RP:It's Time For Tea

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

This is a Warrior's Guild RP.

Summary: Also known as A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Fame: Part Two. Quintessa and Khitti seek out the group of shapeshifter bards that murdered others during their performance nearby at the Cenril Theatre.

Cenril Bridge, Between Cenril and Milous Plains

Khitti || Once a redhead and now no longer, an in-disguise Khitti made her way to the meeting spot on the Cenril bridge. Thankfully, for Quintessa, she’d not have to actually go into the city! When she got to the meeting spot, she’d be met with a venerable glam goth goddess in Khitti’s place. Runes along her violin case glowed a low purple as Khitti waited as patiently as her brain would allow. Those wine-red somewhat-wavy locks were now long thick black curls pulled back into two high pigtails, tied with dark green bows. An all-white outfit with hints of green were the attire for the evening; a spaghetti strap corset adorned her torso and a thickly layered, short petticoat were paired with white military-styles boots and makeup befitting a goth fairy. Certain things were a little off about her general look as well: her nose was a little pointier (somewhat like those Catalians’ sharp features), her eyes were blue instead of green, and she appeared to be just a wee bit taller--even her scent was different.

Khitti || For someone like Quintessa though, she wouldn’t need scent: Khitti’s magical signature was still the same--she had to leave -something- untouched so that the changeling would know it was her, after all. Whenever and however Quintessa arrived, Khitti’d be staring over the right side of the bridge, her attention on her surroundings gone for the moment, but when Quintessa would make herself known, Khitti’d pretend as if she’d been staring at nothing at all and ask her if she were ready. “Remember the plan. Crazed fangirls. I’ll wow them with my singing and violin and you make with the theatrics and swordplay. Because we’re all bards--besides you, of course--I can assure you… this is going to get weird.”

Quintessa 's disguise was a bit more on the side crazed than fangirl, though the changeling did manage to come looking strikingly different. In black and red harlequin style make-up, similar patterned catsuit, and bandoleer of throwing knives, the strange comes strolling along from the west, juggling three of her six throwing knives rather adeptly for someone who hadn't practiced since she was 13. Oh her back was a rather large scimitar, a prop for her flaming-sword-dance retinue she'd also been planning for when she encountered the murderous troop of shapeshifters. Quintessa was giddy by this point and had to keep reminding herself that she was not actually here to join the party- She was here to end it. Before daring to add a forth knife to her juggling act, the changeling spots Khitti is disguise and she gives the woman a devious smirk when the familiar taint of the shadow-plane is felt by her. " 'Lo, traveler," Quintessa says, catching her knives and giving Khitti a bow. "Here to see the performers? I hear they made a killing last time they were in town." The hex blade knew who she was but couldn't resist staying in character. "I want to pay my respects and share my own 'thespian' attributes, if you catch my meaning." The odd girl gives Khitti a wink as she spreads out the blades of her knives like a fan before her face.

Khitti did her best to withhold a snicker at Quintessa’s antic, but the smirk that was brought about was definitely visible. “I’d say that maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll find my silver-iron swords down there from when I died the second time around, buuuuut that went to a much deeper part of that chasm down there. Which is unfortunate because I liked those swords…” With a sigh and a shrug, Khitti’d lead the way down the side bridge, first by a long metal ladder that went to the closest and highest part of the chasm, and then by a trail that the shapeshifters had made from that direction, which soon met up with another that came from the Milous Plains side of the bridge that allowed for wagons and carriages to go down. There they’d find the large encampment that’d been home to the shapeshifters with a roaring fire going in the middle of it all and the shifters themselves joking and laughing and eating their dinner nearby. Once they got close enough, Khitti walked with a quick pace towards the edge of the camp, her usual demeanor gone entirely, “Omigawds, hi! Can me and my bff Jill talk to you?! We wanted to join your theatre group!” Some of the shifters stood up from their spots by the fire, cautiously wandering over to the two females, while the rest stayed behind to watch. “You… want to join us?” The leader of the group--a tall gangly male with a bright orange mohawk--took ‘center stage’ amongst his family, “How did you even find us down here?” With an air of bubbliness and obliviousness, Khitti just shrugged, smiling at the leader, “I followed you, silly! I’m one of your super-fans! I saw your performance in Cenril and loved it, so I told Jill about it and she’s hype too!” The seemingly human leader tilted his head somewhat at the two of them, then motioned towards the area with the fire, “C’mon then. Let’s see what you’ve got.” Those that had not joined them whispered amongst themselves and laughed, but the laughing was… strange and definitely not quite human. Khitti and Quintessa wouldn’t be given much time to ponder the oddity though for soon they were going to perform!

Quintessa was eager to perform! She carried Daedria in her heart and with her the love of music, parties, and most importantly- drama. "I'd love to!" chimes the changeling enthusiastically as she successfully front handsprings to the open space next to her. Sylphlike fingers tug three of her six throwing knives from her bandoleer and she begins to juggle them slowly, occasionally catching one behind her back to make it more entertaining. After a moment 'Jill' is in a groove and she adds a forth and then a fifth knife to her juggling. The knives fly higher and higher into the air to give her enough time to catch the next one and in preparation of her next flourish she tosses a knife extremely high before a hand moves to draw the sixth knife. Balancing on one leg, the teen brings up her left foot and balances the knife on her toe, extending her leg out to the side as she continues to juggle. Proud of her successful trick, the changeling grins, accidently showing off her sharp teeth. They totally wouldn't notice though, right?

Khitti clapped excitedly for her bff as she went about juggling all of those knives. Soon, to give the breathtaking performance some music, Khitti would bring out her violin. The same sort of runes that were on the case glowed as well along the body of the violin. “The runes look great in the dark! I just had to get them added when my parents bought me the violin, haha! I’ve got a great story to go with the song too! I think it’s something Coreliant” Notes began to pour eerily from the violin’s strings as the bow snaked carefully back and forth. Khitti’s skill was obvious, even to the surprise of the shifters. ♫There was a little girl, who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead and when she was good, she was very, very good.. But when she was bad, she was homicidal!♫ The music grew erratic, like hornets buzzing about angrily or a spider waiting in anticipation. ♫Hatchet… Check! Scalpel… Check! Rusty steel syringe… Check! It’s time for war! It’s time for blood! It’s time for TEA!♫ The currently raven-haired woman’s lips twisted into a cruel grin, something she hoped Quintessa would see. ♫One day that little girl may find a filthy metal spike and drive it right in the middle of your forehead… For she and her friends, this is very, very good, but for you the game is over – this is revolution!♫ The hand that held the violin’s bow whipped out unexpectedly, the silver string--whose existence had also been masked by the runes’ power--sliced into a poor unfortunate soul that’d been standing near her, entranced by her melody. The string cut cleanly, leaving behind not only a large spurt of blood to dramatically spew from the shifter’s throat, but tiny bits of silver as well, which burned and smoked the flesh that it clung to.

Khitti || There was a collective gasp, not only from the victim, but the rest of the theatre group as well. They watched as their comrade choked on his own blood and fell to the ground, sitting there in silence. And then… there was laughter. The unnatural sort that Khitti and Quintessa had heard only minutes before. The laughter started from the man with the mohawk and filtered out through the crowd. They sounded like a pack of hyenas. Why? Because that’s what they were--werehyenas. “Corelient will love this indeed, girls. Did you think we didn’t know you’d be coming? Khitti… Red… I’d know that violin anywhere.” More laughter. The popping and cracking sounds that came with shifting was soon made known, the laughter like nails on a chalkboard. Now, Khitti and Quintessa had to deal with creepy-looking anthropomorphic freaks. And the only thing that Khitti cared about? “You… didn’t let me finish my song.”

Quintessa kicked up the knife that balanced on her foot, flipping it around before she quickly switched legs she was balancing on arced her leg around to knock the throwing knife in the direction of the lead werehyena. "Don't forget about me!" The mohawked man brought up his arm and the steel blade bit into his forearm, causing another round of laughter to erupt from him. Quintessa growls as she catches a second knife and hurls it in his direction with a bit more force than the second, but it only manages to find its mark a few inches from the first. "That's not going to work, girlie," he says as he lowers his guard, the rest of his clan moving to join him with grins on their faces, each one in a different stage of their shapeshifting process. The changeling knew this wasn't going to work on lycans and she had a contingency for this normally, but her vials silver-laced vampire blood were back with her invisibility cloak. Quintessa was going to have to do this the hard way. "Tear her apart," Mohawk says, his attention returning to Khitti, "Red is mine." A pair of werehyenas rush past him, each shifted into muscular anthropomorphic beasts with jaws that could crush bones, both creating a creepy laughter that could make Quintessa jealous. The first shifter brings his teeth close to the changeling's neck, attempting to rip out her jugular and end her involvement quickly so they could focus on the templar, but Quintessa has other ideas. The girl ducks and steps forward, flipping a knife to her left hand before bringing it up into the jaw of the hyena, pinning his mouth closed as she grips his body and uses his body to block the attack of the second. His claws accidently rake into his clanmate's back, and muffled screams replace the laughter coming from him. Quintessa knew she couldn't rest here, however, and she vaults into the lycan's shoulders before bringing down all her momentum on the second, a throwing knife brutally logged in his eye socket as he falls prone with the changeling on his chest. Quintessa sincerely hoped Khitti was faring better than she was, because the changeling felt unprepared to deal with werehyenas.

Khitti || “If you know who I am, then you know who my sister is and it’s well known that she’s a lycan now, thanks to that little trial she had to testify in,” Khitti said as she backed away somewhat, attempting to give herself more space as Quintessa took on the others. “How much -do- you know about me? Should I be flattered? Will it make my husband jealous?” She batted her eyes cutely at Mohawk, her violin brought to her chin. Her taunting only made the shifter leader cackle again as he edged ever closer to her, claws and fangs bared, saliva dripping from his lips, “I know about your mother and how she killed that person in the theater.” Khitti let out a laugh of her own now, “Oh? That’s it? -Everyone- knows about that. But there’s something about that that you -don’t- know…” She paused, smirked at the werehyena, and began to play erratically once more, “I am -exactly- like my mother.” It was true, sadly. She had her mother’s short temper, as well as the murderous tendencies that her dearly departed maternal parent had had when she came back as a banshee briefly. The notes became ethereal-sounding the more she played, while shadow-stepping around in an effort to keep away from him. Being a human, she really didn’t need to get injured by a werebeast. She was -not- going through all that hell again for another cure. For a short time, it seemed like nothing was working. The bardic magic was there, twinged with her dark magic from the Shadow Plane, and yet… there was nothing. Had she truly lost the ability to control the dead?

Khitti || It seemed as such as Khitti darted about. Mohawk was tiring of these antics and started calculating where she was popping up and when. It wasn’t until the werehyena caught her by the throat suddenly that her ethereal melody was suddenly answered. The souls of those that had been sacrificed to Coreliant had not disappeared as they would have for Vakmathras. They were merely blood for a greedy wannabe god and that greed had now turned to wrath, in the form of angry ghosts. The spirits attacked everyone but Quintessa and Khitti, a well-placed banshee cry given to the leader just as he was about to crush Khitti’s throat oh-so-carefully. Khitti’s released as the werehyena clutched his ears in agony. The templar doesn’t hesitate to finally strike back, careful swishes and flicks given with the violin bow tear the shifter’s flesh apart, leaving his skin smoking just as before. As he’s busy howling in pain and swiping furiously at the ghosts, Khitti’d ripped the silver wire from her precious violin bow and wrapped the ends around her head. “Who’s tearing apart who, dear?” was the last thing he’d hear as Khitti shadow-stepped behind him and went full Queen of Hearts--it was off with his head!

Quintessa brings another knife down on the face of the lycan she had pinned, her mouth pulled wide into a horrible grin as she continues to stab her target. The screeching sound of the spirit of wrath stunned the clan of hyenas long enough for her to exhaust her remaining knives, burying them all into his face until he was no longer struggling. "Die! Die! Di-" The werehyena behind her has already recovered, her attacks before negligible for the resistant lycan, and he grabs the girl by her shoulders and slams her into the ground. "Ack!" Quintessa lets out, her lithe form battered into the ground by the much larger beast. The changeling lies stunned for a moment, her mismatched eyes trying to refocus as the hyena prepares to shred her into ribbons. The claws come down but the changeling flips backwards, remembering the similar position she found herself in when the changeling fought Rorin in Frostmaw, and she skids to her feet a mere meter away from her assailant. Shaking off her dizziness, Quintessa quickly reaches for her sword, whipping the scimitar from her back and slicing a horizontal line through the werehyena's face to leave a painful gash through his nose. The swordswoman edges backwards, mismatched eyes glancing over at the remaining clan as they fight against the suppression of the angry spirit. The one engaging her was still a problem, but Quintessa had a plan to finish him off. Catching him while he was still dazed, the hex blade brings her sword up into a window guard and concentrates, focusing all her mana into a pinpoint attack. "Goleuni..." Electricity begins to spark along the edge of her blade as her magic enchants the mundane metals of the scimitar. "llachar!" Quintessa thrusts forward, her blade sliding into torso of the beast as the electricity from her spell arcs up to the knife still stuck in his face, frying the area all around it as he twitches violently. He fights for only a few seconds more before he is still and the changeling frees her weapon to face the rest of them. But could she keep this up? Lycans were kind of tough…

Khitti || Now that the leader had been dispatched, Khitti could help focus on the others that threatened the changeling. As she got her own bearings again after dealing with Mohawk, Khitti saw Quintessa flat on her back and dazed--but unfortunately, there were still others to go through in order to get to the girl in the first place. Her violin is quickly set aside, the string from the bow still kept in hand as she directed the spirits towards their murderers, “Get them! Do what they did to you! Make them bleed! Make them -pay- for their crimes!” Some of the werehyenas were lifted by their ethereal attackers and thrown into the abyss-like gorge nearby, some were possessed by the spirits and made to slay their own kind, and the rest were killed in good old fashioned cold blood. Hearts were ripped out, eyes and ears made to bleed from the shrieking of the banshee cries. But there was still that pesky hyena that was giving Quintessa a hard time. Using the string like a garrote wire again, Khitti shadowstepped her way to the shifter, her hands and the string finding their way around its throat. “Should you die like your leader? Or should I have more fun with killing you?” The hyena hesitated, eyes widened with fear from the threat of silver, its line of sight locked on Quintessa. “Hm? What do you think, Quintessa? Or would you like to do the honors?”

Quintessa was breathing heavily but her stance was strong. Her daily training made her a formidable foe even against races that were much stronger and faster that her. Still, the changeling was certain if she would have been able to take them alone. Khitti was a fantastic ally and Quintessa was proud to have her as a teacher. When the templar offered the odd girl the final kill she blushed, her eyes filled with a strange glazed over look. "You would let me kill him?" Her demeanor shifted from something that was nearing cute to something twisted and awful. "Let's do it together!" Quintessa holds her scimitar out to the side, her mana flickering from lightning to fire from basic concentration and her sword ignites in a bright conflagration. "Rhuban tân!" she shouts, and the fires come together to form a plasma-like whip of flames that eerily floats around her until she snaps them around the ankles of her intended victim. "Get ready for the curtain call." With a nod to Khitti to tighten her noose, Quintessa rips the feet right out from under the shapeshifter before her can react, making heads roll a second time this evening. With the last one dead Quintessa dispels her flames, her scorched weapon wining and creaking under the abuse of the girl's magic. "We did it," she says to Khitti, a look of pride on her face and in her posture. "You were amazing- I didn't know you could summon -spirits-."

Khitti tilted her head curiously at Quintessa as she suggested killing him together. There was an odd sort of feeling that was going on in Khitti’s chest--and surprisingly, it wasn’t the magic-induced heart attack again. No, it was the unmistakable feeling of affection. In a very Brand fashion, she was half-disgusted by this notion, though it wasn’t necessarily -because- of the girl. She had sworn not to let anyone else in, not to let them pierce her heart again and yet… this girl was doing just that. There’s a slight feeling of nausea at the thought, but Khitti pushed it aside, merely nodding in response to the changeling as she made the call for Khitti to tighten the silver wire. The wire dug into the man’s flesh and burned as it cut, while Quintessa took care of the rest. Once that was said and done, Khitti did her best not to smirk at the girl, but failed utterly. “I didn’t either, for a long time. When I was reborn again, I found I had a bit of bardic ability. I think it might have to do with that violin. It’s very very old. It mixes the bardic magic with my own dark. I used it for a time in Frostmaw in the forbidden city, acting as their carers. Like a sort of shepherd with a very odd flock.” She shrugged and paused, eyeing the girl carefully. There’s minor hesitation, but Khitti eventually nodded again, offering a faint smile to the Dragana girl, “You did well too, Quintessa. Even with the use of verbal components, you are certainly very capable.” An air of awkward hit Khitti somewhat, and she’s quick to shift her attention elsewhere. The spirits still floated about, lost, now that their targets were dead. She could not play the violin again, to send them away, but thankfully, she still had some amount of control on them. “All of you: leave this place. Take solace in the retribution you’ve brought upon your killers and seek out Vakmathras or the void. Do not stray here any longer, lest you be manipulated by someone else.” The souls hesitated, evidence of her waning power over them, but they soon dissipated, to choose where their final resting place would be. Khitti sighed. She actually looked a little sad, but she would not stay where she’d been standing for long. The templar set to burning the bodies, dark purple flames engulfing their forms until they were nothing more than ash. “I’ll have my assistant deal with this. We have… people to take care of this sort of thing when it’s needed. Go tell my brother you took care of it.”

Quintessa returns her scimitar to the scabbard on her back as she listens to Khitti and she retrieves her throwing knives before Khitti burns them along with the bodies. "Every now and then you let slip a little bit about yourself- that you burned in Arkhen's flames and were reborn. You've even let on that you have a family, and I know where to find them... Yet... You're still so guarded around me." Quintessa frowns, unsure why she was saying all this. "I'm not a threat to you. You should know this by now. At first you kind of pissed me off but I-" The girl stops herself and shakes her head, clearly embarrassed about what she had said. "You know what? Forget it. I'll head back to Frostmaw as soon as possible."

Khitti || “It’s… difficult to explain, Quintessa,” Khitti said, before the girl could leave, olive-green eyes fixed on anything but her. “Hate and anger and jealousy do a lot to a person. I could talk about my deaths for hours if I was able, but letting people in fully is different. It’s harder for me to do right now than it is to kill someone. Even now, as Rorin scolds me about needing to let go of the past and forgive, I am incapable of doing so. He doesn’t think I should have Tenbatsu Kaji. Wonders why Cyris has given me magic to use in his name. I let that kid in enough to help me lead the Devout’s Guild and days later he’s lecturing me like I’m an idiot when he knows nothing about me. I can’t -be- what any of these people want me to be because it’s -not me-. I don’t know why Cyris chose me. I don’t know why anyone chooses me. At least Vakmathras and Delisha make sense because I am surrounded by death always and I have come to enjoy every godsdamned minute of it. Fate constantly torments me, whether in prophecies in other planes of existence or in everyday things and it is tiring.” Khitti hadn’t meant to say that much, and yet much in the same way that Khitti had pulled on Brand’s heart strings, Quintessa pulled at her own. And it only made her angry. “-People- are tiring… because I cannot fulfill what they need and I have to put an end to it in whatever way fits the situation.”

Quintessa halts her exit, her short ebon bob blowing softly in the cold winter air. The teen turns around slowly, her mismatched eyes searching for the lie in her face and her ears listening for the lie in her voice. Quintessa could tell Khitti wasn't trying to deceive her. "Rorin is a dumb boy- too high on his sanctimony to know the struggles of -real- people. Not all of us are content with following the oppressive rules of old men. Some of us know what it feels like to have our freedom restricted- to be beaten, locked away, and forgotten. Some of us-" Quintessa is cut off by a short sob, tears beginning to fill her eyes as memories of being abused by her father resurface. The changeling takes a moment to push those thoughts to the back of her mind again before she continues. "If you weren't worthy then you wouldn't have the Tenbatsu Kaji- You wouldn't have your magic. Who is Rorin to talk down to -you-?" Quintessa pauses for a moment to sigh and she gives the templar a smirk, "People equal shit." she says flatly, "At least when I'm around you it doesn't feel like nails on a chalkboard. I like you."

Khitti just smiled faintly and shrugged, “He doesn’t like the fact that I opened up the guild to the people that follow the darker or neutral gods. Kid doesn’t like a lot of things I do. I’m honestly surprised he took the job in the first place, heh.” After a moment, Khitti just shook her head and sighed. “Go home. It’s been a long night. Maybe we’ll talk more when we have your first lesson.” Even if Quintessa wasn’t tired from that fight, Khitti sure was and it was starting to show. Though, perhaps, some of that was the emotional exhaustion wearing through now as well. “And do your best to be safe.”