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"... You ever wonder why people wanted to be Great Ones so bad? I mean, they're slugs. I'd rather keep my limbs, thanks."
"Not all of them are slugs! In fact I think only Kos is rather sluggy..." Lothric looks down at himself, as if he's not a proper example, though he doubts he counts as a true Great One. "They can look like nearly anything."
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Tired footsteps echo in the small entrance way for a bar, the Hunter paying little heed to any signs that were posted aside from the one that said 'OPEN' in neon letters. She pushed the door open, the scent of booze hitting her immediately as she seemed calm and stoic outwardly. Bars weren't her forte, but after a night of unsuccessful hunting, she needed a drink and this seemed to be the closest place for such. Maria took a seat at the bar, letting her eyes wander after ordering something.
@vileblccded
Unseasonably warm, for the bare blooming of spring. As such, people rushed to show skin and perch on bar-stools, sip on Mai Tais out of fake plastic pineapples. Nothing wrong with a tiki bar -- a gimmick wasn’t so bad if it worked out to make a successful business. Might as well have been a buffet for Riley (or at least one of those conveyor-belt sushi places, to create a more accurate metaphor); an easy feed.
Indeed, she filled her belly quickly, finding a giggly redhead and inviting her to be better acquainted in private. The process was professional, elegant, mechanical; so far as such a thing could be, at least. Partners were always left a little dazed afterwards, so Riley continued her near-numb ritual: borrowed her phone, called a cab, and sent the woman home. For once, though, the evening didn’t end there; maybe it was the cheery scent of squeezed pineapple that led her to head back on a stool.
This return, which otherwise might’ve simply consisted of a few tacos, was quickly derailed by a strongly-out-of-place woman. Maybe it just wasn’t her scene? Riley could certainly relate -- had to get out of her comfortable apartment/nest if she didn’t want to starve. As such, she took the stool beside this strange stranger, and not just because it was the closest one free. A gentle perk of lips to the blonde, with a hand raised to call the bartender over. “Rough night?”
"... You would have made a fine Hunter. The Hunt would have resonated from you like a fire casting its warmth upon its surroundings."
Kriemhild gave the woman an appraising gaze, eyes taking in her weapon and garb, “Perhaps… But I had my own hunt to attend to. Traitors and their accomplices cannot be allowed to fester like maggots in a wound after all.” She gives the Hunter a smile, “I do thank you for the compliment though.”
“But tell me more of your Hunt, ‘twould seem to have sculpted you into a mighty warrior. It must have been an arduous undertaking.”
@vileblccded replied to your post ““Remember, when in doubt, give them a sword.””
"Like, as in a present or as in stabbing them?"
“As a present. Generally speaking, it is bad practice to stab someone unless you are sure they deserve it.”
vileblccded said: "Okay but, why take that chance?"
"I have limbs! Kos had limbs, Ebrietas has limbs, the Amygdala have many limbs... What makes you think you would not have limbs?"
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"... Your weapon, what is it?"
[ “ it’s called a Blazefire Saber... It’s nothing special.’ ]
"... You two... you have a familiar aura around you..." The Hunter's brows furrowed ever so slightly, unsure of how to phrase her words properly. So many things seemed both familiar and yet so foreign about them. "... Who are you?"
"Nobody. Simply entities of the nightmare." This was not an unfamiliar place, the nightmare, though Lothric could not be sure why they visited its foggy shores. His own impure pedigree perhaps, not kin enough to choose where he traveled, or who came with him. Luckily, Lorian was here this time, shivering in the damp cold alongside him.
"It is you, the one behind Fate itself. Tell me, did you also foresee my fate as a Hunter? What I would do? Or was I outside of your 'jurisdiction'?"
❝ all fates I have written. all tragedies I tell. if you ask if I knew of you, turning your back on gehrman, then yes. that I did foretell. ❞
there is no emotion to her face. nothing of note to betray anything akin to guilt or remorse for having written it this way. every mortal was within her jurisdiction, && she could easily recall the huntress maria’s tale. no hand necessary to fall upon the face of the nightmare that spoke before her. such unfortunate soul.
❝ the fishing hamlet, I believe. that was the day you decided your fate. ❞
