| Vendetta looked at the hippocampus woman and didn't miss the glint to her eyes or the curl to her lips. It reminded her of Roshan and the many ways he pushed and pushed the boundaries she constantly laid down for him. Familiar circumstances, new face. “Well I cannot very well stop from doing it as you please,” her voice was a strangely lyrical drawl, laced through with her Solterran accent. At least this woman was far more flattering than her thief's flirtatious and agitating banter. Sometimes just thinking about him made her head ache, and the more she did think about it the more she was concerned he had done something completely idiotic while she had been gone. “Yes, a masquerade fashioned by a dreamweaver,” Vendetta said, and she was still not impressed. Now, the strength and realism of the magic itself was quite interesting, but the practice of it, to paint fairytales. Well, fairytale were not real and trying to turn the world into one would not make it easier to deal with. “I am certain, too,” she replied offhandedly. Most beautiful, best dressed, brightest, most dangerous. She could think of a hundred titles that would suit her in a crowd. |
@Jaylin she certainly doesn't lack and self-importance
