<blockquote>ooc. Mia 3rd, 81381. Private for Dumu. ic. Arsenic Strychnine was shocking. Incredible posture, wearing black trousers, inky leather dress shoes, and a buckled gray peacoat with a matching cashmere scarf over his astounding stone and tangerine-colored pelt – like the finest lines drawn by the most optimistic and even hand – like the most precise machines covered in the finest furs. The fashion designer was currently in his main store in Aurius, hissing at the bad management while hordes of cameras and fans began to seep into the building. "You," he hissed, narrowing his blue eyes, pointing one ink-clawed finger at the manager. He had the sort of eyelashes, black and shaped like bat’s wings, that implied he was wearing eyeliner. "I don’t want you here anymore. Go find somewhere else to work." He longed to go outside – it was a blue sea and broken murkiness and brittle sunlight, but the chorus of four-hundred voices began to agitate the air. Already, the media was beginning to crowd him with questions. </blockquote>
<table width=495px" cellpadding=3 cellspacing=10 bgcolor=#060606 style="border-left:1px #1a1a1a solid; border-top:1px #1a1a1a solid; border-right:1px #2f2f2f solid; border-bottom:1px #2f2f2f solid"><tr><td></img><font face="verdena"><font size="2"> If the tug on her arm wasn't enough to make her move, then the mad hustling and bustling of frenzied residents certainly jostled her in the right direction. The strange excitement that floated about the 'porter station platform was akin to a 'do-or-die' moment. Indeed as was the young Dhampire's escort. Jasmyn Sedisha – Jaydi as she preferred, and most assertively informed whomsoever may hail her otherwise – frantically scouted the platform for gaps through to head the crowd, gripping firmly to Shanu's arm. It was all quite amazingly manic. The majority of the words being tossed around in the air were mostly indecipherable – apart from 'Hearse' and 'Strychnine' – neither of which rang a familiar bell in Shanu's mind, but her pastel wood toned escort had picked up on the scent of something obviously very important. Thin, wall mounted, vertical lamps over-dramatised the madness as each body rushed passed off the platform, casting larger silhouettes against distant silver walls; which teemed with electronic acid green beads, chasing one another along the full length of the walls. Similarly coloured lights shot upwards every ten meters or so. All remained between two black bands. Another sudden jerk wrenched Shanu through a series of small and large gaps, as though executed with military precision. It was the Royal Blue Femme's carefree attitude that ended up befriending Jasmyn, despite Jaydi being eighteen. Her stiff upbringing made her usually hard to get to, yet easy to push through the aimlessness before them. <span style='color:yellow'>"'Kay... Whoa!"</span> Jaydi tugged her down under a low wall to cut past the bags, flailing arms and screaming thills and nioties – some dragging young Ardens along. The concrete wall dripped and oozed ice. The smallest breeze blew the cutting new air into Shanu's lungs... She loved it. Water. Cold or hot; it was her calling. She would have reached out to touch its glistening surface if she wasn't being hurried at speed by someone who appeared to know Aurius like the back of her paw. The Dhampire's tail lagged behind her, following their every twist and turn – as if learning infallibly from its owner's slight trips and stumbles. The voices, the sounds of running, they all faded away under a curtain of iron and stone. The semi-natural tunnel used to act as a sewer before their times, but had since been cleaned up and sealed from the above. Instead, large walkways, shopping centres and meagre stalls stood tall fifteen feet above them. Delayed hammering hummed down the long tunnel until it was no more than a memory daring to surface once more. <span style='color:yellow'>"Jaydi! Hearse? Strychnine? How come everyone's rushing around?"</span> <span style='color:orange'>"If y'dunno yet, y'gunna find out purdy soon, girl."</span> The sound of thumping rose again as they passed under wide gratings. Thick, wide bars of white gold sunlight burst through on to their pelts, burning striped patterns into their vision. The most they could do was to peer into the darkness and pray the gaps in their vision – courtesy of the metal bars of the gratings – would allow them to run the dry, sandy course. With each pass, the sound roared and subsided again. Roared and subsided. Roared and subsided. This happened probably once every five seconds. They were ready. Shanu prepared herself off the certainty in Jaydi's aura. The light illuminated sections of the tubular tunnel for as far as they could see, picking out the finer details of the dusty grey walls and how it curved when it met the ground. The high pitched squeal of a loud speaker wailed through the air as they popped out into the blinding Mia sun. A handful of armoured officers pushed a number of more rowdy residents and tourists back onto their hind quarters for being too confrontational, while a Thill some years Jaydi's senior rolled out red tape between two masts. Shanu didn't look back, especially seeing as how one of the armoured Ardens had caught sight of the pair rejoining the back of the first wave. The letter 'H'. It made her scream to herself. Shanu backed off from her mind. This Arsenic person was the subject of so much hype? <span style='color:yellow'>'How it would suck to be him, I think.'</span> How could one person be so frighteningly important enough for all these people to lose their common sense? "Go find somewhere else to work." Her petite ears shot up to the (although a little muted) voice of confidence. Shanu came to a halt having pushed her way through a handful of Pendragons. There was almost nowhere else to go. 'HEARSE' hung high above her head in stylized typography – recognizable yet clearly artistic. A mark of some excellence. It was the feeling Shanu got from it. And while the atmosphere in the store itself didn't quite reflect the same level of excellence, she could sense the style had Thills in mind. She herself felt a mild sense of familiarity with the underlying heart that went into making Hearse what it was. All of which temporarily paled into insignificance with the endless snapping and flashing of cameras. It was like a techno rave club in broad daylight – as lightly cerulean tinted as it was. It threatened to turn blisteringly cold. An arm snaked around Shanu's, gripping tighter in anticipation... or trepidation. Deep purple eyes darted around, past, through and above the crowding heads, her head likewise dodging left and right, extending and dipping to get the best vantage point. An exasperated huff emphasized by a sharp shrug pulled Shanu off balance again to her left. Jaydi was going to find her way through whether they all liked it or not. <span style='color:orange'>"Y'nevah getten m'way..."</span> Scheming eyes cut a line between two Thills waving their arms in the air. There was still much distance to make to make it to the front. As they navigated the cooled shop floor, the older of the two Thill took umbrage at Shanu pushing so rudely and brought her elbow down atop her crown. The junior Amsési halted in place, pinning Jaydi in her tracks, whose arm was quickly loosened and freed by one deft blue paw. Crystal blue oculi swung around at the equally tall resident. She was wearing a white beret and large, brown tinted sunglasses. Her friend sniggered in her shadow. Shanu briefly cocked her head to one side. For some reason it felt to her that there were no obstructions; the golden highlighted niotie casually retraced the four feet or so until she was close. A smug, daring smile plastered itself over the questionably fashionable hussy's face, her friend now looking a bit less amused – clearly she was an invertebrate, and such a sight she was too that Shanu may have been honoured with the discovery of a new subspecies. Shanu's soft eyes melted back into their natural pearlescent blend of depth and brightness. A paw came up and lightly tapped on the Thill's maw. <span style='color:yellow'>"I see Gid."</span> Her ever infectious smile, naïve smile surfaced as she turned to rejoin Jaydi. It seemed, though, that they could go no further. A handful of eyes around them both slowly reconnected on Arsenic. The blatant contrast of this prize suddenly popped into view when someone in front shifted forward. The space was quickly occupied by the duo – their distance still some ways back from Jaydi's desired location, but now it would have to do. Jaydi never really gave Shanu a good look before the were running for the platform. She wasn't exactly a fashionable lass, and never went out of her way to pick clothes for the sake of the brand or rep. Shanu just wore clothes she liked – no more, no less. If they weren't comfortable enough, she simply wouldn't wear them. But just because of her natural common sense approach, it didn't mean she hadn't an interest in less than fully covered clothes. She wasn't against leading the imagination, but not so much as to advocate a desire for discovery. Quot erat demonstrandum, the young Dhampire donned a pair of casual black cargo trousers with three large pockets – the two primary pockets located more to the front, and the other four extending down the sides of the legs. Frayed draw strings trailed behind her. A black, top waterproof lined pull-over, hooded, jacket fitted to just compliment her curvature, with its left collar turned skywards. It was the most stubborn part of the whole fabric. A calligraphic blue and gold 'S' was embroidered over the top of a silver 'A' of the same font face, on the left chest. She had it unzipped, exposing the smallest amount of her midriff under a white cotton and polyester t-shirt with quarter length sleeves. Dark electric blue bands highlighted the hem and sleeves, and up her sides under her arms. A black, tribal star with twelve points sat at the top middle, just below the neck line. Her boots were none too special. They just rose comfortably enough to support her ankles. They were a mixture of real leather, rubber and woven cloth for added effect. It had little silver eyes – eight of them – and an amply padded tongue that sprung back up when she undid the laces. There weren't any markings of which to speak. The interior was cushioned in light grey cotton. When she picked them, she was even more attracted to the thick, deep and wide treads. Probably the most interesting of her entire attire was her belt. It didn't break the black trend, but it was wide – two inches wide to be exact. The buckle was deceptively light plated silver. It was a little tacky, yet retained some shine. It's impurity wasn't too noticeable to the common eye. The belt itself was designed for the smaller build female. Shanu though kept it around midway. Thirty-two to thirty-four inches was just right for her. It was her size, and that's all she wanted. Nervous staff members tended to some customers, all the while casting uncertain eyes over their shoulders to see if their boss was watching them. A puzzled look quickly etched itself in her inquisitive eyes, reflected only slightly through her gentle face. <span style='color:yellow'>"'Kay... who's he?"</span> <tag /></td></tr></table></font face></font size>
<blockquote>Dylan looked outside the window, his hands periodically clenching and unclenching as he watched chaos pour into the room. Sunets like the one outside - steadily turning the water outside Aurius from blue to black - were always unbearable for him down there. The colors were intensified to glittering turquoise, and the sun tearing down into the ocean deep turned raw, cannibalistic, fanged and blooded as the drooling demon of day sunk its teeth into that of the night. It was too bright, too wild. It reminded him of Candrice, for some odd reason. An odd pride steeled him to stand where he was, eyes steadily scanning the crowd. Koani's voice and words still sung in him like some ancient hymn which could live on its own forever among the glades and arbors of old mountains, black forests, the waves of dead seas, places still untouched by progression. "I can't, Dyl. Ine, I... I don't think I can do this. It almost sounds as if you're speaking of a parallel world. Someplace soft and warm, where bad things never happen. That sort of thing can't exist... not here, not now. Please just... just be my friend? I don't want to lose you." His razor-toothed jaws clenched as he fought to still the steady onslaught of memories. But anyone who tried to box and bury her soul would be cast in his ire and would perish. Only those who stood by her would be warmly remembered and blessed. "I still love you," he muttered under his breath as he began to answer a few of the reporter's questions. It wasn't often at all that he was caught in public, and he hadn't confronted the media in a while - they had caught him off his guard. His eye caught on a well-dressed young girl, and he moved forward in an attempt to avoid the reporters. Sauntering forth, he kept his eyes on her, gently pushing aside a few employees in the attempt to reach the girl. "Sorry - " he began. He drew her forward, gently grabbing her by the shoulders and bringing her to the back of the store. " - but I couldnÂ’t help but to notice that you have wonderful dress sense. I positively loathe those reporters," he said, his electric-blue eyes meeting hers. "My name is Arsenic Strychnine, if you didn't know." He nodded once curtly, a half-grin growing across one side of his face.</blockquote>
<table width=495px" cellpadding=3 cellspacing=10 bgcolor=#060606 style="border-left:1px #1a1a1a solid; border-top:1px #1a1a1a solid; border-right:1px #2f2f2f solid; border-bottom:1px #2f2f2f solid"><tr><td></img><font face="verdena"><font size="2"> <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Thanks, lass.</td></tr></table> Jaydi shot the fashion-less Thill a broad glare, laced with superficial contempt. Her large violaceous eyes had turned many a 'dragon to stone where they stood by the sheer fact her eyes looked so cold and sinister; a trait she picked up throughout her many, recent, difficult years. Memories still haunted Jaydi – which, itself, wasn't apparent. The affect on her, though – and how it seemed to naturally splice pride – was obvious. <span style='color:orange'>"Ye',"</span> A cream splashed ochre paw rose to ensnare Shanu; to push through that little bit further would take a lot of effort – something away from which Jaydi would never shy. 'Twas a challenge... ... That Arsenic denied her. Shanu spied the Arden; from the moment he came into view to the point he reached out to her and guided her through. She willingly stepped out from the crowd remembering Jaydi's words, “<span style='color:orange'>Y'don' touch'em. No'un touches'em. He ain' touchab'e.</span>". A deep feeling in her gut told her that he wasn't moving in her direction for anyone else. Some may say she had Whis in her stomach from the excitement. Maybe it was more tangible than nerves; instincts perhaps. That detail shrank into insignificance because speculation had no place next to facts. The instant Arsenic's finger tips brushed against her shoulder, she knew for sure. That level of certainty compounded one other thing. Despite Jaydi being squashed in a tide of shoppers, tourists and reporters, Shanu at least had succeeded meeting (excluding for the moment coming in contact with) this fashion legend! The clattering, shuffling and mad flurry of questions being thrown around were swiftly consumed by thick dividing walls at the rear of the store, leaving nothing more than a confused, desperate murmur. "My name is Arsenic Strychnine," the young, royal blue Dhampire blinked a couple times in quick succession. <span style='color:yellow'>"Uh, ty iyo'ja Special'ba, iat?"</span> Shanu replied with a similar smile. A flicker of mischief coiled in her crystal blues, soon more narrowly framed by her trademark golden tribal highlights. She moistened her upper lip before adopting the accent, <span style='color:yellow'>"Uja iyo engyjsums?"</span> Shanu cast her eyes around to a work surface behind her. A step or two away. She backed up against it, stuffing her paws loosely into her jacket pockets and cocked her head fractionally off one side; legs crossed – the toe of her right boot over her left set her posture. It was perfectly natural for her to adopt this stance, even with total strangers. <tag /></td></tr></table></font face></font size>
<blockquote>He felt like a ghost, living like this, alone and cold, pale as a sheet of cellophane. If he walked through the winter back home dressed like this, would a sudden squall of snow fill in his outline, make him look like those ghosts in the Sunday cartoons? White on white, the ghost in the snow, more visible than before and yet still invisible, Arsenic was an attractive illusion, and little more - a shade, a specter, a shadow without a person, putting up appearances in order to live what seemed like a normal life. "Am I special?" he mused quietly, and then responded, cocking his head, "I don't particularly think so. I have money, and a position in society, but I don't think there's much that really separates me from the norm." He shrugged, tossing her a smile. "And you? Do you think you're special?"</blockquote>
<table width=495px" cellpadding=3 cellspacing=10 bgcolor=#060606 style="border-left:1px #1a1a1a solid; border-top:1px #1a1a1a solid; border-right:1px #2f2f2f solid; border-bottom:1px #2f2f2f solid"><tr><td></img><font face="verdena"><font size="2"> <font color="white"'Am I special?' With her hands firmly planted in her jackets wells; searching, they reached back to the surface edge, pulling the bottom half of her jacket away for a moment or two. Her palms securely pushed down against the heavy unit. Not so much as a creak sounded to conflict with the rustling of her fine clothes. She lifted herself up onto it, crossing her feet in opposition to before - left over right, hooking her heel in her instep. After Shanu was comfortably seated, her hands - jacket in tow - met mid thigh. Shanu caught his smile in her stride. 'How modest.' <font color="yellow">"I? Strychnine'ba, I am surprised that you should not know of me. It is then, as I see it, quite fortuitous our meeting. Had fate any part to play, I would surely accuse it of sneaky..."</color> <font color="white"> Shanu hesitated for a second, probing her mind for a word her brother had used. Struggling to hold this line; the perfect word popped into her mind! She licked her lips to make it seem as though her pause was more of sincere consideration for the accuracy of her words.</color> <font color="yellow"> "...of abstruse inter-meddling. I am no less here, and no less obliged to introduce myself,"</color> <font color="white"> Shanu pushed herself from her perch and, with some grace, shortened the measurable gap to but only mere feet. Her outstretched paw capped her act.</font> <font color="yellow">"Shanu Amsési, heir to the throne of the Empire of Whis and consult to the Chamber of Wonders; spokesThill for all things Vivuli-ey..."</color> <font color="white">Shanu's eyes shot left, down, right then fixed back on Arsenic's.</color> <font color="yellow">"Ish. So let's have it."</color> <font color="white">Her soft, cheeky smile punctuated her spiel. <tag /></td></tr></table></font face></font size>
<blockquote>Dy tossed his head a little, throwing a spray of glossy, tri-colored across his eyes; another jerk and his eyes were free to stare heatedly down at the young thill. The lukuo then looked up at the sea around them, so pale it looked as it someone had flung bleach at it and then whited-out the bruised grays and blues of the water. His tail wrapped around one toothpick-thin leg in a cursory gesture, his near-exoskeletal hands intertwined before him - all broad, knotted knuckles and shimmering rings. He tugged at the hem of his coat, and then spoke in a deep, subwoofer-rivaling purr - "no, no, Shanu - I haven't heard of you. I'm sorry." A contemplative smile curled over his dark lips, and he took the girl's paw in his own calloused hand - railroaded with scars from shattered glass, fingertips dark with ink-stains. Dyl snorted in near-derision, and then laid back against a wall with all the lean, supple grace of a polecat, resting his subtly-cocked head against his broad hands. "Have what, lessla yma?" he queried, brow tightening with a delicate mixture of amusement and confusion, both fighting for domination in the depths of his electric-cyan eyes.
<table width=495px" cellpadding=3 cellspacing=10 bgcolor=#060606 style="border-left:1px #1a1a1a solid; border-top:1px #1a1a1a solid; border-right:1px #2f2f2f solid; border-bottom:1px #2f2f2f solid"><tr><td></img><font face="verdena"> <font color="white">Well well, Arsenic sure liked to play, yet he did it so coyly, so - humbly. The little-Dhampire allowed him to take her paw, sort of to see what he would do. The sense she got from him was that he liked to throw himself in deeply before getting to know a Thill. That kind of tactic was often times dangerous and potentially foolhardy. Or was it all the inner-workings of something more perverse? For one, Shanu couldn't pick up any demented vibrations from this renown idol or sorts, but she couldn't help but feel he was after something... She watched him intently; the Junior Amsési's tribal eyes flickered mischievously under the glimmering ambience. A small smile teased at the corner of her maw, as if a funny thought had momentarily crossed her mind. Her still expression was swiftly cast off canter when he asked. Shanu flexed her paw in his and lightly dragged her sharp claws against the surface of Arsenic's skin as they retracted, caring so little for his status. It didn't matter what others thought of him, nor would Shanu be phased by their perceptions.</font color> <font color="yellow">"Hmmm. It's too bad you've never heard of me,"</font color> <font color="white">Shanu tossed her head to one side and regained her eye contact with him - as solid and fixed as before.</font color> <font color="Yellow">"I suppose then that we're both less popular than we initially thought, yeah?"</font color> <font color="white">She licked her lips - it was rhetorical - and continued briskly.</font color> <font color="yellow">"As for 'have what', now that's... that's a totally different ball game, my dear Arden."</font color></font color> <font color="white">Shanu smoothly retracted her paw from his clutches. She wrapped both hands together and rested them, fingers interlocked, palms up, just below her belt line.</font color> <font color="yellow">"I hear you're some fashion 'dragon, who specializes in Thill's clothing. Tell me, then, if you will, 'ba... could you do me up better?"</font color> <font color="white">Shanu peered past her thick strand of hair at him. He was a strapping Arden for someone whose hands looked so old. Her many questions would have to wait.</font color> <tag /></td></tr></table></font face>
<blockquote>Dyl moved with the lackadaisical fluidity of a cat, his steps rolling and liquid as he walked around Shanu, hands intertwined at the small of his back, his eyes calm and ambivalent as he looked at her. He tilted his head like a cheshire cat and offered a blinding grin, his entire being a paradox - absent eyes and yet emotion in his smile. "Shame that we haven't met, Shanu? Pfft. We'd meet sometime in the future, seeing of what high status you are - surprised I haven't seen you at any of Koani'sla's events, eh?" he cooed, his brow cut in a chiseled furrow of idle contemplation. "But as for clothes - ah, yeah, I can help you there." My dear arden? he thought. Damn, those forward types - He paused, walked around her once more. He examined her carefully and closely, his gaze calmly calculating. She was pretty, he supposed, tall for her age - she reminded him of some of his younger sisters, in their early pubescence. "Mhm. You'd look good, I think - maybe in some nice trousers with a ruffled silk blouse - yeah, or a long skirt with a coat. Scarf, definitely. Pinstripes - perhaps a woman's blazer." He mumbled on, options multiplying.
