#lclthlcved

abdirak spreads his hands to the side. ❛ we offer up our pain to loviatar as our sacrifice, ❜ he replies. ❛ pain should be a loving, intimate thing, offered up to her willingly. it is part of our trial, in some way, to grow accustomed to partaking in this form of worship. to become accustomed to striking ourselves, or placing ourselves in the hands of another. ❜

"First time I ever laid eye on a Bulette, I almost passed away from the excitement. Something that big that burrows? Well, it's going to be one hell of a fight, I thought." There is a note of disappointment in her voice, as though aforementioned bulette had done her some kind fo disservice. "But we managed to get it down in a matter of a few minutes, and it felt like such a tease."

STARTER CALL. / NOT ACCEPTING. / @lclthlcved.

Karlach remembers the day it happened as though it was only yesterday. It had happened fairly soon after she had been thrust into the thick of things, and no one had taken a single moment to actually warn her about the great big, movement-seeking balls of certain death that would spend the majority of their time chasing her down. She has always been good a dodging, self-preservation tends to do that. It was enough as a distraction that a fucking dragon of all things had narrowly missed a swipe of its claws, but not before it had taken its horn for her troubles. Fuck, it had hurt like a son of a bitch. Reminded her of the one time she had bitten into a hard-candy and one of her back teeth had decided that it very much had not liked that one bit.

It doesn't hurt anymore, but it took her a while to realise that it was indeed gone, and though no one in the hells had truly questioned why she was missing a horn, folks on the Storm Coast were the curious sort. Karlach stays quiet for a long moment, like she's mulling over her answer and whether she ought to offer up the truth or something that wouldn't birth that look of shock, pity, or that irritating blend of the two.

"Oh, you know, lost it in a deadly game of strip poker. Didn't fancy getting caught with my kecks around my ankles, so, it was the next logical thing." Her grin is wide, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "No, I shouldn't do that. One of the little missteps I made in my first day in Avernus. I hardly notice it's gone anymore. Besides, I think it makes me look rather fetching. Like a loveable rogue with a story."

RANDOM QUESTIONS. ALWAYS ACCEPTING. @lclthlcved.

Scare. If it's even possible

Easily. The word inspires an inferno of vexation knotting in her chest. She thinks it was easy? And with it came the flicker of visions, specks of events in her mind's eye- the dancing woman in red skipping across the table, a knife slicing out the throats of her men. It strikes Minthara like a dagger between the brow and her eyes scrunch shut - hand lifting as the wriggling movement in her skull pushes the memories away. It was a pain that made her teeth clench, her lips sneer, and breath catch. There are hand holding her in her seat, grip hard enough to crack bone as a dagger draws a single tear of blood from her eye - bound before a prison of flesh. Her hand closes at her temple, nostrils flaring as the defiant bellow of screams fill her ear - and there's a daunting moment taken when she realizes it's her own. Echoing in the halls as they dragged her below into the mindflayer's colony.

Then just as the visions were violently upon her they were pushed away - like a cold caress of ice to silence the chaos between her ears. Like a light chasing away the darkness. The Drow's brow relaxes as she opens her mind and lets it in - and with it the simple word she feels her entire body relax. Obey. The word was gentle, a command, but so much more than that - almost affectionate. Obey me. And just like that - the visions were gone, the ghost of spiders chased away from her body..

Minthara smiles now - confident as ever with the whisper in her ear, she could feel Orin the Red's hand at her neck even now. In all of her magnificent glory in the light of the Absolute's wonder. And thus Minthara tilts her heard and gives that curved grin right back to the other Drow before it softens. "Praise the Absolute."

"I'M SORRY- DO I KNOW YOU?" His question is blunt, staring at the drow. The statement itself was not one he agreed with, believing that he had PLENTY of courage when it came to his decisions. Well, SOME of the time at least. One could hardly blame his caution when it came to certain aspects of his life at the moment. One wrong move and he could risk Cazador finding him.