At the Slaver's Association
The Caravan Arrives
Paying a Call
There Goes the Neighborhood
At the Realm of Thorns
At the Consortium
Through the Looking Glass
Clipping a Raven's Wings
When Once We Were Mortal
Neighbor of the Beast
The Hunter, Dawn
Realm of Thorns home
The Slaver's Association
n all of Rhy'Din, there never was a slaver with such contempt for human life, who so worshipped at the altar of human commerce, as Blood Red Rose.
Her wants trump all, and the years have wrought few changes - her soul is still as black as night, a cold study in contrasts to her ruthless appetite for the games of pleasure and pain. But Rhy'Din some time ago grew a bit too familiar, and so she left her stables behind. Now, she travels, a jetsetter in eternal shadows, with Raymond at her side to do her bidding.
Immortality has its advantages - as the centuries have passed, her alabaster skin may have grown just that much colder to the touch, and maybe the haughty tilt of her chin is a little bit higher, but her emerald eyes shine as much with greedy delight, just as often hidden behind cat's-eye shades. Her hair is still a cascade of waves like sunset threaded with blood rubies, flowing wild over her shoulders. And her lips, like sweet dark cherries, still reveal the buds of tiny fangs when she smiles.
Hourglass curves have always afforded her a fondness for latex catsuits. Most often, she wears black, all the better to embrace the shadows. Sometimes, too, she wears a long black velvet opera coat closed with a single narrow buckle at her waist; the coat reaches nearly to the ground, its hem sweeping backward in a graceful arc when she walks, its wide lapels hugging the curve of her bosom.
Music to play Blood Red Rose by
I have not forgotten and am forever watching you blossom.
¯·°¨´*·'~·the Dark Savior·~'·*`¨°·¯
"Kneel before me and be saved."