La Tercera The Third.
La Tercera Espada.
The Third Sword.
Neliel sat up. The words running through her head woke her up.
In front of her was a man. Instinctively she knew to be afraid of this man, and yet she would not comply. Instead, she smiled lazily, brushing her hair away from her eyes. As she moved her hands, they came into contact with a sword. All else in the room faded from her senses, and the cool touch of the fabric and wood felt all so familiar. The sheath was a cool lacquered black, the blade itself, as she pulled it gracefully from the sheath, was a cool slice of the moon, long, thin, and as beautifully steely as it's wielder.
The white and black dress was formfitting, but the entire back, down to her waist, was cut so that the black three was exposed. Neliel turned her blade, reflecting the light onto the faces of the three men in front of her. One man had eyes as deep as the depths of space, the color of a sepia photograph. His hair was as dark as his cold eyes, and his face looked fixed in the cruel smile it wore. The second man had ice-white hair and closed slit-like eyes that were very threatening, despite the odd smile he directed at her. The third was an african man with dreadlocks. He wore a pair of clear neon-green goggles over his pale, white-grey, blind eyes, and a permanently disgruntled frown over his mouth.
"Well. What do we have here?" The Sepia-eyed man leaned forward, an odd half smile-half-frown on his mildly handsome face, as though put-out that this girl wasn't at all seemingly serious. His eyes met hers, scattering all of her thoughts and reforming them into one single idea: This man is unreadable. Unfathomable.
"Do you have a name, My friend?" The man in the middle asked, not exactly respectfully, more, politely... Is the word.
"Neliel, Neliel Tu Oderschvanck, Tercera Espada." Neliel said whilst standing tall. her small show of confidence made at least one thing clear though:
Neliel Tu Oderschvanck, Tercera Espada, knew something was wrong.
Neliel Tu Oderschvanck, Tercera Espada, was about to find out what.
And chances were that she wouldn't be happy when she did.
La Tercera Espada.
The Third Sword.
Neliel sat up. The words running through her head woke her up.
In front of her was a man. Instinctively she knew to be afraid of this man, and yet she would not comply. Instead, she smiled lazily, brushing her hair away from her eyes. As she moved her hands, they came into contact with a sword. All else in the room faded from her senses, and the cool touch of the fabric and wood felt all so familiar. The sheath was a cool lacquered black, the blade itself, as she pulled it gracefully from the sheath, was a cool slice of the moon, long, thin, and as beautifully steely as it's wielder.
The white and black dress was formfitting, but the entire back, down to her waist, was cut so that the black three was exposed. Neliel turned her blade, reflecting the light onto the faces of the three men in front of her. One man had eyes as deep as the depths of space, the color of a sepia photograph. His hair was as dark as his cold eyes, and his face looked fixed in the cruel smile it wore. The second man had ice-white hair and closed slit-like eyes that were very threatening, despite the odd smile he directed at her. The third was an african man with dreadlocks. He wore a pair of clear neon-green goggles over his pale, white-grey, blind eyes, and a permanently disgruntled frown over his mouth.
"Well. What do we have here?" The Sepia-eyed man leaned forward, an odd half smile-half-frown on his mildly handsome face, as though put-out that this girl wasn't at all seemingly serious. His eyes met hers, scattering all of her thoughts and reforming them into one single idea: This man is unreadable. Unfathomable.
"Do you have a name, My friend?" The man in the middle asked, not exactly respectfully, more, politely... Is the word.
"Neliel, Neliel Tu Oderschvanck, Tercera Espada." Neliel said whilst standing tall. her small show of confidence made at least one thing clear though:
Neliel Tu Oderschvanck, Tercera Espada, knew something was wrong.
Neliel Tu Oderschvanck, Tercera Espada, was about to find out what.
And chances were that she wouldn't be happy when she did.