Log:The Azure Dragon of the Infinite Lilies

The Azure Dragon of the Infinite Lilies
I'm sure you'll be terrifying.
Participants Velvet, Weaver Utridge, Saulot	31 July, 2018 Sergio's wife arrives, and is none to pleased to meet Weaver.
Location Lakeside Lodge
Things have been relatively peaceful. As peaceful as a house full of three Changelings can be. The hedge beasts were snoozing on the couch after evicting Weaver, and the dragon has been left to sit on the floor as he looks over a rather odd jewel. It's shaped like a fist, and in the palm of that hand is another stone. Currently, Weaver's trying to get the two jewels separated, but it's working rather poorly right now. As quiet as she is, Velvet can be hard to notice, even when she's standing in the doorway admiring the view. It's a beautiful view in her eyes. Velvet looks like she's fresh from the hedge, arms folded over her corsetted chest, body leaned against the doorframe as she gazes at Weaver, watching him with a smile. "You know, you're already such a big sucker for the animals, you're fucked if we have a little girl," she chuckles. "You'll be wrapped around her little pinky in no time." Weaver scoffs. "What? Pfft. No! Never." He's full of shit, but he tries to hide it to no avail. "I'd be all strict and make them do the dishes." He nods adamantly to that, so sure of himself. Then Fido moves a bit in his sleep to lay his head down on Weaver's shoulder and start drooling. Velvet smiles, her expression warm as she watches Fido shift and settle his head on Weaver even as the man protests being a sucker. "Uh huh," she laughs, stepping into the room finally and moving to sit across from him on the floor, still close enough that their knees touch. "I'm sure you'll be terrifying," she snorts, clearly teasing. "You look like you could use some help with that. Maybe some dexterous fingers?" "Of course I'll be terrifying," Weaver says, puffing up his chest. "But, yeah. I do need some help." There's a rumbling, but not the ground quaking. No, something else sounds like it's going down. It's faint at first, but it is growing more and more by the minute. It sounds like a stampede's on the way, and just about ready to hit the house. Velvet reaches out to brush a hand over his cheek. "So terrifying," she agrees fondly. He's the only one to ever hear that tone. So fully of light, and life, and love. But only with him, and even then, only sometimes. There's a pause, one long ear giving a twitch. "Something's coming," Velvet murmurs as she suddenly launches to her feet and flips back a few steps, finding a shadow to blend herself into. Guns are slips from their holsters, eyes narrowing as she waits. That stampeding doesn't stop for a moment, and only gains in moment. As it nears flowers begin to spring up and around the floor. White cups, green stems, and pale white petals. It's not at even Weaver notices what's going on, and he stands up. "Aw fuck," he grumbles. "Velvet, we gotta leave here. Now." He's already waking the hedge beasts up, and keeping his eyes on the back of the house. Eyes dart, noticing all the things that spring up, and Weaver's reaction to it. "She's not subtle, is she?" Velvet states from the shadows as she starts moving, grabbing a couple more weapons and sliding them into holsters. "If she hurts you, or damages my home, I'm going to fucking kill her," Velvet states, making this well known in advance. Velvet may yet have her wish as the wall opens up like paper. Barreling through it is a woman tall enough that she takes out a bit of the second floor with her explosive entrance. A warm breeze follows in her week, and the flowers come with each of her heavy steps. This giant of a woman is covered in blue scales, and around her neck is a collar of polychromatic feathers and the same makes up her rather long hair. On her back she sports two pairs of wings that are tucked in as she steps inside. "Nwa Ujo!" she roars. The entrance to their home caught him enough by surprise, but when Weaver hears that he goes stock still. "Welp, I'm gonna kill her." Velvet mutters this to herself as she lets Weaver serve as a distraction for right now. She's going to take her time to line up a shot. She stays fimrly in the shadows, watching and waiting. Weaver lifts up his hands in protest, but never gets a word out. She's on him in a second. The couch is knocked away with a simple swat of ehr hand, and the other is around his throat. Weaver was already tall, but she makes him look like a child. She lifts him by the throat at as he starts clutching at her hand. She's growling as she brings him near her face, and tears start streaming down her face. "You killed my husband. You killed Dietrich. For that you won't die. I will make sure you live through every second of suffering. We loved you like our little brother. He loved you like family, but you always were a bad one. Never knew your place." "Actually." The voice rings from the shadows for a second before bullets fly. The first one is spot on, Weaver having given her enough time to really line up a shot. The other two just seeming to bounce off. "Your husband was murdered by Dietrich. Weaver almost died to get vengeance for him. You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to let you hurt my husband because you don't know what you're fucking talking about." Velvet goes quiet then, starting to shift and move. She knows how to stick to the shadows. She also knows she's going to need to be able to line up more shots if she's going to be able to hurt this woman again. That takes time. As soon as the first shot's fired her scales harden enough that the first bullet simply bruises the fuck out of her. It does, at least, cause her to wince in pain. "Lies," she screams loud enough that her already booming voice cracks. Her grips tightens around Weaver's throat as she fights between her own grief and rage. "Idiota estrangeiro," he growls, and then tosses the already hurt Weaver into Velvet althoug only a limb tabs her as he goes sailing into the wall. Velvet ducks out of the way, flinching only for a second as Weaver's arm whacks her leg. "You don't believe they're lies, or he's already be dead," Velvet points out as she continues to move. Her gun is trained on the woman as she lines up her shot while talking. "You're angry and need someone to punish, but you're punishing the wrong person. Weaver was lying bleeding to death in a pool of his own blood at the hands of our own son when your husband lost his life. He died trying to protect Olivia from being Taken. He died a hero and you are sullying his name by hurting someone that he loved because you are in pain." The woman roars in anger. Velvet's talking inspires Francesca's fervor further. She's slow to approach the other woman, a clawed hand going around her throat. There's force applied, the woman's red gaze still full of tears as she stares down at the much smaller Velvet. However, the Darkling's words do find something before any force or pain comes. "But why?" she asks with tears in her eyes. "Why could this other woman have died instead of him?" The question comes, but the look in her eyes already says that she knows the answer. The grip finds Velvet's neck, chin lifting. Luckily, there's plenty of throat grabbing in Weaver and Velvet's play time, so she knows how to position her throat for the least amount of damage. Velvet frowns for a moment and loosens her grip on the gun. She lifts her hand to let the pistol loosen in her grip. Then she slides it into the holster. The other follows suit. They didn't do very much good anyway. She reaches up to touch the hand on her throat instead. "Because she was innocent, and he was a hero." Francisca's hold slackens, and then she drops it. "He was my life," she says as she collapses down to one her knees. "My everything." While this is going on, Weaver is sill near the wall. Upside down and probably wondering what day is it. "Dragaferro was the smartest one, but he couldn't be that stupid. He can't be." She shakes her head furiously, and petals begin to cascade to the floor. Velvet turns to look towards Weaver and frowns softly. "I understand," she murmurs at the mention of him being her everything. She takes a step forward to settle a hand on the woman's shoulder. "I don't think he was stupid. I think that he was brave. If it helps at all it didn't look like he suffered when it happened." She's not good with emotions, no matter how much she may understand them to get into certain roles. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't stop it." He may not have suffered, but Francisca hearing that only causes her crying to grow louder. The couple is lucky enough that Olivia is a deep sleeper when she does sleep. The woman takes one of Velvet's hand, sobbing uncontrollably and probably holding her hand too roughly. "He was just supposed to be here for some stupid wedding." Velvet doesn't so much as flinch with the hard squeezing of her hand. Physical pain is something she is far better at than the emotional kind. She's much better suited in dealing with that. "I know." It was her stupid wedding. "I know, and I'm sorry. I don't know what to say to make this any better for you. Or any easier. If you'd like, we can go into the Hedge later and kill our way through Loyalists until the pain has numbed a little?" Weaver finally rights himself, and starts rubbing his temple. Fido didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by the blue dragon's intrusion. Instead he moves over to Weaver, and licks at his face. Francisca rises to her full height again, and starts wiping at her eyes. She catches the pain she's causing Velvet after everything else, and grimmaces. "Sorry. Sorry." She then offers another hand with the ring finger cut off. "Francisca dos Lillies Sem Fim." "I've suffered much worse. It's for a good cause." Still, Velvet flexes her hand when it's released, shaking out the ache. Her other hand reaches out to shake the offered one. "Velvet Utridge. I only really met him twice, but your husband was a good man. I'm sorry for your loss Fancisca." She settles her other hand over top of Fransisca's, her expression mournful. She nods slowly, sniffing for a moment. She turns to Weaver, and says, "I am sorry, pequeno dragao." To which he replies something mumbled and waves it off. Francisca turns her attention back to Velvet, and then nods. "I would like that. It's what my Sergio enjoyed, and what he'd want me to do." "Then that's what we'll do," Velvet says with a nod. "We'll go and we'll hunt down the type of people who cause this sort of pain in others. We won't stop until we're painted red in the blood of our enemies." She gives a firm nod. Murder she can do. Murder she is good at.