The red and grey dress that Noelle had worn more often than anything else laid across her bed while she stood wrapped in a woven blanket stolen from the couch on the floor below. Her fingers traced the thin stitches made every now in then throughout the fabric from the many times the woman had been stabbed and later went to work repairing the tears. Her eyes glanced for a moment to her right hand where the tips of three fingers were slightly more calloused than the others from constantly sewing and repairing the fabric. A light sigh escaped her lips as she found the slightly darkened fabric around a few stitches suddenly very disturbing. Her blood stained the cloth.
Noelle stepped back, still dressed in only the white shift she wore to sleep and the blanket around her shoulders. She needed something new, something that wasn't drenched in her own blood. Something that no one recognized immediately was that of the Kade's past right hand. Her fingers tightened slightly around the threads covering her chilled skin and an idea came to mind as she rubbed a thumb on the blanket around her. A slight smile graced her lips as she dropped it and pulled on the red and grey dress for the last time and left her house in a haste to find a shop.
Several hours later, an Ailor made her way through the tavern under the streets. A grey-colored sash was tied over her black hair, matching the grey cloak and darker colored dress she wore. The woman was a prime example of someone that wanted to blend in. Her eyes drifted over the few occupants of the room, frowning ever so slightly at the lack of a certain half-Ithanian. With a slight shake of her head, she turned and began to make her way towards the exit when a strange pair caught her eye. Now she knew that the sewers were a weird and unquestionable place, but she could help but call out to the woman that looked a bit distressed by the mutated man on her if she were well. The creature atop her hopped off and made his way for the grey-bearing woman, poking her hand lightly.
Her hand pressed slightly to the hilt of the curved dagger at her side, glaring knives at the Tresmisae that tried desperately to capture her attention as she avidly made her way from the tavern, only to stop when the thing caught the end of her skirt in hand. With a sigh, the sewer-dweller turned to look at the sanguine with a raised brow, questioning his actions verbally and after a small threat told the mutation of a man to fetch her a drink. She stood, shaking her head when a call of a man grabbed her attention;
"Your slave?" asked an - assumingly - Elven man. The woman nodded, agreeing without truly thinking and when she'd gone to begin her trek off again, stop mid-step. Her slave? The Tresmisae had seemed fairly interested in following all - well, most - of her biddings. Her teeth clicked lightly, a sound she made often and most of the time in a situation that annoyed her, but of course this was not like often times. Slowly she pushed words together to form an answer in her now semi blank mind, dumbfounded by the advantage she carried over the sanguine.
"Yes, he is my slave." She finally spoke up, her voice clear like water but not quite has thin. The man came bounding back up to her on all four, bottle in mouth that he offered like a dog fetching a newspaper for its owner. She took the bottle from his mouth and opened it, not yet taking a swig as she asked lightly to her new pet - her new slave - "What is your name?" A brow rose effortlessly as she asked, eyes darting around a moment as to scan once more for the man she'd originally came in search for only to find nothing.
"Dor." The answer was slow, despite the easiness of it, nearly so easy that the woman seemed to do a doubletake on what she'd heard and questioned it quietly. After concluding that that was indeed the name of the creature she was master to - in her own mind - she answer effortlessly, her scarred hands brushing black locks from her eyes in a manner that appeared almost ice cold and definitely uncaring;
"And I am Noelle."
@FinnDJ123 In case you get confused on Noella's new outfit.
Noelle stepped back, still dressed in only the white shift she wore to sleep and the blanket around her shoulders. She needed something new, something that wasn't drenched in her own blood. Something that no one recognized immediately was that of the Kade's past right hand. Her fingers tightened slightly around the threads covering her chilled skin and an idea came to mind as she rubbed a thumb on the blanket around her. A slight smile graced her lips as she dropped it and pulled on the red and grey dress for the last time and left her house in a haste to find a shop.
Several hours later, an Ailor made her way through the tavern under the streets. A grey-colored sash was tied over her black hair, matching the grey cloak and darker colored dress she wore. The woman was a prime example of someone that wanted to blend in. Her eyes drifted over the few occupants of the room, frowning ever so slightly at the lack of a certain half-Ithanian. With a slight shake of her head, she turned and began to make her way towards the exit when a strange pair caught her eye. Now she knew that the sewers were a weird and unquestionable place, but she could help but call out to the woman that looked a bit distressed by the mutated man on her if she were well. The creature atop her hopped off and made his way for the grey-bearing woman, poking her hand lightly.
Her hand pressed slightly to the hilt of the curved dagger at her side, glaring knives at the Tresmisae that tried desperately to capture her attention as she avidly made her way from the tavern, only to stop when the thing caught the end of her skirt in hand. With a sigh, the sewer-dweller turned to look at the sanguine with a raised brow, questioning his actions verbally and after a small threat told the mutation of a man to fetch her a drink. She stood, shaking her head when a call of a man grabbed her attention;
"Your slave?" asked an - assumingly - Elven man. The woman nodded, agreeing without truly thinking and when she'd gone to begin her trek off again, stop mid-step. Her slave? The Tresmisae had seemed fairly interested in following all - well, most - of her biddings. Her teeth clicked lightly, a sound she made often and most of the time in a situation that annoyed her, but of course this was not like often times. Slowly she pushed words together to form an answer in her now semi blank mind, dumbfounded by the advantage she carried over the sanguine.
"Yes, he is my slave." She finally spoke up, her voice clear like water but not quite has thin. The man came bounding back up to her on all four, bottle in mouth that he offered like a dog fetching a newspaper for its owner. She took the bottle from his mouth and opened it, not yet taking a swig as she asked lightly to her new pet - her new slave - "What is your name?" A brow rose effortlessly as she asked, eyes darting around a moment as to scan once more for the man she'd originally came in search for only to find nothing.
"Dor." The answer was slow, despite the easiness of it, nearly so easy that the woman seemed to do a doubletake on what she'd heard and questioned it quietly. After concluding that that was indeed the name of the creature she was master to - in her own mind - she answer effortlessly, her scarred hands brushing black locks from her eyes in a manner that appeared almost ice cold and definitely uncaring;
"And I am Noelle."
@FinnDJ123 In case you get confused on Noella's new outfit.
