angelofthenight (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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come_sailaway2023-10-02 02:43 pm
angelofthenight) wrote in come_sailaway2023-10-02 02:43 pm
Enter Demona
Who: Demona & Open
What: Re-using some prompts from the TDM for her intro + roommate shenanigans
When: First few days of October
Where: Various places in starters
Warning: Violence, anger, lots of negative CR, Demona comes with a blanket warning of "genocidally racist against humans"
Note: Please set all threads after sunset unless you want to see her as a statue.
Daylight - Muster Drill
So, is Friday trying out a new technique with visual aids or...what? Among the other people here for their first muster drill, there is a stone statue of a loincloth-wearing woman with bat-like wings, long tail, talons, a wild mane of hair, and...one of the leis around her neck. She is completely immobile. No amount of poking, prodding, or talking will rouse her. For all anyone can tell, this is a completely inanimate, if very imposing, stone figure.
Sunset - Muster Station
That statue hasn't moved all day. Everyone else left the muster drill hours ago, but here she still stands with the lei around her neck. As the sun sets beyond that fake horizon, however, magic begins to stir. Cracks form in the stone, and from beneath, red light shines through the fissures around her eyes. Then, all at once, she lets out a screech and stretches out her limbs, the stone falling away in heavy flakes, revealing a flesh and blood creature below with blue skin and flaming red hair.
Dealer's Choice of Location - After midnight
Where is she? How did she get on a ship at sea? Who's done this?! She wants answers, but she has to be careful. She can't be seen like this. Can't allow the humans to get the better of her. So, here she is late in the night, skulking through corridors, sometimes climbing on the ceiling, talons crunching into the metal, to avoid being caught out in the center of the halls. Approach at your own risk. She isn't in a very charitable mood and those claws look awfully sharp.
Roommates? [Closed to Fever]
She's already staked her claim to a part of the Tommy Bahama, under the watchful eye of that werecougar, Siffleur. That's where she intends to be by sunrise. However, she was told her assigned cabin number, 118. Even if she's not going to live in there, she wants to see it for herself. If it's supposed to be hers. What she didn't think to ask, is if it's a private cabin or not. She really shouldn't have assumed anything. And yet, here she is walking into the cabin close to 3:00 a.m. to find that it is already occupied by someone else.
Her wings unfold from her shoulders, flared out behind her as she hisses, "What are you doing in here?"
What: Re-using some prompts from the TDM for her intro + roommate shenanigans
When: First few days of October
Where: Various places in starters
Warning: Violence, anger, lots of negative CR, Demona comes with a blanket warning of "genocidally racist against humans"
Note: Please set all threads after sunset unless you want to see her as a statue.
Daylight - Muster Drill
So, is Friday trying out a new technique with visual aids or...what? Among the other people here for their first muster drill, there is a stone statue of a loincloth-wearing woman with bat-like wings, long tail, talons, a wild mane of hair, and...one of the leis around her neck. She is completely immobile. No amount of poking, prodding, or talking will rouse her. For all anyone can tell, this is a completely inanimate, if very imposing, stone figure.
Sunset - Muster Station
That statue hasn't moved all day. Everyone else left the muster drill hours ago, but here she still stands with the lei around her neck. As the sun sets beyond that fake horizon, however, magic begins to stir. Cracks form in the stone, and from beneath, red light shines through the fissures around her eyes. Then, all at once, she lets out a screech and stretches out her limbs, the stone falling away in heavy flakes, revealing a flesh and blood creature below with blue skin and flaming red hair.
Dealer's Choice of Location - After midnight
Where is she? How did she get on a ship at sea? Who's done this?! She wants answers, but she has to be careful. She can't be seen like this. Can't allow the humans to get the better of her. So, here she is late in the night, skulking through corridors, sometimes climbing on the ceiling, talons crunching into the metal, to avoid being caught out in the center of the halls. Approach at your own risk. She isn't in a very charitable mood and those claws look awfully sharp.
Roommates? [Closed to Fever]
She's already staked her claim to a part of the Tommy Bahama, under the watchful eye of that werecougar, Siffleur. That's where she intends to be by sunrise. However, she was told her assigned cabin number, 118. Even if she's not going to live in there, she wants to see it for herself. If it's supposed to be hers. What she didn't think to ask, is if it's a private cabin or not. She really shouldn't have assumed anything. And yet, here she is walking into the cabin close to 3:00 a.m. to find that it is already occupied by someone else.
Her wings unfold from her shoulders, flared out behind her as she hisses, "What are you doing in here?"
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(And also thoroughly ignore her question about having parents.)
"Aw, Demona, everybody needs a friend!" she chirps, saccharine-sweet. "Trust me, you're gonna love it here. Even the humans are pretty weird!"
She makes like she's about to give Demona a friendly slug on the arm.
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"I despise humans. Why would it make me happy to be trapped among them? If you like those humans so much, why not ask one of them for your friendship and leave me in peace?" That last coincides with her bringing up the tip of her tail to slap Nimona's hand away before she can complete that slug to the arm.
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It didn't actually hurt, but Nimona shakes out her hand anyway, affecting a deeply wounded expression. "Fine, no touchy, jeez, I get it."
She polishes off the last of her milkshake and chucks the glass over her shoulder; it sails way farther than such a small gesture ought to allow, and concludes with the cheerful tinkle of breaking glass on the other side of the deck.
"What's got you in a twist about humans, anyway?"
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"Would you have any fond feelings for the beings who killed your entire family nearly to the last man, woman, and child?"
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Still, her voice remains perfectly bland. "I mean, yeah, ninety-nine percent of humans do suck like that. It's kinda their thing."
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Her voice rises, indignant.
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"Nobody's got me on a leash," she says. "Especially not here."
So why is she acting like humans are fine as long as you know the right ones? Why does she still walk around in human shape most of the time, like she's trying to blend in?
...Why's she letting somebody she met like two minutes ago get to her like this? Jeez.
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"If that's true, then prove it. Show me who you are, Nimona. You are so much greater than a human. I want to see your real potential."
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What would happen if she did that here? If she cracked herself open and let the tidal wave of darkness spill out of her, the one that swallowed her whole her last night in the Kingdom? Could she even do it again, when she's felt more alive and free and loved in the past couple months than she's been in a thousand years?
(And oh, if unleashing her full potential comes with such misery, too -- she never wants to go back there. Ever.)
She breathes. A smirk curls her mouth. "But I'll give you a taste," she says as she begins to grow.
The deck creaks under her bulk. Pink light swirls, expanding, towering into a blaze; two enormous clawed feet slam down right in front of Demona as a scaled tail whips into view. When the light dims, it reveals a pink dragon ten times Demona's size, with jaws that could snap her up and swallow her like a piece of cereal.
Eyes still aglow, Nimona leans down to put her face inches from Demona's, and smiles wide enough to show every single one of her teeth.
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Demona is smiling back as Nimona looms over her. There's a manic glee in her eyes. "You are magnificent."
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She leans another inch closer, another inch, opening her mouth, those sharp, sharp teeth glittering like endless rows of knives --
-- and then a gigantic slobbery tongue shoots out to lick Demona from her ankles to the top of her tiara.
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"Agh!" She's standing frozen in place with her arms out at her side in utter disbelief.
"Did you just... lick me?"
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She leaps into the air, opening wings the size of a tallship's sail, and with another boom of displaced air, collapses down into a streak of light that zips away from Demona.
Distantly, Demona might be able to hear Nimona holler over her metaphorical shoulder, "Welcome aboaaaaaard!"
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