“I want to know more about you.” The previously unknown, unremarkable passerby divulged from beneath the wide brim of a sable-black hat. A quick pivot upon the heels of his boots had swiftly corrected his stride so that it brought him parallel to her own, evenly acquainted with her own previously established pace. A gloved digit flicked against the underside of the hat's brim to reveal the man's visage responsible for the inquiry.
The merchants raven brow arched as she saw the man quickly begin to follow alongside her as she maneuvered her way through the city. A bit of a smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she heard the question. “That is a rather broad question..” She eyed him over curiously as they walked. Taking in his features once that hat was lifted. “What exactly do you want to know?” As the question was offered she turned on her heel and began walking backwards so she could keep her gaze on his. Her hips swaying with her steps, even walking backwards she moved languidly with ease. “I love to dance..” She did a little sway of her body to mimic dancing as she walked, “I enjoy seeing everything Azeroth has to offer..” Her arms stretched out to motion towards the buildings they passed before finally spinning back around, walking forward next to him again. “And I’m a merchant.” Her arms swung at her sides as they walked. “I could keep going but we’d be walking for a while..” A bright smile was offered, “So again, you’ll have to be more specific, love.”
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What sort of legacy does your character wish to leave behind?
Elu runs an underground operation to help those who are enslaved or in abusive situations. She hopes that this operation continues when she is long gone. That future generations will see the plight of the innocent and take up their own sword to defend that which is wrong and set it right just as she once did. She doesn’t want fame or glory from such, she just wants to know that when she is long gone that somebody else will fill her shoes and care about it as much as she does, that she made a difference. That she leaves a legacy that shows its what you do that matters, not what you get for doing it.
Currently, many of those who work for or assist her are those she actually rescued or friends and family of those who were rescued from such situations. She hopes perhaps that she might even have a child that would carry on her legacy of hope.
In her words:
“I hope when I am gone somebody sees the good I did. How much I tried to help those who could not help themselves. I hope I leave behind that which inspires others to do the same. To take up arms and defend those who can’t defend themselves. That at the end of my final day I made a difference no more how slight.” ~Elu Delouche
Since Haunt began obsessing over alternatives to magic, grenades have always stood at the forefront of interests, and the first prototype that was successfully completed was the NF-115 Anti-Magic Type. It was rushed, the first few attempts, originally designed with expansive runes in mind, multiple iterations saw massive adjustments to how the system works. Being adversely against magic, Haunt sought to level the playing field, if even for only a few seconds, and the result became, at least so far, a grenade capable of deploying a dead zone mid combat that removes the effectiveness of all magic types for the duration of its existence. Propelled through traditional means, the anti-magic itself is perpetuated by enchanted pellets, interconnecting to create the field upon activation through expulsion. Passing through the field is similar to walking into an ion field in effect to the physical body.
Having only used it a few times out of necessity, the most entertaining to Haunt was the complete disabling of an Order’s acolytes. It was enough to bring Haunt pause and giggle at the sight of five novice spellflingers baffled by their sudden inability to do what they did best. The joy was short lived, as bullets rained down on the group in their momentary confusion to mortally wound several of them.
What has come to result from the discovery of anti-magic explosives is an effective set of weaponry and defensive systems that Haunt now employs. From a magic-diffusion system for the body to small scale, direct-contact anti-magic ammunition. The grenade itself, having been worked upon tirelessly, has varied through its iterations in terms of total functionality, but at least, appearance wise, it has always looked to be a typical frag grenade, despite its uses. That is the only aspect that has seen no advancements.
The redhead looked nearly too drunk to function, leaning heavily upon her own bar top. It was not the most professional appearance she could have displayed. When the question was brought to her ears, she grinned and lifted her glass. It was then drained entirely of its contents before being slammed down upon the wet bar top. “Alright? Suuure, everything is grand. I honestly .. no, actually. Everything isn’t alright. Do you know that Trolls only have two toes? That is just wrong, entirely wrong.. I hate trolls.”
(( Warning : Numerous triggers for some folks out there. ))
Jocelyn was standing on the knife edge between being alert and once again fading away. The pain was intense, more then she had ever felt in her life. As her face swelled, the dark black wax pulled at the burns on her skin and only made it worse. She dared not open her eyes, for fear of what she would see. Clenching her fists repeatedly, thoughts whip-cracking through her mind, she couldn’t focus on any one idea or thought. Emotions, shifting and moving and changing. Some thoughts came and went so fast, she couldn’t grasp them. Others, lingered only long enough for her to realize them before her ravaged mind moved on to the next one. She could hear someone breathing in the room, but knew it wasn’t Valucia. It sounded deeper and heavier then her, she couldn’t place it. This disturbed her, almost as much as the incredible pain that wouldn’t give her even a moments respite. The scene replayed itself so many times, though she tried to force it from her mind. That thick black wax, bubbling in the cauldron. Knowing what was coming and actually dealing with the fact that it did are two very different things.
As tough as she thought she was, she hadn’t been prepared for it at all. Desmond’s betrayal of her wouldn’t be forgiven anytime soon. Yes, she had left and if she had her way no one would have known it until they returned. Valucia had to be taken from there, had to have time to process not only what had been done to her, but what she had done since her time began with the collective. All her plans were failed now, and she saw no way to correct them. She cried, the salt in her tears only adding to the already overwhelming pain as they wet the blistering and swollen flesh of her face. She wanted to scream, but feared what new hellish threshold of pain that would cause. So she simmered, feeling like a dutch oven had been placed over her face. The wax, frozen in place only seemed to contain the heat that had built up as blood constantly flushed to her skin in vain attempts to provide healing to horribly scarred flesh. Worse then the pain, and worse then the betrayal was the worry and concern for Valucia. She was strong, there was no denying that, but was Valucia strong enough to leave Jo in the hellish misery that had become her existence? She hoped so, she didn’t want her love to suffer what had happened to her. As Jo focused herself, as she brutally directed her thoughts, the pain seemed to subside a bit.....or was she dreaming again? She didn’t care, she needed the break and accepted it with aplomb.
“You need only survive this Jocelyn, revenge will be yours in the end. Besides, we will take care of you. We will make sure you live Jocelyn. In fact, we give you no choice in the matter. But we aren’t completely heartless, you will be stronger for it, as we teach you what you must know to ascend. Do not give up Jocelyn, we wait in the shadows for you, always.”
Jocelyn knew the source of the respite now, knew the shadows and what lingered behind them had done for her what her body could not. They, or it, or whatever....eased her mind enough to let her rest again.
“I will survive, and in time I will seek my revenge. It may take years, or perhaps tomorrow. Eventually the opportunity will present itself. I only hope you are prepared.”
Jocelyn spoke to all those present at her punishment, though no sound came from her cracked and swollen lips. More to herself then anyone else did she speak, needing the motivation to get through trials ahead of her.
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“I like when you hold my hand and baby me, even though I’ve told you I don’t need it.”
Kat desperately wants to join in on the conversations around her and she is very lonely, but she has no idea how so she just keeps up her angry observer act.
“Fourth row in, sixth board. The third board squeaks, the fifth is half rotten.”
If I Think They Are: Ugly || Plain || Alright || Cute || Freaking Adorable || Pretty || Beautiful || Hot || Stunning
“He has a way of looking effortlessly attractive. He easily grabs your attention if he wants it. I think he is a man who might be used to getting his way with a little sweet talk, but yes, he is quite attractive.”
If I Would Go On A Date With Them: Not even if we were the last two one earth || No || Maybe || Eh….Sure || Yes || WILL YOU MARRY ME
“We seem to have similar goals in life, and he’s attractive so sure. As far as I know he is single.”
If I Trust Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || With My Life
“His proposition to keep his memory alive was enough to show me he trusts me to some extent so it’d only be right to repay him with the same amount of trust.”
If I Care About Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || Deeply
“The way he spoke to me.. He seems to feel things deeply as I do. I can’t help but think he has seen the worst of Azeroth and yet he still finds some folks to love and call family within it. I can’t help but care about him in that regard.”
If I Would Sleep With Them: Not Enough Alcohol in the World || No || Maybe if I were wasted || Maybe || Eh…Sure || Yes || TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF NOW!
“I think most women would, myself included.”
My Comfort Level With Your Muse: Keep a Distance || Okay You Can Stand There, But Don’t Touch Me || Let’s Get Coffee and Talk || Let’s Cuddle || I Can Change In Front of You || Let’s Take a Bath Together
“Our chats have always seemed to be deep in meaning, but we’ve not been around one another enough to take the comfort level further.”
If I See You As: A Stranger || An Acquaintance || A Friend || A Close Friend || My Best Friend || A Crush || The Love of My Life
“An acquaintance, and perhaps a quickly growing friendship.”
Zeehva surrounds herself with things that appeal to her senses. Bright, colorful, pretty things for sight. Soft, fluffy, or satin things for touch. Wind chimes, her bangles, and her kalimba for sound. Candles, incense, or oils for scent. She loves being surrounded by things that appeal to her senses and its the easiest way to make to her happy.
Zeehva loves to dance and will often dance with anyone willing! She has made some folks nights by doing this, but it just makes her happy to see dancing making other folks happy too!
