[Secyclion] She Will Present You with a Crown of Beauty

[Ministra]

Nothing about this house was welcoming. Who would live in such a hellhole? Speaking of hole… Didn’t look like Mini was going to be getting out of here. She wasn’t much of a climber and couldn’t risk another fall. She needed to feed, badly, she could feel her stomach cramping and threatening a frenzy. But she had to hold it together, had to keep her composure. She was better than this, deserved better than this, and she would be treated with some godsdamned respect whether anyone liked it or not.

Smoothing a hand through her hair, she straightened her filthy skirt and stood as tall as her knee would allow her. ”Yoo hoo,” she called to the heartbeat above. They didn’t seem to be fussed about her being there, but maybe they just hadn’t realized she was there.

”I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Could you help me out and set me on the road to the inn?” She waited a moment. ”Serale?” Was she still invisible? Maybe she should turn that off so that Calmbeat up there could see just how pathetic and unscary she appeared. ”Please?”

 

[Nimh]

Oh, to be helpless! What a strange feeling for the vampire, right?

Those eyes blinked at her, golden in the torchlight but seeming briefly...red? They flicked back to gold again. Realization was maybe settling in but again...no change to the heartbeat. Calm. Steady. Thump. What was she going to do? Thump. Was this an intelligent lifeforms? A human? An orc? Thump. Maybe a dumb beast that was somewhat intelligent? Thump.

The golden eyes turned away from the hole in the ground and for a long moment there was nothing but the thump of that calm, unnerved heartbeat, combined with a clicking shuffle on the ground above.

And then there was another click.

More crossbow bolts? Maybe the floor was going to give way? Maybe those missing spikes were going to suddenly appear? Maybe rocks were going to rain down on top of head? There were a lot of options!

But, no, a staircase materialized in the rock as the stones shifted away from the wall in turn, spiraling up and up and up until the spiraled staircase reached the very top of Ministra's hole.

Interesting, right?

She could climb the stairs unimpeded and no one seeming to be watching her...at least until she reached the very top where the mysterious someone at the top shifted out of the darkness next to a lever. The room wasn't grand but it wasn't small either--it was vaulted with several pillars holding it up and had that musty dankness of a cellar. Several shelves lined the wall but they were largely empty save for a few battered, well-used items. A cot was shoved against the wall in the distance: Mr Basement-Dweller's bed, one could presume.

Mr. Basement-Dweller?

He was...well...not really what one might call Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, which was to say that he was quite tall and he was quite dark but he wasn't likely to top anyone's list of Aelyria's Most Handsome any time soon. He had to be towering maybe 7 feet in height, stooping a little in the basement, with a bull-like face with a ring pieced through the nostrils and two large horns curving away from his skull. Said skull looked to have been operated on at some point and fixed to the top of the head was the skull of someone who must have been an elf because there were pointy ears alongside those horns and a long mane of flowing silver-blonde hair. The body looked to be the torso of a male thelyri elf, blue-green in color with gill silts along the neck and torso, while the arms were brutish green...orc, maybe? Mr. Basement-Dweller's legs were covered in crude trousers so there was really no telling what was happening there but he did have hooves.

Oh and a tail, poking out.

But in his brutish green hands was a fairly unappealing club, gnarled and studded with a lot of nails. His expression wasn't mean, per se, but it wasn't kind either. Actually, it seemed rather...dead inside. He stepped towards Ministra, the studded club already swinging swiftly towards her head.

Well, it wasn't every day someone was rescued only to be bashed by the rescuer, right?

 

[Ministra]

Eyes appeared above her, blinking gold and red, then silence as the creature shuffled away. Ministra stood still, waiting for the next horrible thing to happen to her, lips curved into a preparatory sneer. She heard the grinding gears and began forming an acid ball in her hand at her side, weak as it might have been considering her current state. But when stairs began to appear, she quickly unraveled her spell and gratefully ascended from the pit with her head held high despite her limp.

”Thank you,” she sighed and smoothed her skirt, despondent about the loss of her stilettos. Her rescuer stepped from the shadows and Ministra’s eyes widened with delight. Oh he was a pretty monster, wasn’t he? Only problem was that he was now attacking her. Mini sighed and did her best to dodge the swing of his club. Why?

That ring in his nose was leaving this place with her. She didn’t care what happened to the rest of him. While she admired the craftsmanship of the necromancer who put him together, she had no qualms destroying a construct set on clubbing her skull in.

”Stop,” she said, twisting her hand and filling Mr. Basement-Dweller’s body with impotence. Reasoning with one of these things was out of the question, they had their commands and couldn’t be swayed. Which meant that she wouldn’t feel like she was losing much of an asset when she plucked the club from his hand and began bashing in his face.

 

[Nimh]

Goals set--the ring would probably make for a pretty nice bangle on her wrist, right?--Ministra dodged the swinging club quite neatly! It started to swing back around as she bound a spell together and flung it at the grafted monstrosity.

It took his body a moment to realize it had been impacted, the flow of his arm still in mid-swing and following through so that the bulk of the nailed club still came hurtling towards Ministra's mid-section. The club went flying with the swing, though, his fingers loosening their grip as the thing became too heavy for him to hold on to.

He stumbled but seemed determined to stick to his task. Instead, he bumbled towards Ministra, arms flailing like limp noodles at her as he sought instead to maybe wrestle with the vampire instead of hit her with a club. Must take her out! Must not let her continue onward!

 

[Ministra]

A bangle? Naw, this was the ring for Pan. Ministra was certain of it. At least it was the first ring she’d seen so far and felt it was important to grab it, just in case.

Thankfully her spell worked enough to slow him down. The club went flying and Mini breathed a sigh of relief. The calmer part of her wanted to use her magic to just disintegrate and rot this thing from the inside out. It was the most efficient thing to do, but she could feel herself growing weaker with each spell and couldn’t rely on it as much as she wanted to.

But another side of her, a darker, more vengeful part of her that delighted in the beauty of death took her over. She wanted to inflict pain on this monster, knowing full well that it likely wouldn’t be able to feel or process any of it anyway. She wanted destruction.

Mini ran over to the weapon and tried to pick it up, wanting very much to swing it at Mr. Basement-Dweller and break his pretty face, over and over.

 

[Nimh]

Grab all the rings! RIGHT! Smart! Because both people involved in this thread were really super smart about providing or asking for details, like rockstars.

Ministra ran for the nail club, the sort of thing that a delicate little flower like herself probably could only dream of hefting! Except she might be small but, damn, that vampiric strength sure came in handy, right? Men could take their 'cute little woman' comments and shove it up their you-know-where (they were just jealous anyway) as Ministra swung that club and based it into Mr. Basement-Dweller's unsuspecting face.

The mess of a beast's grunt was muffled with blood and other gore as the nails tore into its face, arms pinwheeling as, weakened, it stumbled backwards and thunked down to the floor heavily. Its limbs did some awkward movements, kind of turtle like, as he rested on the floor, and unfortunately there really wasn't a lot of different ways the beast could fight back, weakened as he was.

Bash, bash, bash! Girl had some anger issues to work out, especially after some of those tricks and traps she'd had to work through. It wasn't long before his face was bashed in, the ring loose from its nose, the whole body limp and no longer fighting.

All hail the conquering hero?

 

[Ministra]

Bash! That was for shooting her with crossbow bolts. Bash! That was for nearly squishing her and then sending her falling into a pit. BASH! That was for not just giving Mini what she wanted she asked nicely for it in the very first post!

Mr. Basement-Dweller’s skull became nothing but pulp. Mini raked the back of her gore-stained wrist across her face, smiling and panting from the exertion. That felt good. She hadn’t let out her rage in so long that she’d forgotten what a relief a good-old-fashioned pummeling could be.

Sifting through the innards, she plucked the very important plot device and stuck it in her pocket (because of course her dress still had pockets that weren’t ripped or torn).

Right. So. Where was that other heartbeat? She needed to head in that direction. Carefully, so as not to set off any traps. Maybe take some bones with her and throw them at the ground in front of herself as she walked. She was definitely hanging on to this club though. It felt good to have a weapon in her hand once again.

 

[Nimh]

The ring felt nice and heavy in her pocket. When she'd picked it up it also felt like death whispering through her fingers. The ring practically hummed with it. Such a delight! Now it just sort of rested like heavy golden metal in her pocket, thumping against her side each step.

Ministra headed towards the next heartbeat, this one much more normal in pace and regularity. It didn't seem as if the owner of said heartbeat was worried...but was that a good thing or a bad thing?

There was a door at the back of the basement room, wooden and old but easily opened with a jerk of the handle (would it be mean to suggest this was also in the shape of a ring?). She went along, throwing things where she was able and stepping quite carefully, clearly now very paranoid about the tiles and stones in the house. Which was probably wise.

Lucky for her, this corridor seemed safe. Maybe the man (woman?) who had built the place had been quite certain that no one would get past the pet in the other room!

The corridor was short and ended in a wide room. This one was fancy, with gilded metal pillars holding up the room. There was an altar-like structure in the middle of the room, circular in nature, and the circling rose high up above it, sloping upward until it reached a narrow window. This window was not presently shuttered and moonlight streamed down onto the empty altar.

All around the room were little shelves. On some of those shelves were various body parts--heads, arms, hands, fingers, toes, noses, ears, penises, testicles...if you could name it, it was there!--kept in jars. The races were many and varied, from one age to the next. On another side of the room, there was a rack of weapons--swords, daggers, bows, etc--and next to that some cloaks and hats, some fancier than others! Beside that were some shoes, some for men, some for women, while set out on a table was a dangling display of necklaces and a display case that boasted a variety of bracelets and, oh hey, a lot of rings!

At a desk not far from the workshop was the heartbeat--an old man laboring over a bunch of gadgets that were strewn about the desk in front of him. He was tinkering with something that looked like a metal dog but could have been just about anything. His white hair was long and his fingers a little gnarled. Still, those fingers worked away. He did briefly glance towards Ministra before going back to work. An old man, a human, looking none too special or threatening.

"Beat Lars, did you? Shame. I worked hard on that one. It's going to take me a while to set those traps back up, too. Something of a bother but it's all right." He rotated a gear, closed a latch, and set the small thing on the desk. Wizened hands wound a tiny little crank. He sat back and watched it bop across the table. "Ah. There. It works again." He stopped it from teetering of the edge and let the crank run its course. "I suppose you were looking for something?"

 

[Ministra]

After the shit she’d just been through, Ministra wasn’t taking any chances by traipsing through the halls all willy nilly. Call it whatever you wanted, she had been humbled. At least for a little while. After she’d fed and felt like her old self again though, whatever lesson this was supposed to inspire would disappear.

The monster’s ring was interesting and she almost hoped that it wasn’t the one Pan wanted, because she wanted it now, too. Then there was the door handle at the end of the basement. She sighed and rolled her eyes, snapping that ring off and sticking it in her pocket with the other. Pan was going to have options.

Following the heartbeat along, treading carefully because she didn’t want to cry again. Finally she found the source of the other heartbeat. She didn’t bother trying to conceal her entrance, nor her disturbing appearance. Let him see what he’d done to her and that she still stood despite it all. Mini was a survivor.

The guy didn’t seem too perturbed, more lamenting the loss of his pet than the fact that a very scary woman was glaring at him. Which meant that this guy was used to things like her creeping up on him and he likely had a multitude of vicious ways to defend himself.

So she let go of the violence she wanted to inflict on him and allowed herself an easy smile and a nonchalant cant to her hips. ”Yes, sorry about that,” she said in regards to Lars. ”If it’s any consolation, he was very intimidating, heruamin.” Her voice was smoot, silky.

She hid the club behind her back, knowing full well that he could still see it behind her. It was more about the gesture than anything. Taking a step forward, she eyed all his treasures, noting the trove of rings that she was going to have to lug back to Pan and rolling her eyes. There was some amusement behind her eyes as he wound up his toy and watched it walk off the table. Cute.

”I need obsidianite and all of your rings.” Here she was, asking nicely, again.

 

[Nimh]

"Obsidianite? Is that all? You know, you could have just found some laying around out in the mountains somewhere. Seems like a lot of bother for that." He gave a little chuckle, truly quite amused over the thought of it. "Over there. Third unit down, two shelves up. Next to the copper bars." He gestured towards the shelving unit mentioned.

Sure enough, there they were: lumps of unfashioned obsidianite just sitting there, waiting to be claimed. And sitting right next to three pretty smooth, nice bars of what might be good copper.

Another chuckle as he poked at his little toy design some more. "Pan sent you, eh? Finally got someone willing to come out here. You sure you want all the rings? Or just the one?" He hadn't hard committed as to whether or not he'd be handing that over just yet. Maybe too good to be true that she would get the obsidianite and the ring by asking nicely?

 

[Ministra]

Ministra’s lips pressed into a thin line when the man practically laughed at her. Yes, she was keenly aware that she could have just picked some obsidianite up at a lava flow. That was why she had enchanted the blacksmith so many pages ago.

And then she’d been sidetracked. And like… this option didn’t make her go out in nature. So… really, none of this was Mini’s fault.

Silently, she went to where the man indicated and grabbed the obsidianite and the copper bars, because she was entitled to those too. ”Do you have a… satchel or something?” she asked. He seemed pretty okay with giving her what she wanted so far, so she didn’t see the harm in asking for a means to carry this stuff back with her.

When she asked about the ring, he seemed to know exactly what she meant. That was pretty handy! At least someone around here did. ”I’ll take just the one that Pan wants, please.”

 

[Nimh]

"A satchel? No. I'm afraid not." Another chuckle as he picked up a screwdriver and began adjusting the placement of some gears on another piece.

He set the tool down after a moment of silent consideration, then pushed himself off his stool. He was quite bent as he moved through the room, slowly and steadily. To the rings he went! A little jingle of a key and the display case was unlocked.

He fumbled through the rings until he came up with one--golden with a murky green gem between the fangs of a nicely carved snake. He held it up. "This is what Pan wants. He also knows that eventually it will find its way back and then we'll be doing this dance again. Everything always comes back. Inevitably." He grinned at her and chucked it towards her--problematic, given everything in her hands already.

But, hey, handed off it went!

 

[Ministra]

No satchel. Great. Fine. Whatever. Ministra would just carry it all like a pack mule without a pack. She squared her shoulders and forced a grateful smile across her bloodstained face.

He led her over to the rings and tossed her the one Pan asked for. ”Thank you,” she said sincerely, a little worried about what he meant by everything eventually finding its way back to him. She was simply going to have to ensure that never happened with her obsidianite. She didn’t want to have to come back here again and gut this man.

Tempting to put on the ring. Oh so tempting… What’s that? Someone put the ring on her finger when she wasn’t looking! Hopefully not a problem, because Mini was ready to leave this place.

”Don’t suppose there’s a more convenient exit?” she asked the man, finding him surprisingly pleasant and helpful. Probably should have been a little more suspicious, but she was still riding the adrenaline wave from killing that minotaur thing.

 

[Nimh]

He probably could have been obstinate about everything but honestly...he was an old dude surrounded with his gadgets and fun little play things, his big bad Lars had been taken down and now here she was, covered in gore and ready to probably tear his throat out if he said no. Incentive? Okay, get the woman out of here and trust that all things eventually came back!

He pointed out the arched doorway to the left of the room. "Stairs are that way. Have a pleasant evening." He gave her a little smile and a wave, because he was just so nice.

But was he? And did she really trust any stairs he had in his house? QUESTIONABLE!

Either way, she'd go up the stairs without any problems whatsoever and emerge into the main room of the first floor, right across from the main entrance. Imagine if she'd just gone in the front door and gone down the first door on her right? Right in, no problems!

Alas, life...!

 

[Ministra]

In Mini’s point of view, the old dude was the only human alive worthy of continuing to do so. She thanked him again with a nod and the fact that she left him breathing. If there were traps on the stairs, she was too tired to worry about it. She’d deal with it if it happened. Until then though, she wanted to trust that the gadgeteer wasn’t trying to pull a fast one on her. She had her loot and then some and she took her leave of the place.

Right back to the beginning with the locked front door. Ministra kicked it down and stalked outside. Barefoot and dripping gore, she limped down the streets, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, but not really putting much effort into hiding herself, clutching her prizes to her chest and sneering down anyone who got in her way.

She could have disappeared back to her room at the inn, gotten herself all dolled up and presentable before returning to Pan, but she didn’t want to. She wanted him to see the pain, the effort she went through. That she had prevailed where everyone else he sent for that blasted ring had failed. Even if he didn’t appreciate it the way that she wanted him to, she would at least have the satisfaction of making a scene in his club.

Back to the club; she knew the way. Once there, she’d let the bouncer know, ”I’m here for Pan.”

 

[Nimh]

Ministra walked her way back! If she had a little orcish company as she went, she didn't know it!

When she reached the club, the bouncer looked at her, giving her the once over, and grinned broadly. "Have a little trouble, sweetheart?"

Xnurl, who had been trailing her, chuckled as he materialized behind her, depositing a sound slap on her backside that would stir her bones a little bit. For someone who was very much a no touchy touchy kinda guy, here he was, being really touchy-touchy. "Went out to see ol' Dimitrios. Pan finally got someone to do it."

The bouncer and Xnurl looked at each other...with celebration in their eyes?

Well! The door opened up to her and in she could go! The club had died down a bit since she'd last been there. By that point there were mostly people that were still flying high on the fuel of their drugs...or were too passed out to notice things had happened...or were having sex in the curtained rooms off to the side.

Pan was still sitting at the table, a glass of wine in one hand and some food in the other, enjoying himself. The head of a pretty blonde was resting between his legs, where she'd promptly passed out afterwards. "You came back! And not exactly empty-handed, hm?" His brows quirked at her armload.

 

[Ministra]

Ha, ha, HA. Yes, many amused and laughing glances were cast in her direction, but did Ministra take the bait? No! She remained as composed as could be, enraged by the house and the damage it had done to her. Everyone else could go fuck themselves.

Xnurl’s slap to her ass earned him a playful little wink though. She always did have a soft spot for greenskins. Rawr.

The bouncer very smartly didn’t seek to delay her entrance to the club. The place had certainly cleared out from its earlier luster and zeal, the only ones left the seediest of the bunch. Which suited Mini just fine as she lumbered forward, towards Pan and that smug grin on his face. A smirk that she mirrored with a little extra shake of her hips and a proud nod.

She dropped her loot on the table and sighed, slumping into the chair next to Pan with a dramatic wilt. ”My dress got torn,” she pouted and presented him with her blood-flecked hand, knuckles down so that he may slide the ring from her slender finger.

Before he actually could though, she curled her fingers into her palm and tutted. ”First, where’s Ophelia.” Best to get that part out of the way before she forgot, because she was about to change the subject. ”And then,” she leaned in closer, ”You can let me properly thank you for the tip on the obsidianite.” She arched an eyebrow in his direction. Maybe she could have a little bite first though, wanted to be at full strength in order to express her gratitude.

 

[Nimh]

"You poor dear. Somehow, I am sure you will survive." He reached out and took the ring from her finger. He looked it over and proudly deposited it on his pinky finger. "From yours to mine, hm? I wonder..." He flexed his fingers, shook his head, finding something amusing about that. Funny, since she hadn't seemed to felt any affects of the ring and yet here he was, almost expecting something as a result of her wearing it. Curious!

No matter. He had the ring now and there she was, copper bars and obsidianite laid out before her.

He snapped his fingers and like good henchmen, Ophelia was produced moments later. She was disheveled, clothing askew, hair askew, looking a little more addled than proper. She sprawled on the floor, looking more hunched than comfortable as she pushed herself up to her knees. She staggered. "See if you live to next week," she sneered at them, clutching a bit at her side as she finally made her way up to her feet.

Her eyes shifted towards Ministra and brightened...but there was a dullness, too, an exhaustion. She stepped towards Ministra, right as Pan kicked the blonde girl towards the elvish vampire. "Here. Have that. Fix you right up. You, too, I suppose. Though you certainly don't deserve it, all things considered."

Ophelia didn't need to be told twice. She dove for the girl, latching teeth into the back of her knee in a way that made the woman shriek awake, buckling forward, pitching into Ministra with panicked, wide eyes. Maybe taking someone else's offerings was gross but Ophelia was clearly weak and needed the blood.

 

[Ministra]

He almost looked disappointed as he took the ring from her finger, like something should have happened to her while wearing it. Either the thing was broken or Mini was just that immune from whatever it was the thing did.

Like a good niece, she inquired as to her vampire aunt and Ophelia was promptly deposited to her side. A little worse for wear, but she’d survive. Mini had. Their eyes met and she was a little disappointed to see that some of Ophelia’s spark had dulled. That would have to be remedied.

Luckily, Pan had a treat for them both in the form of a delectable blonde woman. Ophelia didn’t even wait for Mini to take the first bite before she sank her fangs into the woman’s leg, her screams echoing off the walls and surely startling someone in the establishment, even if it was a normal occurrence.

The woman fell towards Mini and she caught her with a coo. ”Shh…” she purred, smoothing the woman’s hair from her eyes as Ophelia continued to suckle her leg. ”It’ll all be over soon.” She drew the woman’s arm up with the tips of her fingers, curling her elbow so that Ministra could latch onto the girl’s wrist and finally, finally feed so that she could feel like herself again.

 

[Nimh]

They could feel the beat of the heart going as the woman died beneath them, Ophelia at the girl's leg and Mini at the wrist. Thump...thump.......thump.............thump..........................th.........

Ophelia shifted backwards, relief far too evident on her features as she licked the blood from the corners of her lips and from her fingertips. "Tasty. A little...drugged, though..." Ophelia could feel the haziness in her skull as she wobbled up to her feet. A little stumble here, a little stumble there. She shifted her shoulders back, rolled her neck. Nothing she couldn't deal with, though, and truthfully it felt kinda nice, pleasant even...relaxing, the way the drugs followed through her. Human Ophelia might have called it...contentment. Ministra could feel the same thing arching through her--a pleasantness, a contentment, a warmth that made her feel all tingly and happy inside. Happy...her.

"Hm. That's nice." She chuckled, leaning into the table to stare at Pan. "That wasn't very nice, though, Pan. Not very nice at all. Don't think that'll keep me away, though." She clicked her teeth at him before stepping backwards, ambling towards Ministra to hook an arm around her waist and hold her closely.

Maybe that was because feeling someone else felt awfully nice and no way did she actually want to touch Pan! Mini, though? Oh, she felt very nice. Hands wandered a little and her smile was maybe a little flirty as she situated herself, arm around Mini's waist.

"I'm tired of Pan, are you tired of Pan? Let's get away. It's almost dawn anyway and I'm really very sleepy." She wobbled forward, planting a kiss on Mini's lips. Because why not? Drugs said that was a good thing! "Don't want momma to be worried, you know?" Maybe her words were a little slurred but maybe not. Hard to say!

Pan just watched in silence, amused. No one moved to bother either woman.