.
She had understood the idea of meditation for quite a long time, but had only begun trying in earnest a few years ago. The act was relaxing for her, and while it certainly didn't cause her to achieve enlightenment or inner peace, she enjoyed her time doing so, taking it as an opportunity to reflect. She thought that it helped to keep things in perspective, and that using the time to look inward was a better use of it than practicing with a sword.
When all was said and done, however, she did work into a bit of light exercise.
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Layla Rashmi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 54
Physical Description: An attractive woman, apparently in her middle thirties, with deep midnight blue eyes and thick, black hair that falls past her hips in a silken curtain. Almost reaching five feet tall, she has a strong, muscular frame and generous curves obvious even strapped down beneath plate armor. Her skin is smooth and pale like a porcelain doll, though she pinkens in the sun and freckles in the summer.
Her voice is a smoky contralto, calling to mind whispers in the night in its pitch and timbre regardless of the volume. She speaks with a rough accent, strongly implying a lowborn lineage and street education. The glint of razors strapped to her boots reinforces the image, despite her pleasant smile.
Braided into her hair so that it hangs below and just behind her left ear, and held in place with a column of deep blue beads, is a long feather, coal black on the back and banded black-and-white on the underside.
She walks with a choreographed grace, as though every step were a dance to music only she can hear, the jingling and clanking of her armor, spurs, and/or jewelry often playing audible percussion accompaniment.
Up close, one might notice the scent of the deep forest on her: leaves, rain, good soil, and wild roses. Beneath and behind, though not quite concealed by it, is the lingering smell of sweat, smoke, and blood.
Clothes and Equipment:
When out and about, Layla is most often seen in plate armor with a long, white, high-collared coat over it. Slung low on her left hip is a pair of massive hand-and-a-half swords, clearly a matching set, one with a guard and pommel in steel grey, the other trimmed in gold. On her right hip hangs a heavy steel warhammer.
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:59:46 GMT -8
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Post by Layla Rashmi on Aug 26, 2017 20:41:05 GMT -8
She worked well into the day, taking breakfast, and then lunch at her desk. It was unusual for her to spend so much time at it since Edmund Rashmi had taken over most of the bookwork for the family business. But when a project got her attention, it could sometimes hold her focus for a surprisingly long time. It was late in the afternoon,almost evening, really, when she came charging away from her desk, searching for -Deleted- and waving around a handful of papers. “Look, look! I don’t think they is proper demons at all. They was some kind of temple guard. I found a thing here… Translation of a report of a copy of a translation, but the original was wrote by a soldier as survived a failed invasion, yeah?” Layla held out the document, pointing at what she was talking about. “See here where they broke in the gate in? They was pushin’ back the defenders, into the city, like. Then the temple guards rushed into the gap. See what it says?” Her index finger pointed out the words to Circe as she read them aloud. The temple guard charged the line, and it was like the gates of Hell had broken open. I have seen dozens of battles in dozens of lands, but never have seen such as they, before or since. They could not be harmed by blade or bow. Our weapons were a feathers against them. Our armor could not protect us. The blows of the bastão crumpled helms and armor, crushing the men beneath. We had only one choice. Flee, or die.
“Does that sound like demons to you? No magic, no flames, no claws or horns or fangs. No wings. What kind of bat demon ain’t got wings?” The looked to Circe with a wide smile. “I think they is some kind of golem or the like. If they is, might be we can control ‘em.” |
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-Deleted-
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 23:19:14 GMT -8
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Post by -Deleted- on Aug 27, 2017 10:14:03 GMT -8
With Layla occupied, Circe spend her time elsewhere. She took the opportunity to perform basic combat drills - something she rarely spent time on nowadays. She'd given up on pointless fighting quite some time ago, and as the years went on found herself in fights less and less often. All this talk of jungles and demons, however, motivated her to try and keep in physical shape, if only to better do her job. Of course, that was only a small amount of her free time, and she eventually found herself in the kitchen helping the staff.
Circe was far from a chef, and the things she cooked were edible, if not palatable, though oddly enough she was a gifted baker. She'd been baking since she was a child, on and off for over two centuries, and certainly far longer than she knew how to swing a sword properly, let alone understand the concept of meditation, so it was hard to say if it was talent or simply practice. Whatever the case, she filled the rest of her free time preparing a number of treats for the rest of the family for when they'd arrive.
Thankfully - for the stay, at least - Circe was well out of the kitchen when Layla caught up with her again. She listened to the woman's explanation intently, her expression growing more severe as she continued. "Are you certain that's a good idea? Do we know how many of them there are? For all we know there's some crazy wizard holed up in the temple just waiting to drive everyone off."
The description of the "demon" didn't seem to match any that Circe had seen or heard of before, but she was typically cautious, bordering on paranoia. If they really were golems, that raised many new concerns for her.
"And even if they're golems, how can we be sure they're even still working right? Might be that they're all broken now, or whatever was used to control them doesn't work anymore.."
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Layla Rashmi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 54
Physical Description: An attractive woman, apparently in her middle thirties, with deep midnight blue eyes and thick, black hair that falls past her hips in a silken curtain. Almost reaching five feet tall, she has a strong, muscular frame and generous curves obvious even strapped down beneath plate armor. Her skin is smooth and pale like a porcelain doll, though she pinkens in the sun and freckles in the summer.
Her voice is a smoky contralto, calling to mind whispers in the night in its pitch and timbre regardless of the volume. She speaks with a rough accent, strongly implying a lowborn lineage and street education. The glint of razors strapped to her boots reinforces the image, despite her pleasant smile.
Braided into her hair so that it hangs below and just behind her left ear, and held in place with a column of deep blue beads, is a long feather, coal black on the back and banded black-and-white on the underside.
She walks with a choreographed grace, as though every step were a dance to music only she can hear, the jingling and clanking of her armor, spurs, and/or jewelry often playing audible percussion accompaniment.
Up close, one might notice the scent of the deep forest on her: leaves, rain, good soil, and wild roses. Beneath and behind, though not quite concealed by it, is the lingering smell of sweat, smoke, and blood.
Clothes and Equipment:
When out and about, Layla is most often seen in plate armor with a long, white, high-collared coat over it. Slung low on her left hip is a pair of massive hand-and-a-half swords, clearly a matching set, one with a guard and pommel in steel grey, the other trimmed in gold. On her right hip hangs a heavy steel warhammer.
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:59:46 GMT -8
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Post by Layla Rashmi on Aug 27, 2017 11:37:17 GMT -8
Layla shook her head, then leaned over and stole a kiss, briefly pressing her lips to Circe’s. “No idea. If they is golems, an’ they is broke or whatever, then our work was already done for us. If they is gone out of control, or they is controlled by some mad wizard that’s been holed up in there for centuries, then we is still in the same place. It might be dangerous, an’ we should see what we can do before someone gets hurt. If they is gone quiet an’ just stand there, then should probably see about takin’ ‘em down an’ destroyin’ ‘em to be safe.”
She waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the temple and leaned her head on Circe’s shoulder as she spoke. “An’ they might somethin’ else entirely. Might be they left when ever’body else did an’ there’s no one guardin’ it no more. Might be they is undead or somethin’...”
Layla furrowed her brow for a moment, then looked up at Circe again. “It only says they come for folks as go deeper into the temple, yeah? I mean, folks has got to go in in to hear the sermons an’ to do their ceremonies an’ all… So we only go into the chapel to start. See if maybe there is somethin’ there can give us more information. Might even see what we is up against. What do you think?”
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-Deleted-
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 23:19:14 GMT -8
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Post by -Deleted- on Aug 27, 2017 12:01:51 GMT -8
"If there really is something, and it really is grabbing people, it'd be.. wrong to just let it keep doing that.."
Circe wasn't particularly receptive to the kiss - which isn't to say she leaned away or try to stop Layla, simply that the gesture seemed to make her slightly uncomfortable. Of course, that discomfort showed itself whenever almost any sort of closeness was involved. Whatever the case, she didn't seem to truly dislike it.
As pragmatic as she tried to be, she agreed that it was best to do something. If it was just them, she'd likely suggest heading off and leaving the place alone, but now that people had come back to try and settle the area, she believed that it would be on them if they refused to do anything about the situation. "..If they're undead, shouldn't that make it easier? We'd have some idea what to do, I mean.. Alright. As long as we take it slow, yeah? Not that we're gonna just rush in there, anyway.."
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Layla Rashmi
Committed
Roleplay posts: 54
Physical Description: An attractive woman, apparently in her middle thirties, with deep midnight blue eyes and thick, black hair that falls past her hips in a silken curtain. Almost reaching five feet tall, she has a strong, muscular frame and generous curves obvious even strapped down beneath plate armor. Her skin is smooth and pale like a porcelain doll, though she pinkens in the sun and freckles in the summer.
Her voice is a smoky contralto, calling to mind whispers in the night in its pitch and timbre regardless of the volume. She speaks with a rough accent, strongly implying a lowborn lineage and street education. The glint of razors strapped to her boots reinforces the image, despite her pleasant smile.
Braided into her hair so that it hangs below and just behind her left ear, and held in place with a column of deep blue beads, is a long feather, coal black on the back and banded black-and-white on the underside.
She walks with a choreographed grace, as though every step were a dance to music only she can hear, the jingling and clanking of her armor, spurs, and/or jewelry often playing audible percussion accompaniment.
Up close, one might notice the scent of the deep forest on her: leaves, rain, good soil, and wild roses. Beneath and behind, though not quite concealed by it, is the lingering smell of sweat, smoke, and blood.
Clothes and Equipment:
When out and about, Layla is most often seen in plate armor with a long, white, high-collared coat over it. Slung low on her left hip is a pair of massive hand-and-a-half swords, clearly a matching set, one with a guard and pommel in steel grey, the other trimmed in gold. On her right hip hangs a heavy steel warhammer.
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 19:59:46 GMT -8
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Post by Layla Rashmi on Aug 27, 2017 12:26:06 GMT -8
“Yes, of course.” She nodded and pressed close. If Circe’s failure to return affections immediately put her off at all, she didn’t show it. After so many years, the two had gotten more or less used to dealing with each other’s quirks. “We will take our time about it. Keep lookin’ in all these books an’ papers to see if there is anythin’ else to learn. Then we will go in little scoutin’ sorties before we decide how to handle things.”
There was a part of her that was screaming to kick in the door, sword in hand, and clear the place out today. But it might turn out to be a much bigger project than she anticipated, and running in blind needlessly would be incredibly unwise. It was something of a struggle for her not to rush off and do it herself right away, just as it had been a struggle not to rush off to find the island herself in the first place.
Fortunately, she did have other places she could channel that energy at the moment. She would probably be up into the wee hours researching and looking for more information on the temple and its guardians, for example. Taking a break for a while was probably a good idea, but Layla was pressed up against someone she treasured already.
All of which passed through the priestess’s mind in a fraction of a second, with very little of it actually taking the form of conscious thought before her hands started to wander…
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-Deleted-
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Registered: Jul 18, 2017 23:19:14 GMT -8
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Post by -Deleted- on Aug 28, 2017 6:04:07 GMT -8
It wasn't as though she really disliked the affection - though getting her to admit to enjoying anything was a nigh-sisyphean struggle - rather Circe, even after all this time, wasn't entirely sure how to react, and even when she did, she had always been reluctant about showing it. "That's for the best. Anything we don't know is just another chance for it to go wrong."
For all her other habits and beliefs, Circe was quick to adopt a Scorched Earth policy when it came to these things. If she thought she could get away with it, she'd suggest collapsing the temple with the "demons" still inside. But Layla had made up her mind about clearing it out properly, so she knew it'd be a losing battle to convince her. She was already thankful the woman was willing to take her time on the project.
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