come_sailaway | 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?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Demona eyes that scroll with suspicion, but stays silent, only nodding to show she understands what's being said. A magic shield that comes with its own status reader, not bad. Hair pulling isn't an honorable way to fight, anyway.

Her eyes do go wide when Erin's hand shifts into talons with such seeming ease. "You can shapeshift too, and still you say you are human?" What, did you think she wouldn't still be a racist shit about that?

"Will it harm me? Yes. I am a flesh and blood creature. But I can handle a scratch, so long as it isn't too deep. I need only survive to the first morning light and it will heal."

"I prefer post-mortal if you want a precise label," Erin murmurs. "But yeah, I'm human. Someone tried very hard to take my humanity from me and I'm not letting him have it. He turned me into this, but he can't have it."

It is so, so tempting to say that becoming less human was a favor done. But she isn't that much of a fool. She can tell how that would end. She could say it, and perhaps this woman would leave her alone for good. In that case, she really should say it.

She can't bring herself to.

"Is the one who did that still alive?"

"He was when I got here," Erin says with a soft sound of frustration. "But hopefully not for long." She shakes her hand back out into a human one, and works on unbuckling her sword belt, to set it aside. "I'd give an awful lot for news of his death. I could prattle on about how many innocent people it'd protect and all the good it would do, but...no. I want to know I'm safe, and that I've been avenged."

"Why shouldn't you want it only for yourself? My revenge is all that keeps me going. I will have it."

A shrug. "I wasn't his only victim. But here, and now, everyone else is very far away."

Erin beckons. "Come at me."

"The only ones I have left are allies I have created myself and would-be brothers who chose to side with their human destroyers instead of their own clan."

Fueled by the rage that very thought induces, she lunges forward with her claws extended, aiming for Erin's face, seeking to claw that blindfold away.

Not today. Erin had been hoping for a less obvious attack, but while she's disappointed, she's not surprised. The Lost ducks, lunges -

- changes shape mid-leap -

- and hits Demona as a massive snake-woman, looking to coil, pin, constrict. She might be more comfortable as a swordsman, but she'll settle for punching this gargoyle in the head while she coils upon her.

"What?!" She cries in shock when Erin shifts forms. How many tricksters are there on this blasted ship?

She finds herself now fighting to gain any leverage as Erin constricts around her. With arms pinned, it's down to her tail to try and pry Erin off. It isn't really working.

"I thought we were supposed to be fighting hand to hand."

"When did we agree on that?" Erin stops punching; the first part of her point is proven.

She's not letting go though.

"God knows why but I do like you, Demona. But I don't fight fair and I don't play with my food."

"My mistake for assuming." Assuming this was going to be a fight with honor, that is.

"I am not your food. And I do not know why someone like you would ever like someone like me."

"I know what it's like to need to be the baddest bitch in the room." Erin leans her face in, quite close. "And I've got more than a little bit of a thing for women who'll just fuckin' kill me. It confuses more than one of my lovers. But right now what I want you to understand is that when I talk to people who annoy me, insult me, who hurt the people that are precious to me? That's not me doing the best from a position of weakness. That's me consciously choosing not to put the pedal to the fucking metal."

Demona a properly chastized into silence now. She glares at Erin, hating how small she feels at this moment. Why did she agree to this? What is the point of any of this?

"Why?" she says, in utter confusion. "Why bother?" Why have any leniency? Why not just grind them all under her boot? It's what Demona would do.

"Someone believed in me when I didn't, and I'll be paying that debt back for the rest of my life, and for some time after."

"You won't win..." Demona says, quieter. "You won't change me to fit your vision."

Erin snorts, soft and bitter. "I don't even have a vision for myself, Demona. I don't want to change you. I want you to have the chance to find happiness here. Same chance that I got. No sword point conversions, no threats. I don't want to be your enemy. I just needed you to understand that I'm not saying that from a position of weakness. I don't bluff."

Erin shifts back, leaving her still very, very close.

"Happiness? Here?" she scoffs.

Demona doesn't pull away but she can't look Erin in that face.

"I understand." She answers through gritted teeth. "I acknowledge your superior strength. Are you happy now?"

"It'll do." Erin sighs, and looks away herself. "...I'm still yours for the night. If I haven't made myself shit for company."

She finally steps away. "I think I need to be alone."

Enter Demona

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By tradition I declare: damn OCs and their one-liners

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