IC INBOX

[angelofthenight]

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[gamjam]

Hi Demona! I do wish to leave a message please!

My name is Gortys. I'm a robot and also I think we're teamed up together for this month and I wanted to let you know that. And also if you needed anything like, I dunno, access, or toys, or wires, or something.....



.....

Okay! No rush getting back to me. Bye!

[Video] [Night]

[angelofthenight]

[The reply comes hours later, in the middle of the night.]

I'll tell you what I told the last one: stay out of my way.

Do that and the month will be over before you know it.

Re: [Video] [Night]

[gamjam]

Oh. Okay.

....


I don't really think I can get in your way. You look pretty tall, and you have wings.

[early april / voice]

[sidearmed]

Hey, Demona. This is Bucky Barnes - I've been assigned as your warden for the month. Please let me know if there's anything you need. Or might want to talk about. [ he pauses for a moment, then takes a breath. ] And I'd like to meet up with you in person once or twice. A check-in, just to make sure you're doing alright.

Re: [early april / voice]

[angelofthenight]

Another new warden.

[Will this one do any better than the last? She doubts it.]

If you insist. I hope you're a night person.

Re: [early april / voice]

[sidearmed]

Yep. We're kind of like a carnival prize booth.

[ maybe, maybe not. he plans to try. ]

I can be. Why?

[ voice - beginning of may ]

[corkscrewed]

Do you drink tea?

[ something to get out of the way from the get-go. ]

Re: [ voice - beginning of may ]

[angelofthenight]

Occasionally?

[Said in a tone of voice that clearly begs the question: why does it matter?]

You're the new temp warden I presume.

voice;

[14thcommander]

Is a congratulations on your new partner appropriate?

Re: voice;

[angelofthenight]

I suppose it is.

[She's still very torn on how she feels about the situation. Lark is...better than she anticipated.]

Have you sent your condolences to Lark as well?

Page from Lark's File

[ukan]

[So I'm bullet-pointing for now because time crunch, but anything at all you need more detail about let me know!]

- Wolves were first created tens of thousands of years ago in North America. They were chosen from among their tribes and then changed into wolves whose only job was to protect the tribe from rivals. They were very good at it. Too good at it, because after a few generations the humans in their own tribes feared them and began hunting them.

- They've survived by blending in with human society. Most of them can only do this by getting into the drug trafficking scene. Sometimes they don't blend well and they are either shot by rival drug dealers, or they slip up and have to murder a lot of people to keep their secret. (Lark has done this a few times to cover for his own packmates, and as a pup he frequently got in trouble and had to be bailed out by the pack).

- All wolves have a specific trigger that makes them turn from human to wolf involuntarily, but Lark's isn't mentioned on the page. It talks about one of his pack brothers who found out too late that the smell of fried chicken makes him turn. To cover for him, a whole restaurant full of people died.

- Packs can be large or small but always have just one girl at the center. She is able to influence their minds to an unknown degree, but it is heavily implied that they give up some of their free will to serve her. The pack will kill or die for her without any hesitation; their love for her is basically like being under a spell. If she dies, the pack falls apart.

- Headcanon from the random hints in the book: Lark killed his first girl so he could get away and start his own pack.

- Not everyone survives the change. It's an extremely traumatic experience for the body every time they go from one form to the other, so only specific types of people can do it: very damaged people.

[ukan]

Lark can hear an awful lot on the Barge. Not things that go on in cabins (thank God), not things in warden-locked areas, but enough that when he wanders out of his own cabin he can hear the tell-tale quiet of having just missed something, somewhere.

He usually doesn't care enough these days to seek out trouble, but he has an inmate and-

And he knows what she smells like and what pain smells like and it amounts to trouble. So he tracks her as fast as he can. "Demona!"

[angelofthenight]

[OOC: Continued from THIS]

She hasn't managed to get far before she hears her name being called. Lark! Of all the people who might come across her like this, he is who she most wished to avoid. She looks around in vain for someplace to conceal herself. It's too late for that.

So, she does the only thing she can think of. She wraps her wings around her tender shoulder and tucks her arm far back into the shadows. The burns won't be readily visible now. But the smell...she can do nothing about that.

"Lark," her voice is strained despite her best efforts. "I'm just going back to my cabin. Perhaps we can speak another time."

[gamjam]

Demona?

Connor just tried to kill me too.

[angelofthenight]

He WHAT?

[Even in her painful condition, she still sits halfway up in bed at hearing that.]

When?

[epicure]

( Sometime during the night, while Demona is off gliding or generally terrifying those in the city, a small wooden box would be left on her windowsill for her to find upon her return. Inside - assuming she wasn't suspicious as hell and actually opened it - would be a hair comb and note: )

I happened upon this while perusing the market stalls, and could not help but think how lovely it would look nestled in your fiery locks.

I shall hope to see you wearing it soon. If not - well, I suppose I will have to find something more to your tastes then, won't I?

Regards,

- Z

comment not here + Text

[angelofthenight]

She landed on the ledge shortly before sunrise and glowered at the box obviously placed where she'd see it. Who would leave something for her? And how had they gotten it here?

Her nose wrinkled as she opened it, knowing even before she saw the note that it was Zevran by the scent that wafted off it. Her glower only deepened when she read the note. A gift for her? Why? Was he truly so desperate to gain her favor?

She sighed and closed the lid to the box, carrying it down with her as she stepped inside and setting it at her bedside. The dawn was seconds away, and so was her painful transformation to a human body. The very thing she was trying to gather enough favor to reverse. Was it foolish of her to keep spurning Zevran's advances when she needed the favor? He would be an easy source of it... If she could swallow her pride long enough.

"Tch, who does he think he is, trying to bribe me?"

Regardless, her reply would have to wait until nightfall. As far as anyone knows, she is a statue by daylight. So, that would give her time enough to craft an adequate reply.

----

The next evening, she sent him this note over the tomes:

Zevran,

The comb you left is lovely, but I do not know if I can accept. I am not often the recipient of gifts, and I am not certain I understand your motive for giving me such a thing.

-Demona

There. That was... cordial.

[untailed]

You should come to my wedding.

And the hunt.

[No, there's no explanation.]

[angelofthenight]

W-what?

[She hasn't been invited to a wedding in centuries. She's astounded. And flattered.]

I...

If you're sure?

action;

[untailed]

Not long after Mort's post (though after nightfall) Silent-Death finds Demona.

"You want to have sex?"

No further context or explanation. At least Silent-Death appears to be dressed in her usual princess ballgown style?

Re: action;

[angelofthenight]

At least Mort had told Demona to expect this. So, she's had time to consider. Silent is one of the more desirable candidates. she supposes it's still alright, despite having recently been to the wolf's wedding.

"Mort was being more forward on the tomes than I would've liked but... yes, I suppose I do."

sometime post excursion.

[abhorrently]

i forgot to say that you were quite impressive on that trip
but that's putting it too mildly
a force of beautiful destruction might better suit

[angelofthenight]

[Demona is glad that this time, at least, she's alone while reading this so no one can witness the wild purple flush that rises in her cheeks. It takes her a long time to formulate a response. Well, to find the courage to formulate one might be more accurate.]

You were captivating in your own right.
You look best decorated in the blood of your enemies.
Perhaps I should meet you in our cabin to discuss this further?

action, sometime during the village event

[hadnoright]

It's been a painfully slow couple weeks, during which Daisy has increasingly begun to resemble a wild animal pacing circles in a shrinking cage. The ship has never been this empty for so long and when your sense of hearing carries as far as hers does, the emptiness is more obvious than ever.

Demona's been dragged into her efforts to not go completely insane more than once. But only in the evenings, when Daisy's night-owl tendencies and Demona's nocturnal schedule line up.

Today, Daisy gets up late. Catching up on some of her perpetual sleep debt, maybe. She drags herself out of her cabin to deal with the annoying realities of still being nominally alive, and...

There's someone coming out of the cabin Demona theoretically shares with that Slaughter-mad woman. A solid second passes where Daisy comes close to asking who the fuck she is, before her other senses catch up with her eyes and instead what comes out of her mouth is simply: "Demona?"

[angelofthenight]

"Daisy!" Demona gasps, dropping the laundry basket in her arms in her surprise. Her finger raises to her lips. "Shh. Not out here. Inside!" She jerks her head at the door she just exited, motioning for Daisy to get in there with her.