Lilliana Bloodshine

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About Lilliana Bloodshine

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    Senior Member
  1. Xara sketches

    Good stuff
  2. TNG Con 2017!

    <3
  3. Zanas Stick Figures

    I still don't get it <3
  4. Extreme Justice

    ((Kill))
  5. Derecho: Invisible Sun

    Derecho had just slunk away and left the dysfunctional group behind. Despite that Derecho has left, the demon hunter and the older, large troll continued speaking. Tyinielran seems to want to get the last world in following his insult to Vol'jin, “There i will have to dissagree with you troll, but that is your opinion and your right to it. “ Nojinbu shook his head at the elf "den ya be doomed ta follow ahll dat follow ya. ah feel sorry fa ya den." Tylinierlran gave a retort with a most arrogant statement, “And I pity you, troll.” To this Nojinbu sighed. He now realizeed that he can get no further in his discussion with Tylinierlan. Lilliana whispered over to Tahzani as the argument seemsed to come to a close, "I don't feel good." The green skinned warlocked look Lilliana over, before he leaned back to her and asked, “Wanna get outta heah?” Instead of giving him a clear answer, the priestess troll merely shrugs her shoulders in a somewhat listless fashion. Perhaps she's still keen to listen to the continued argument and disrespect going on. Tahzani pressed when Lilliana failed to supply him with a proper answer, “...Jah not feelin' alright Lilly? Lookin' a bit tired.” Lilliana shook her head in her answer. Then, as she seemed to physically start to wilt she playfully flicked at the tip of Tahzani's silly hat. Tahzani smirked, “Das a yes. Come on... Let's get outta heah.” He tugged on her hand lightly, pulling her towards the large arena doors to leave. Lilliana allowed herself to be pulled, and even helped by using her free hand to shove off from the crate, "Bye Nojinbu.....bye Fayleah.....bye....." She paused and looks at those left. "Bye weirdos." Tahzani echoed Lilliana, “Gnight everbody.” The others waved and offered wishes of a good, safe night. Once the troll pair were outside in the fel tainted air of Orgrimmar and the Brawl’gar arena at their backs, Tahzani began to state the obvious, “….Lilly... Jah not lookin' so good….” Lilliana was indeed not looking good. It had taken a good amount of time for Derecho to feel as bad as Lilliana had come to feel in a matter of minutes. The priestess was never known for her physical stamina, and perhaps it was this weakness in her that allowed the workings of what lied within the pouch to take hold of her so quickly. She didn't understand the severe burning in her gut. Whatever it was it had raced up to her throat, causing a violent sensation of nausea that she was not able to control. When Tahzani started to make his statement, Lilliana had already darted away from Tahzani, releasing his hand. Even as he offered his concerned observation she had crouched to vomit right over the little hill in clear sight to those coming and going to the Brawl'gar Arena. She meant to go further and to be discreet…. but the urge caught her and despite being a priest herself, there was nothing she could do. There was no bravery of being stoic, no withholding and ignoring her physical desire to expel. It simply happened, she was powerless and she was more than mortified at such a display. “...Oh geez….” Tahzani reached out to hold her hair back, and even as she continued to wretch violently, he brought a hand to her forehead, checking for a sudden fever. He was aware of how such things were exceedingly rare for trolls, but exceptions were often made. Lilliana only tried to brush Tahzani away, both from touching her forehead gently and from holding her hair. Grim simply did not get sick, or at the very least let others see them ill. But her attempt to push him from her was weak, and only resulted in her having to grip the red sand of the hill and vomit once more. She could only do one or the other, and being sick forced itself as a priority right now. If Tahzani was nauseated himself by this display, he didn’t show it. He merely maintained his hold on her hair, gently keeping the red strands from her face and mouth, “....Oookay...Oookay Lilly...One moah time an' jah should be good fah de road.” Lilliana took a breath as she seemed to rid herself of the last of it. She gave poor Tahzani a momentarily dirty look, even if she did appreciate him holding her hair. This had actually never happened to her, let alone with Tahzani present to witness and provide aide. It was exceptionally embarrassing for her. "I'm good." As gross as it was she spit out the remnants she tasted in her mouth, dropping her head so it's not as visible. Tahzani attempted to check her forehead again, and discovered that there was no hint of a fever there. “Sorry, Tahzani.” Lilliana groaned, leaning back to take another breath. Tahzani handed her some water from his pouch which she down surprisingly quick and without hesitation. Rather odd for someone who just vomited half their innards out. “...Ain't nothin' jah did.” Tahzani was trying to be calming but when he drew his hand away from her forehead he was stuck with a look of confusion, “...No Fevah...Perhaps a reaction ta sometin' jah ate or drank.” Probably moving too quickly, Lilliana shrugged her shoulders and forced herself up to her feet, "Yeah." Perhaps she now looked a tad better after having drank the water. Indeed she had felt a momentary coolness through her throat and down into her gut, relieving her for the moment of this strange fever inside - the fever that Tahzani couldn't feel. Tahzani didn’t seem to think that this was something she had eaten, for he eyed her suspiciously as he left her side to bring his motorcycle, parked around the edge of the arena around to her. “I think I'm just sick of the night.” Lilliana uncomfortably climbed onto the bike behind Tahzani. She grinned. Tahzani’s reply was somewhat hesitant, “...Stress maybe…..But jah been through so much worse.” He drove them out of Orgrimmar and nearly turned left to go towards his boat. However, he turned sharply away from it, his tone holding some frustration, “Lilly ah don' know where ta go...” There was unrest on the streets, even just on the outskirts of Orgrimmar, and the familiar sound of blades hit their ears as they drove past, “Well....let's just set out a freaking tent....um.....far away from like, the legion ships in the air. I'm not going back to the Grim's halls tonight, I'm staying with you." This was frustrating, for the pair were unable to go to Lilliana’s quarters in the Grim, and other locations were too exposed to Legion threats. Tahzani grumbled, “...Notin' be fah enough away.” Lilliana bit her lip as she started to struggle once more with what could only be described as burning deep into her gut. She worked on pretending that she was fine as she clung to Tahzani, "I know...but it's better than staying in Orgrimmar....." “...Alright dey haven't attacked de harbor yet...We'll getcha a hotel ta sleep it off in.” Tahzani headed off towards the familiar goblin town of Bildgewater, where he had run the Cantina for over a year. Once he entered the town and rolled up to one of the small inns, he squirmed uncomfortably. The sudden violent illness without a fever was not sitting well with him. As a troll himself, he understood the severe rarity of catching a sudden bug. Their natural rejuvenation, fueled by the troll peoples initial connections to the Loas seemed to stall all natural illness. Trolls suffered and died from battle-wounds and from battle, not from a virus or infection. Tahzani urged Lilliana off of the bike, “...Make jahself comfortable. I'll see about rentin'” Lilliana followed his instructions, stepping into the room that opened to the dirty goblin streets while Tahzani left to sort out the room for the pair. Located in the corner of the room, hanging from a thin cord that had been nailed in from one edge of the wall to the other, were some goblin sized undergarments. These must have been left to dry and then forgotten by previous residents. Lilliana first noticed the tiny pair of pokadotted underpants, which hung from a single pin. Of course she reached out to pluck it down. Stretching that way made her wince and clutch her stomach, but she still had obtained her prize. She straightened and went to the door, waiting for Tahzani to return. She twirled the underwear around a finger, standing in the doorway with a ridiculous, coy expression that she planned to present Tahzani with as soon as his return. She didn't have to wait long, for soon came Tahzani, his expressed soured with a displeased grimace. Lilliana held out the undergarment, "Think these would fit you?" She grinned. Tahzani blinked and found himself speechless. Sometimes Lilliana’s sense of humor was too bizarre. Lilliana giggled, pointing to the old clothes left hanging in the room with the hand that's holding the silly tiny underwear. Tahzani's eyes followed, “Eesh... Who wears dis shit? How jah feelin'?” Lilliana leaned against the doorframe. At first she outright lied, “Fine.” Then she seemed to rethink that, and changed her answer, “Bad. And why, what's with the grimace? Can't stay here?" Tahzani shook his head, “….no... No we can. Dey just bloodsuckahs...” He stepped into the room with Lilliana and shut the door behind him, “Can jah describe it? Suddenly jah needed ta vomit?” Her reply as he led her into the room was to toss the pokadotted underwear at Tahzani's head. "Stomachache." It was more than that, the pain that began growing in her stomach had not initially made her nauseous, but as they had stepped out of the arena it had simply become too intense as it raced, like a fier gone out of control, up through her chest and her throat. Now she merely felt a dull ache that threatened to blossom once again to the earlier intensity. She was grateful it now just lurked. This she could bear, although it was not pleasant. "I'm cool, Tahzani, though, seriously." Tahzani was not too amused at her toss of the tiny article of clothing. Tahzani snapped it out of the air and threw it aside, stopping in his stride. Lilliana moved forward to sit down on a bench that had two plush pillows on either side. Something had suddenly occured to Tahzani, and he took no time in asking her in a blunt, direct manner. Tahzani found himself staring intently at the red haired priestess and asked, “...Lilly when's de last time jah bled?” After she got herself comfortable, she looked up to Tahzani and shot him a wry grin, jokingly saying, “Oh yeah, I’m pregnant!” Tahzani nodded, “...Maybe just sometin' jah ate den. Stress can wreak havoc.” Lilliana muttered to herself afterwards, "When is the last time I bled...." She grabbed one of the pillows from the bench and chucked it at Tahzani. He dodged the pillow. She didn’t offer up a good toss anyway, half weak from her earlier vomiting incident. Lilliana took the remaining pillow, and clutched in her lap, against her stomach. Tahzani frowned, sitting beside her with concern. “I think that's all you've done tonight.” Lilliana pointed out, reaching out to touch the scar on Tahzani’s lip to indicate his frown that stretched it. “You’ve only frowned, all night.” “Das not true.” Tahzani argued, “...Ah smiled when ah saw jah tonight.” Lilliana seemed to like his clever response, “Well, since then I mean.” “Heh. Well ah'm honest... Be a fault.” Lilliana put her staff down beside her and stretched out along the bench. She used Tahzani’s lap as a pillow, resting her head there. “There are like, bombs in here.” Her eyes went to the corner of the room. Indeed, there was a pile of very small, yet very dangerous bombs resting there. “It's a goblin built place. Course dere be bombs” "What if one went off?" “Den we'd have more of a breeze.” “Oooooooooooooooooooooh…….!” Lilliana nodded, grinning foolishly. She clutched the pillow to her stomach firmly. Tahzani chuckled, stroking her hair. Even at his soothing gesture, she stiffened, her stomach burning and eating away at her innards. Soon it would break through her skin and there would be an open hole that lead directly into her gut. At least, that's how it felt. Instead of complaining, she asked, "You like all the goblin shit, huh....?" “Moah like ah'm used ta it. Paht a doin' business.” "Well, I guess you were always used to sleeping with bombs." She referrred to the enormous ones that had been in the bottom of Tahzani's boat.” “...An' a few months ago Ah got used ta sleepin' wit a bombshell even.” Lilliana was nodding, but couldn’t help disguise a small wince and involuntary groan, “A bombshell....?" “I'll tell jah latah.” Tahzani looked down to her. The wince and the groan of course had not escaped him. She was on his lap, he was going to notice, and at this point he was rather attuned to her. Everything at this point was enhanced by his concern and fine-tuned by his raising suspicions that this was not normal. “Fine.” Lilliana sounded disappointed and partly annoyed. Tahzani was probably going to suggest she be quiet and try to sleep next. Who was he to tell her what she should do? If that had been Tahzani’s plan, he did not get the chance to suggest it. Lilliana suddenly flung the pillow off of her stomach. The burning in her gut had risen up to her throat again, and the resulting pain had her spinning and nauseous. She bolted outside, almost banging straight into the door before she yanked it open rather desperately. She spun out in the middle of the street, unsure of where to go. The harbor was too many steps away. She darted into the alley alongside the room they rented. Lilliana had moved so fast that Tahzani barely had a chance to keep up with her. Luckily she hadn’t been able to go far. She hit the edge of the wall along the alley, drawing a hand up over her along the metal sheeting of the wall. If she could dig her nails and fingers straight through the metal she probably would have, so much was her discomfort growing. She was trying to breath deeply, but each time she opened her mouth it felt like flames would escape that had billowed up from the depths of her gut. In a way they did, for on her third, deep breath she was violently sick, vomiting at first on the edge of the metal wall, and then leaning away to hit the ground with her disgusting sick. She then remained there for quite some time, alternating between the pain in her gut dominating and the resulting nausea. She was completely helpless and overcome. If this had happened when she was out on an assault she would clearly have been targeted and killed almost immediately. Lilliana's level of misery heightened as the evening wore on, and had progressed so severely at one point it was a miracle that Tahzani was ever able to lead her back inside. At some point there is nothing left in you to expel, even if you still feel that each time you open your mouth that you'll breath fire along with cooked innards sliding up through your throat. The warlock would comfort her as he could through the night, respecting her desire for this particular situation to not be broadcast even to a local healer. Well, he would at least respect that for the night. However, as she worsened in the early hours of the morning to the point of tears that she refused to shed, Tahzani seriously began to suspect foul play.
  6. Derecho: Invisible Sun

    ((Oooooo!))
  7. Missteps

    Nearly a week had gone by since Lilliana and Tahzani had crossed paths or communicated in some fashion or another. They had run into eachother briefly at the Wyvern’s Tail, after Lilliana had set out to meet one of her Supplicant’s, the firemage, Le’sara. When she entered she found the place packed. One of the occupants was Tahzani. The resulting discomfort and awkwardness was obvious to the both of them. Tahzani wearily raised his hand to greet Lilliana, “Eya, Lilly.” At first Lilliana was unsure of what to do. However, her instinctive thought process that inevitably revolved around self preservation and manipulating the situation kicked in. It was almost immediate that the priestess deemed to include Tahzani in a group greeting, not singling him out as one would think she would – or how she KNEW that she should. Her words and waves were meant for the multitude of patrons present, including Tahzani as merely one of them. After she was satisfied with that the only thing that suggested she regretted the greeting was that she eyed Tahzani on her way up the stairs with Le'sara. Although she felt a pang of regret there, it was time to discuss Grim topics and she could not look the least bit distracted. Once Lilliana was done with Le’sara, she returned downstairs. Tahzani and Selash had been engaged in their own conversation for the duration of Lilliana’s with her firey Supplicant. Lilliana had kept half an ear to their words, although she was not able to catch the entire conversation. Selash was just leaving, and on his way out he gestured to Tahzani while staring at her. “Give the guy a break, alright?“ Selash seemed to only know how to provide blunt observations and suggestions, even when these were given in public amidst multiple ears and eyes. A result of his exaggerated cockiness that bordered or a word that is none too polite. Tahzani had attempted to intervene, whirling to clap an oversized troll hand across Selash’s mouth a sentence too late. Apparently the two had been talking about the fight between Tahzani and Lilliana. The priestess momentarily offered a blank look, as if she didn't understand. She clearly did understand, and that simple encounter made her wish her reply would be different than how she felt herself leaning. This was as much her fault, if not more her fault, as the warlock’s. However, she failed to acknowledge Selash and only muttered something with a grin to say goodbye to him on his way out. For some time she fidgeted awkwardly near one of the braziers, lingering in the tavern when she could very well have left. Sometime through the din and racket of the tavern, she found herself to the bar, settling herself a few feet beside Tahzani. She remained there in silence. Tahzani had attempted, on a couple of occasions to gain her attention through the mind link that they shared while in the tavern. The first time Tahzani gave Lilliana a ‘mental nudge’ to gain her attention she was minimally responsive. She easily knew that he was there and what he was attempting, but he received no mental reply from her. Instead, when she stood at the bar with him she slid her mug of juice his way as perhaps a form of acknowledgement. It did little to make him feel better. The second time he attempted to gain her attention, she did reply. He gave his usual nudge, mentally, the most that he could muster in their connection. Tahzani was rewarded somewhat. “Hi Tahzani, what’s up?” She replied quickly at this time to their mental link. She kept it superficial, her tone bland. To the other patrons she appeared to be leaning casually, and perhaps listlessly against the bar. Now that he had her attention, Tahzani wanted to say many things. Wanted to demand explanations. Express his own hurt. Apologize profusely. Go into a rage as she STILL acted as if nothing happened. What he did do was begin to apologize. " ... Ah shouldn't have said it." He thought to her. “It’s fine, Tahzani.” Was Lilliana’s mental and simple reply to him. If Lilliana knew what a slap that would feel to Tahzani, she did not seem to let on within her mental tone. Outwardly she was fidgeting at the bar, however she often behaved like a bored child and it was unlikely that the others present, even if watching the two troll, would think much of it. “….It’s really not….” Tahzani mind whispered back. Perhaps, at the urging of Lilliana’s lackluster response, Tahzani realized that trying to express an apology or even speak to her at this moment was futile. There were too many elves and regular patrons present and making noise in the tavern. Even with the added bonus of Lilliana’s priestly mind link, where they could technically discuss things in ‘private’, Lilliana did not seem to feel that it was private enough, at least, that is what Tahzani guessed and hoped. This would need to be handled when they were alone. The warlock whispered a mental question through their mind link, "Can we... Can we talk latah?" Lilliana’s thoughts were still a moment, but eventually were heard in Tahzani’s mind “You told me to come back 'latah'. I just....haven't. So like, yeah…I guess.” Tahzani felt the sting of Lilliana’s indifference, even though it was expected, "... Ah don' wanna give it all up because a dis. I'll... I'll talk to jah soon." Tahzani shook his head while he drained the last of his whiskey from a rather tall glass. He had been drinking heavily that night and the slight slump in his already sloughed posture was an indication that it was starting to take it’s toll. “Righ’” He said to those in the tavern, including the bartender, Gravy, “Ah’m off. Everybody have a good night now.” Tahzani blinked, for Gravy was motioning to Tahzani’s pocket. “….fine. Ah’ll – walk – home. Wasn’t gonna ride anyway.” Tahzani snorted and then stumbled slightly, stepping away. He caught his balance on the table, slightly tipsy but still mobile. Faylea interrupted her own conversation with the other multitude of elves present to offer helpfully to Tahzani, “Maybe take a bed upstairs?” Tahzani wouldn’t consider such a thing, “BAH! If Ah wan’ fleas Ah’ll get ‘em at home! …… Wait…. No.” Solaniel, a blood elf new to this tavern offered a vague wave, “Best of luck, friend. Don’t end up in the gutters. “He’ll be fine.” T’suro said with all the confidence of a righteous paladin. “I should hope!” Solaniel nodded, turning away back to their conversation as Tahzani continued with his stumbling walk. To those in the tavern, Lilliana only seemed to be quietly watching Tahzani leave. She felt her grip tighten where she was holding the bar, leaning against it. She almost opened her mouth to offer to go with Tahzani in his half drunken state. It felt wrong not to, considering how nearly every night was spent with the warlock. But, what happened was that verbally she offered him no goodbye. Physically she raised no hand to wish him pleasantly on his way or to suggest that he stop and that they make 'latah' now. Lilliana was restrained in thought to him as her words were heard within his mind, “Goodnight, Tahzani.” She had closed her eyes as she thought this to him. Neither the patrons, nor Tahzani (who was nearly out the door) noticed. “Goodnight Lilly,” came Tahzani’s reply as he disappeared out the door. The elves continued their conversation, with Faylea asking as she went to the bar to gain a refill on her drink, “Hey so I probably missed it. But what brings a Farstrider into Orgrimmar?” She was asking Solaniel, the new elf. Solaniel paused in his drinking, having just touched his glass to his lips in order to answer her, "Official business. Just meeting with contacts here and there to exchange information." Lilliana didn’t join in with the elves, instead with a quick move of her arm she whacked her mug of juice (which had been resting innocently on the bartop), into the bottles behind the bar. The resulting upset with a huge smashing of glass and pottery. Liquid spilled everywhere, including over Gravy’s feet. This particular bartender did not have Tahzani’s level of patient, and he hissed and swore loudly. Faylea had only just come to the bar. Her face fell in overaggerated depression. What would she get to drink now? Tsuro spun around, almost bellowing at Lilliana, “………the hell was THAT for?” Faylea tried to salvage, “Eh... bring me whatever isn't broken.” She said to Gravy. Anock wandered into the tavern at just that time, happily humming to himself. He deactivated his helm to fold into his armor. He stretched then digested the scene before him. “Uhh....what storm hit here? T’suro provided an answer, somewhat flat, “….the storm’s name was Lilliana.” Solaniel decided to provide very important input as he sighed, "So many good drinks were just wasted..." He tipped his glass back to his lips, "Most of that was probably rotgut anyway..." Lilliana was merely standing there, apparently shocked at what she did. She had not even though, just reacted. Her arm seemed to have a mind of it’s own and had been bent on furious destruction. She almost looked dumb at the disaster she had caused. Faylea saw Lilliana’s distressed look, “You alright over there Lilli?” Lilliana covered up the shock at her own behavior with a shrug, "Yeah." She waved in a rather absent manner to the group. It was almost like a switch had been flicked, and she now refused to acknowledged anything had just happened. As she moved to leave, she did not offer to clean or to pay for the mess her brief tantrum caused. “Oh heya, Ms. Lilly....Were those Alliance drinks?” Anock smirked, hoping to alleviate the mood a bit. Lilliana replied with sarcasm, "Yeah, all those drinks broken there fucking Gravy was saving for the Alliance. They were poison anyway, I saved you ALL." This elicited a blink from Anock. “Ummmm…alright, Ms. Lilly…have….a good one…?” Behind Lilliana Faylea followed, commenting, “You seem moody even for you ….. “ Lilliana did not stop, her reply to Faylea was somewhat cold, "Yeah, maybe it's my time of the month...." Faylea was left shrugging behind the female troll.
  8. Lilliana's Journal

    ((I don't know why I have so much trouble with the darned formatting....)) Lilliana sat with her journal in her lap. She was enclosed by pale, yellowing canvas. Perhaps she was in a tent. Outside the light was dim, and her journal was illuminated by the glowing of her priestly staff. The journal was opened to the last page she had written on from her few and rare entries. All the butterflies Lilliana drew on this page and the previous pages were scratched out, either by a repeated line drawn over in a frenzy, or by the pen actually poking holes directly through the paper. Trust is a fragile thing. Like a butterfly. No, trust is like a freaking eraser. She took a moment to attack the other butterfly drawings and made an attempt to erase the entire thing. This left dark smudges upon the pages or ripped the paper. One thing that is clear, is that once something of beauty was on the page, but is now just a disjointed mess of ugly. It gets smaller with every mistake. Yes, eraser works. But so does butterfly. You erase bits of it’s pretty wings each time you make a mistake, but it doesn’t go away clean, instead there is a mess of fragmented wings….or like…..as on my stupid journal page, flecks of charcoal and pencil and ink and ripped pages and…and…..and…..and…….. What a mess. Now it can’t fly. It’s just a body with no wings. That would suck to be a butterfly with no wings. May as well have no heart. Look in the mirror!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Eraser, eraser, eraser! Eraser. Lilliana rested her hand down upon the page. When she lifted it again, her skin was left with the dark coloring she used upon her journal to write. Later she would brush her face with that hand, and stain the skin of her face. I said the last time I wrote in here, that deception and manipulation doesn’t work in survival of all things. That’s for war. That’s for politics. Blah blah blah. I understood that there’s no place for that shit in a home….where like, without trust shit just breaks down because um, there is no foundation. Right…..? I don’t know. I really don’t know. I like, look at myself and don’t know. No, I know what I’m doing. No, that’s a lie. Liar! Following her last comment, the rest of the page is full of pure ink. It appeared that Lilliana simply sat there and repeatedly drew her pen, line over line until everything was black. That must have taken some time. It wasn’t in the heat of the moment. It wasn’t just because I wanted something. I wasn’t trying to manipulate, I wasn’t…... I didn’t plan that. How the hell could I have planned THAT? I mean…..THAT. Fuck it. So like….the wings were gone. I meant it, but it meant nothing. Too much had been erased. It had no where to go. Okay. I get it. Grounded. Oh. Ok. No wait, I thought I got it before. What I mean is……… Lilliana closed the journal, placing it a few feet from her on the ground. Unlike the previous time she dared to write into her journal, the pages were closed gently, the book replaced softly. In fact, after the book was placed on the ground, Lilliana laid down, and rested her head atop the leather cover and used it like a pillow. At this point she revealed no more and left whatever else was in her head unsaid to be mulled over and ruminated on later. It would likely be something to trouble her in her dreams and distract her in her daily tasks. The week had not been pleasant, nor would her night be even after getting some of her sorrowful thoughts down on paper. She fell asleep. At one point during her fretful slumber the hand that was smudged with the ink from her page brushed across her face. Her skin took on the charcoal traces, although the ink had dried hard on her hand. Lilliana would find her face a mess in the morning, an act from her frantic erasing of the butterflies she had once drawn.
  9. Storm Watch - Potential Victims

    You messing with Lilliana....... Be warned <3
  10. Welcome

    Hehe I know. I was there as your little bo, Harkinic. <3
  11. Lilliana's Journal

    Lilliana sat with her journal in her lap. She was enclosed by pale, yellowing canvas. Perhaps she was in a tent. Outside the light was dim, and her journal was illuminated by the glowing of her priestly staff. The journal was opened to the last page she had written on from her few and rare entries. All the butterflies Lilliana drew on this page and the previous pages were scratched out, either by a repeated line drawn over in a frenzy, or by the pen actually poking holes directly through the paper. Trust is a fragile thing. Like a butterfly. No, trust is like a freaking eraser. She took a moment to attack the other butterfly drawings and made an attempt to erase the entire thing. This left dark smudges upon the pages or ripped the paper. One thing that is clear, is that once something of beauty was on the page, but is now just a disjointed mess of ugly. It gets smaller with every mistake. Yes, eraser works. But so does butterfly. You erase bits of it’s pretty wings each time you make a mistake, but it doesn’t go away clean, instead there is a mess of fragmented wings….or like…..as on my stupid journal page, flecks of charcoal and pencil and ink and ripped pages and…and…..and…..and…….. What a mess. Now it can’t fly. It’s just a body with no wings. That would suck to be a butterfly with no wings. May as well have no heart. Look in the mirror!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Eraser, eraser, eraser! Eraser. Lilliana rested her hand down upon the page. When she lifted it again, her skin was left with the dark coloring she used upon her journal to write. Later she would brush her face with that hand, and stain the skin of her face. I said the last time I wrote in here, that deception and manipulation doesn’t work in survival of all things. That’s for war. That’s for politics. Blah blah blah. I understood that there’s no place for that shit in a home….where like, without trust shit just breaks down because um, there is no foundation. Right…..? I don’t know. I really don’t know. I like, look at myself and don’t know. No, I know what I’m doing. No, that’s a lie. Liar! Following her last comment, the rest of the page is full of pure ink. It appeared that Lilliana simply sat there and repeatedly drew her pen, line over line until everything was black. That must have taken some time. It wasn’t in the heat of the moment. It wasn’t just because I wanted something. I wasn’t trying to manipulate, I wasn’t…... I didn’t plan that. How the hell could I have planned THAT? I mean…..THAT. Fuck it. So like….the wings were gone. I meant it, but it meant nothing. Too much had been erased. It had no where to go. Okay. I get it. Grounded. Oh. Ok. No wait, I thought I got it before. What I mean is……… Lilliana closed the journal, placing it a few feet from her on the ground. Unlike the previous time she dared to write into her journal, the pages were closed gently, the book replaced softly. In fact, after the book was placed on the ground, Lilliana laid down, and rested her head atop the leather cover and used it like a pillow. At this point she revealed no more and left whatever else was in her head unsaid to be mulled over and ruminated on later. It would likely be something to trouble her in her dreams and distract her in her daily tasks. The week had not been pleasant, nor would her night be even after getting some of her sorrowful thoughts down on paper. She fell asleep. At one point during her fretful slumber the hand that was smudged with the ink from her page brushed across her face. Her skin took on the charcoal traces, although the ink had dried hard on her hand. Lilliana would find her face a mess in the morning, an act from her frantic erasing of the butterflies she had once drawn.
  12. Kargron's Defeat

    ((omg.....EVIL......EVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIL. But I like him.))
  13. Derecho: Lights Out

    ((very well done - you made that night come alive from an amazing view))
  14. Derecho: Lights Out

    ((Holy cow you really made the cantina come to life!!!! Very well written! I can't wait to see how you write the end !!!))