OOC — ;;

I’ve done it! Sibyl’s “About" page is updated completely. I’ll add more as time goes on, but you’ve got the basics and some stats there.

+1

baitandswitchfenris started following you

     Darkness is the bane of her existence but also the spice of life. In the darkness, she could move more easily… but she couldn’t see much of what was happening in front of her or — in this case — behind her. As soon as she heard something clatter to the ground, her hand was on her pistol and her body had turned a full one hundred and eighty degrees before the sights of that gun came down on a person who startled her.

                                  ❝Give me one good reason not to blow your head off right now.

M i l l f i e l d s ;      [ Sibyl & Reaver ]

industrial-lord:

        ❝There’s no need to do so when visitors such as yourself like to parade about Millfields in rags like that… really, your kind— bandits, rebels, adventurers… you all never learn, do you?❞

        He tilted his head just a bit, and the popping of his neck was audible in their quiet surroundings. A small sigh escaped the man, and his gaze turned lazily towards the woman before him. She was one that had grown up in the mess that Albion was today, she wasn’t a silly little merchant’s daughter that had seen good in a man like him.

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        She probably had blood on her hands, too. 

        ❝Troublemakers don’t last very long here. It’s a wonder they still try to steal from their betters.❞ The condescension was clear in his tone. ❝I get enough target practice from you lot.❞ 

       Her annoyance turned to anger, sloshing together in the pit of her stomach to make a volatile cocktail that tumbled with each word that poured from Reaver’s mouth. It only took a few moments and jabs before the adventuress could take no more.

                                  ❝My kind? Right. Because you wouldn’t ever be caught associating with thieves or — or pirates! Avo forbid you get your pretty hands dirty.

      She wanted to believe she was better or on par with the former pirate king who stood before her, but she wasn’t… and she likely never would be. He had money and fame and people feared him; Sibyl had her wit, her fire and only a few hundred gold in her pocket. That could get her absolutely nothing.

                                  ❝Enough target practice from my kind? If I’m remembering something correctly, you did shoot at me… but you didn’t quite hit me. 

                                  ❝Erm, well… you did. Actually, I’ve got a scar from it — y’fuckin’ tosser. But that doesn’t matter! It just matters that you’re sittin’ here talking some big talk about target practice, and you didn’t take a chance that was right in front of your face. Got anything to say about that?

(Source: whispered-revelations)

M i l l f i e l d s ;      [ Sibyl & Reaver ]

industrial-lord:

     ❝Would you be disappointed if I claimed ignorance?❞

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        His hold on the edge of the cane tightened ever so slightly at the sound of her voice. Few were able to move him so, and he easily hid the stress with a slight twitch of digits being the only tell. His voice was even—— four hundred years of lying had helped with that

        ❝It’s not often that we see one as poorly dressed as you in our fair little community. What trouble might you be brewing, little dove?❞

        He smiled at her still, expression admittedly just a bit tight. 

                                   ❝I wouldn’t believe you,❞  She answered readily. Not in the slightest. 

       And how could she? Standing face to face with the man who she’d heard far too much about left her wary. He was famous for things that she herself would probably do down the line, yet she found herself resenting his presence all the more simply for being himself. When had she become so bitter?

                                  ❝Poorly dressed?❞      

      Suddenly it’s easy to remember why she hates him and that ridiculous smug look on his face.

                                  ❝If I was hopin’ for trouble then I would look for a better place to find it. Though I always did find it funny that bandits attack this place as frequently as they do… of course, that probably doesn’t bother you. I’m sure you’re havin’ more fun shooting the nobility from your balcony. Tch.

(Source: whispered-revelations)

M i l l f i e l d s ;      [ Sibyl & Reaver ]

industrial-lord:

       ❝Well, it’s not supposed to, sweetling. You’re not a member of the nobility, are you?❞ He smiled at her—— she’s not Luci, she’s not, just keep that in mind, you’ve shot at this woman before—— and relaxed there, leaning on the cane once he had decided he was exactly where he needed to be to converse with the woman.

        Dark eyes flitted this way and that across the woman, studying her intently— though unlike their previous encounters, this time, Reaver was perfectly fine staying at a safe distance. She’s not Luci. 

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        ❝What are you doing here, anyhow, if you’ve such a distaste for my home?❞

      She had a scar from their last encounter, but she also had a few pages from a diary and some information that was more valuable to someone who wanted to blackmail the industrial lord rather than to a woman who simply wanted to get rich or die trying. Either way, she knew a thing or two about the towering man in his ridiculous top-hat.

                                  ❝I know you know the answer to that question,❞  She replied with all of the cool animosity that she could muster. So why are you bothering to ask? Don’t you have… official business or something to read? ❞      

      If she had been more brave, Sibyl would have walked away at that moment… but even she knew not to turn her back on the man who had killed many people at their most vulnerable states.

(Source: whispered-revelations)

M i l l f i e l d s ;      [ Sibyl & Reaver ]

industrial-lord:

        He’d been strolling when the woman’s complaint reached his ears— a voice already a little bit more familiar than it should have been. The periodical tapping of the cane upon the ground heralded his approach as he neared the woman in the fields. 

        ❝I think a church or a graveyard would be a little too dreary for the nobility’s tastes here, darling.❞ 

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      He wasn’t the man she wanted to see — actually, she could safely say she didn’t want to see any man at the moment — yet there he was. Like a mosquito, but far more deadly…. Perhaps a wasp was suited to he who tapped his cane against stone and called to a woman who had made it her business to avoid his presence.

       Then again, could she really say she was avoiding something if she stood in the presence of that something’s home?

                                  ❝Oh you think so, do you? That’s very nice — wonderful, really       — and it doesn’t do a bloody thing for me.

(Source: whispered-revelations)

M i l l f i e l d s ;      [ Sibyl & OPEN ]

      She regards the area around her silently, taking in the lush kind of living space that she wouldn’t ever be able to experience fully. Maybe it’s resentment or perhaps she really is unhappy with how quiet things are, but she finally arches her head and gives a groan that can only be described as over-dramatic. When she finally resumes a proper(ish) level of posture, she speaks.

                                  ❝If this place gets any more boring, they’ll have to turn it into a        church. Or a graveyard. I know I, for one, am ready to lynch myself.

midnightcelebs:

Anne Hathaway

midnightcelebs:

Anne Hathaway

industrial-lord:

        ❝THAT KINDA LUST JUST AIN’T FOR US—❞ 

Obscene grabby hands at Sib’s body.

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"Those aren’t even the right goddamn words."

She steps back, crosses her arms and purses her lips. Unimpressed, that’s what she is.

industrial-lord:

        ❝C’mon, Addie, sing with me! 

——DOESN’T RUN IN OUR BLOOD!

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"…"