"No need to apologize my lady, I understand that precision can be lost in the heat of battle. I'm still here and you did make up for it by putting a stop to that creature before it well... gave me a rather inglorius ending." Arathea had replied.

Isilmewen shook her head, "No, no no, if I slack off on apologizing where it's due, I'd never hear the end of it from my family, especially my brother," she gave a soft chuckle, before nodding in agreement at quitting the cave sooner than later, "These creatures' departure is bound to be investigated by scavengers. Most will be content to wait until we leave, but I'd rather not tempt the appearance of those that won't."

So one song concludes, hurt but triumphant. The other's song, however... Isilmewen thought as she looked towards where Rauhdri was, taken aback by their ferocity still on display, but listening to their vocalizations. Pained, and still fighting for life, even with the threat still and gone. The last thing you need right now is to be crowded, to feel cornered and even more threatened. I hope you'll be able to recognize us as allies, if not friends eventually.

~ ~ ~

“I think I am with you, I don’t condone unnecessary waste, but this may be one time it is necessary. I thought at first to offer these things to the wilderness, but I fear it would poison this forest just like it would poison you or me. Take what feathers you can, but I would like to burn these atrocities here and rid both ourselves and these woods of their burden.”

Isilmewen pondered at Rosariel's response a moment, before nodding, "We're of the same mind, then. If you think even the scavengers won't find sustenance from these things, then the best we can do is burn them, that their ashes may yet nourish the soil. I'll just be a moment, then."

Keeping her own distance respectfully as Rosariel and Seleniniel tried to ground Rauhdri's senses, Isilmewen drew her carving blade and began taking feathers from the owlbear by Arathea for use as possible fletching, while also retrieving the arrows or at least arrowheads for future reuse.

~ ~ ~

“but I can do something in the vein of poking about this fetid stinkhole and, perhaps, uncovering a bit of plunder to make our efforts worthwhile…”

Isilmewen tilted her head towards the Cidal, "We made far safer this breadth of the forest for its inhabitants, predator, prey or otherwise alike, to say nothing of those at or abound Hyanda Nost. I'd call that worthwhile..." she paused a moment, just long enough that she might seem completely serious, before she smiled, "I wouldn't say no if we do end up finding something else amidst this putrid mess, though."

I can but hope that if we do find any traveller's remains, Isilmewen thought as she cast her eyes around, if nothing else, perhaps we can give explanation to any persons missing, if any still look for them.

(not sure how well Isilmewen can do so, but she'll try to assist Dak's looking around. Perhaps even check for any unusual tracks at its entrance that indicates a clothed humanoid body was dragged in, or anything similarly out of place)

Somehow I don't imagine the referenced leaf being a thing that just grows out and about, but with consideration to Seleniniel and Ruahdri, Isilmewen will certainly try to keep a lookout for her allies

Isilmewen Mithvanryl

Sylvari, 213 years of age, ranger, and follower of Heren'salkya

Appearance

Isilmewen has two very different appearances, depending on where she is.

In a formal or relaxed setting, Isilmewen attempts a more refined appearance, as she was taught. She wears a red dress, of darker shade than her wavy wildfire hair, fitted and cut more for ease of movement than formality. Around her waist and over a shoulder she wears a red sash with a satchel, fastened by a brooch in the form of a circle of stars. She also wears a single purple earring, which gives accent to her violet eyes.Out

in the wilds, Isilmewen maintains a practical appearance, with well maintained leather armor, and her otherwise wavy hair tied back in one or two long braids. A deep green cloak helps to blend her in among the foliage, fastened in front with the same brooch. On her back she carries travel pack and bow, with her arrows, a short sword and carving blade fastened at her waist. Her violet eyes always glimmer with anticipation and laughter at seeing new things and experiences.

History

The House of Mithvanryl was one of the minor Houses in Ela'Ishtel, having relatively recently gained standing enough to claim political sway and presence in the prestigious capital through the acquisition of a few choice trade agreements, controversial though they were having dealt with Corian merchants. Ever ambitious, House Mithvanryl sought to increase their standing, mayhap even to the heights of the Great Houses... eventually, that is. The political games in Sylvari were all too often long ones, even for Sylvari themselves, and House Mithvanryl understood this. So it was with this in mind that they carefully taught their children and children's children the delicacies of etiquette, machinations of the sociopolitical landscape, and how to make and hold upstanding appearances.

Alas, none of these lessons particularly stuck with Isilmewen.

It wasn't that Isilmewen couldn't understand the lessons, but rather a simple fact that she never could truly grasp the concept of subtleties. If something was funny, she laughed; if sad, she cried; if happy, she grinned. And often she could find reason to laugh, even at her own misfortunes. Isilmewen couldn't stifle the emotions in her heart, and was ill suited to the temperament demanded by the gatherings held by lord and lady alike. Similarly, being stuck in one place, even a place as beautiful as Ela'Ishtel, didn't suit Isilmewen, and she frequently wandered the city, peering out into the forests.

For a mercy, though Isilmewen was firstborn of her generation, she didn't have to shoulder the burden of expectation alone. Raenenniel, her sister, and Sidhadel, her brother, proved far more capable in upholding the House's image than she was, though the question remained what to do about Isilmewen, herself. Other Houses especially enjoyed ensuring that Isilmewen was invited to gatherings they hosted to sabotage the Mithvanryl image. Eventually, the question of what to do about Isilmewen was posed to the three siblings, a sort of trial by which they would learn how to carefully manoeuvre a difficult situation.

The first and obvious option, which none of the siblings were willing to propose, was the idea of sending Isilmewen into military service. As much as Isilmewen proved a liability in the sociopolitical landscape, she was still their sister, and they didn't want to see her unofficially exiled to a border patrol.

Instead, the three siblings contemplated different possibilities. Considering the current resources of the House, one aspect that was lacking was a field agent. Someone who could travel and check on their dealings with respect to trade agreements. But it also had to be someone who wasn't acting as direct envoy or emissary, which left someone who could cut through the wilderness and provide guidance or protection on the road. With official reason to be absent the capital, the other Houses couldn't use Isilmewen as a target, she could travel more or less as she wanted, a prospect which excited her, and, most importantly, she could still freely return to see her brother and sister.

With that in mind, Isilmewen was instead offered training amongst the rangers, that she could survive off the land wherever she went, and act as loyal field agent to House Mithvanryl.

It was the first true exposure Isilmewen received to the wilderness proper. No longer surrounded by the finery and beauty of Ela'Ishtel, the young Isilmewen took breath of the wild, and found in it a freedom she had only taken glimpse of from the safety of the capital.

As she grew more familiar with the wild, Isilmewen began to recognize it as something larger than even the Sylvari Empire. The way the winds were nature's breath, the rivers nature's lifeblood, and filled with life with all the creatures that called the wild home... It was something that demanded respect, and even protection. Even as carefree as Isilmewen was, this was a tenant that spoke to her heart, to observe the natural cycles, and protect them. She could recognize in herself predator and prey both, and learned what she needed to ensure that, for however she had to survive in the wilds, she'd minimize her impact on the wider wild as best she could.

Being Mithvanryl field agent was an assignment that Isilmewen took to well, and was content with her position, free as she was to wander the road and wild amidst the marvels of the wider world.
It was during an otherwise routine outing, where Isilmewen met up with a caravan late to the trade, delayed in their departure due to a particularly unruly horse that they were trying to get as an emergency replacement for one lost on the road. Throwing caution aside in the spur of the moment, Isilmewen tried riding the creature herself, curious if she could help tame its poor behaviour. The first attempt went about as badly as it could've, the bucking horse succeeded in throwing her out the pasture and into the streets, where she fell into a passerby garbed in a red dress.

Even as she apologized to the other woman, Isilmewen couldn't help but laugh at her misfortune and the absurdity of the situation. Though unamused, the woman in red gave a loud sigh as she accepted Isilmewen's help getting back on her feet. After helping subdue the horse into behaving, Isilmewen sought after the same woman in the tavern after to offer a less hasty apology. As they talked, the woman garbed in red dress recognized in Isilmewen the same kindred energy held by many like herself. That was how Isilmewen met Serah of the Laughing Maidens, and shortly came to count herself among Heren'salkya's following. To her, the concept of fortune was as intermingled with nature as the cycles of weather and life, even if they were distinct things, and she shared many of the same values as the Laughing Maidens.

After finding fellowship among Heren'salkya's people, when next Isilmewen returned to the capital, she announced to her family that she would pass on her inheritance to her brother and sister, intending to continue as she had been instead of settling down. This proclamation came as something of a relief to House Mithvanryl; House Mithvanryl thought that Isilmewen would mellow as she matured, and perhaps return to Ela'Ishtel as a proper Lady once she had burnt through the fires of her adolescence. And yet, even as the decades passed, Isilmewen's inner fire maintained the same intensity as her bright red hair. If anything, her travels seemed to increase her wanderlust and desire for the next adventure.

There wasn't unanimous approval at Isilmewen's announcement, however. Both Sidhadel and Raenenniel hoped that they would face the sociopolitical battlefield together with their older sister, and they wanted to spend more time with her. It became the biggest fight among the siblings they ever had, and even Isilmewen couldn't laugh. At least, not at the time. It was only with Isilmewen's laughter the following night that the siblings' let go their cultivated images, and shared with Isilmewen their real feelings. Even as they really did enjoy hearing about Isilmewen's travels, they had grown increasingly worried that Isilmewen wouldn't return home. They feared her safety, and wanted to see more of her.

"I can't promise my safety; Heren'salkya knows when I might get truly in over my head on the road. Or maybe not. Does the dancer of fortune know which way she dances next? But that's true every year, even every day. Sister, brother, you both mean the world to me. But I can't play on the same field you do, not without hurting you in the process. Take care of things here, as you both learned and know how, and I'll take care of things afield. And you know I'll still spend what time I have with you when I'm in the city."

It was during a following year that House Mithvanriel saw an opportunity in their midst. Through an exchange of favours, they were in position to gain significant standing by providing aid to a Great House, that of House Isil'nari. However, the venture required someone better suited to the wilderness and fields than the dangers of banquet and subtlety. So then Isilmewen was called upon, and on hearing the promise of adventure unlike any she had yet taken, she knew she had to go.

Was I too quick on presuming the lull after battle? If so, please defer my post, as it is predicated on there being a stillness before Isilmewen breaks the silence

Re: meat, I figured much the same, and thought that might've been something Isilmewen also heard of, part of why she asked for the second opinion. She knows she is on a similar page as Rosariel with respect to 'waste not' and trying to make use of what they can before returning the remainder to nature's cycle

“You to one flank and I to the other, mellon?”

Isilmewen nodded, "I think that'd be best. Against neld, we need to cover all sides."

As she swiftly stepped into position, Isilmewen couldn't help but grimace as she stepped through Gods knew what these creatures' last meals were. Pushing the thought from her mind, she relaxed as she let her training guide her.

Left eye focused, left foot forward, right in back pointed aside. Bow in left hand, aligned with left eye, arrow in right hand, inhale, draw.

Oh Heren'salkya, may I join you in this dance? What rhythm do you dance to today? I can but hope I don't stumble.

Hold, aim, exhale, release, follow through, draw.

Training and fortune hand in hand saw Isilmewen's first few arrows fly true. She gave a satisfied smile as she heard them pierce the creature's hide. However, as she drew for another, she couldn't help but be distracted with the way the light danced along with Arathea's blade and song. She even began to hum along with the bladesinger's hymn.

Perhaps it was these things, or perhaps something else, but that arrow released pierced both monster and ally.

"Sarigraamin," Isilmewen muttered, before calling out, "Sorry!"

Refocusing her aim, Isilmewen continued to give her all in supporting the front line with her arrows.

When the battle ceased, and in stillness but for the breaths of her companions and her own heartbeat resonating in her ears, when it was clear the danger had passed, Isilmewen laughed. It was a free and light laugh that left her lips from where she stood.

(if anyone asks why she laughs)

"We survive a full kinta of these creatures. Nald at once! How can I but laugh, seeing that we live. Is that not reason to rejoice?" Isilmewen asked in return.

Afterwards, Isilmewen approached Arathea, bowing her head, "You received one of my arrows when you never should have. I'm sorry."

(tag Arathea )

As Isilmewen went about investigating the body of the owlbear who received her arrows, attempting to retrieve any that would fly again, she looked to Rosariel. "What do you think, huntress?" she asked, "If we drag them out, will we be able to make use of these creatures? I know I could try using their feathers for fletching, but would you have any insight on if their meat is safe?"

(tag Rosariel )

Finally, Isilmewen would find Dak, and in so doing grin at the Cidal, "It seems fortune favors the bold, this time at least," she laughed, before she asked, "Think there's anything else to find in this mess of a nest? Besides its former occupants, that is."

(tag Dak )

(more for later, but for now back to finishing the detailing for me)

Given the first full group meeting was at a formal dinner, during that scene Isilmewen was garbed in a lovely red dress. Not too fancy by the standards of Lords and Ladies, as it was a dress more designed more for ease of movement than formality. When not expecting trouble and in the city, Isilmewen tends to wear that dress, accentuated with her star circle brooch used to hold a sash and satchel.

Out in the wilds and wilderness, by comparison, Isilmewen wears very practical attire - her armor, and deep green cloak in particular, which still accentuate her warm, violet eyes.

Hi

I'm still in process of finalizing the backstory draft, and a few other tidbits. In the meantime, here's a short bit about Isilmewen.

She's a Sylvari ranger with hair like wildfire, frequently wearing a brooch of a ring of silver stars to fasten her cloak with. She isn't one to hide her emotions, if anything seems almost unable to, and is particularly prone to laughter at times.

Isilmewen can be observed paying special respects for Shinara, never asking for favor, but in everyday ways as observing the ways both fortune and misfortune unfold. In her mind, the dance of fortune and misfortune is as much part of nature as the forests and the rivers; another natural flow in the world to which all ascribe to.

Needless to say, she acts far younger than her age would suggest, even for a Silvari.

I'll be putting together the final draft of her backstory in a bit

"You've traveled far," the Sylvari innkeeper noted to the travelers, a Corian family by appearance and crest.

"Yes. We are staying here for a time to meet with some Sylvari of Ela'Ishtel" the inn keeper presumed that was the father who spoke.

"Ah. Business, I presume? I don't mean to pry, but it's just curious you are here in person," The inn keeper replied, taking the exchange of coin and producing two room keys.

"I'd say that it was to inspect the materiel personally," the mother now spoke, "But that is something of an excuse..." her gaze drifted towards where the sandy-haired children chased each other around.

"They caught ear of a river near here with unusual... Footprints?" the father explained

The inn keeper's polite smile faltered, "If I may," she began, "Duin Shee Dalnya is not a place for children. Even if I had full faith in Heren'salkya, that is a gamble I wouldn't take."

"It's real, then?" the mother asked

The inn keeper nodded, "Oh, yes. The tiny prints on the shore, wanderings of tiny folk we cannot see."

"What's so dangerous about that? Sounds like just animal tracks mistaken for-"

"No," the inn keeper insisted, "There is no mistaking them, and the river holds stories. Old stories. They tell of a queen of faerie, dead with the departure of magic. And it is surmised by some that they who still patrol the river wait for their new queen. All we know for certain is, when the prints are seen in greater abundance and frequency, the river is likely to be soon shrouded in mist. People and animal alike nearby have vanished during the time the river mists over."

"So it's safe otherwise?"

"Perhaps. But again, that is a gamble I'd personally be unwilling to take. Whatever is at play there acts beyond the whims of fortune."

To be updated as I increase the complexity and scale of these random tables

Simple Domain Random Table

(draw from a playing card deck)

Overall aesthetic:

• Red: Dreamy


• Black: Nightmarish

Landmark:

• Hearts: Maze/labyrinth


• Diamonds: Castle


• Clubs: Tower


• Spades: Ruins

Location characteristic

• 1: Underwater


• 2: Floating (in sky or clouds)


• 3: In the canopy (tree or mushroom)


• 4: Mountainous


• 5: Everything is huge


• 6: Plains/field


• 7: Above/beside lake


• 8: Mirror world


• 9: Mushroomy


• 10: Caverns


• J: Crystalline


• Q: Flowery


• K: On/at a rainbow

First draft. Going to keep drafting

As varied as the A'nia are, so too are their motivations and desires. Loosely grouped, there are a number of common dispositions among the Dreamers

• The first and most straightforward of these is, fundamentally, isolationist. Magic and fae departed Audalis, and they're content with leaving it behind


• The second group are those seeking new inspirations, for better or worse. Exposure to Audalis and partaking of experiences of the people of Audalis, by proxy or otherwise, becomes a source of inspiration through which new dreams can be developed. They may attempt to collect or influence mortals and encroach upon the material plane for the sake of finding such inspirations.


• The third group are the Dreamers that want to retake Audalis in some fashion. Some may seek to reclaim it as what they knew it as, a sort of shared dream between chaos and order, wishing to incorporate it within the Wyld but in their design. Others might simply want it for the sake of wanting it. In either case, the motivation leads to the same action, an attempt at weakening the divide between material and dream, usually through introducing certain dangerous artifacts into mortal hands and relying on mortals themselves to do what they cannot directly.


• The fourth group are mostly made up of newer Dreamers, who see Audalis as less a place to be reclaimed, and more a canvas in need of a new painting. They will act similarly to the third group, but out of whimsy more than any driving motivation.

This lends itself to enable fae in general as a wild card in the landscape of Audalis. While the machinations of the gods and their followers are, as ever, the driving force of a lot of conflicts upon Audalis, there remains room for those fleeting and rare phenomena that defies explanation being linked to Dreamer activity.

In mah 'ed *pokes forehead*

Would that I hadn't flaked, but turn of 2021 had me so burnt out with work I basically fell out of the world again (if only mentally)

(psst, Bree, what do you mean another Ara?! I've been replaced?!

... Couldnt resist saying the thing )

There may be the perception of some scholars in Audalis that revel in the obscure and niche knowledges that the fae are organized into two overarching courts. But is that really the case? The dreaming as a whole is as chaos incarnate.

Where then, does the concept of these overarching courts come from? Quite simply, it arises as a simple misconception that if and when a sprite speaks of belonging to a court, the courts they speak of are the same ones. But this simply isn't the case. Each A'nia effectively holds their own court that their denizens are a part of, but the A'nia in general don't ascribe to any 'court' aside their own.

That said, it's not as if A'nia are isolated from each other. Just as trade, politics, and relations exist in Audalis, so to does it in A'niorna. Considered another way, inspiration and keys are the currency of the dreaming. Sharing dreams with each other is one way they stave off stagnancy, an exchange of inspiration. Keys, in this context, are connections to Audalis itself. Locations and times where dream can overlap material. In this context, Cal'ele'miur itself is as one of the most valuable, for being the largest and most constant place of overlap.

So if courts are not as they appear from an outside perspective, what of the reference to seasons? Winter court and summer court nomenclature?

Another scenario where perspective is missing context. Without context, a sprite proclaiming that they're of winter might seem to be indicating an allegiance. But to the dreams and dreamers, Audalis itself is like winter to them. A harsh and inhospitable environment, cold inasmuch as it lacks the saturation of magic that is as innate to the dreaming as the very ground is innate to the material. Thus, a proclamation of being 'of winter' is more the declaration that they are designed to withstand extreme conditions. Usually these are fae made from Audalis natives given new name and form.

Similarly, a common thing to overhear will be sprites saying they are 'returning to summer'. Without context, it is easy to make the mistake that it's a return to the summer court. But quite simply, if Audalis is their winter, an inhospitable environment, then summer is A'niorna, a realm of bounty and harvest.

Places where the Wyld Dream overlaps the Material

ao'milin

Special mushroom rings are the most common form this takes, a small and simple two-way gateway that sprites especially can slip through. Sprites being the smallest and yet most durable form that can withstand the 'dreamless realm'.

Sometimes it's specific impossible phenomena, often obscured by and shrouded in mist and clouds. When people of Audalis see shapes in the clouds, ever wonder how real those shapes actually are?

The magic 'matter' of the dreamscape is usually intangible in the material. Thus, the forms become obscured, hard to see for what it really is. Except in liminal spaces where imaginations of both fae and mortal overlap.

The peripherals of reality where the hold of Audalis' deities over the shape and strength of reality becomes thin enough that it overlaps the domain of a dream. Behind reflections in mirrors, ice, or even the corner of one's eye. Barely observable in cloud, mist, and fog.

"So, you're a romantic, are you? Eyes are the window into the soul, you say?"

"Naturally. And I must confess, my lady, your eyes, they are stunning. Brilliant and dazzling."

"What do you see then, in my eyes?"

"Like finely crafted jewels, faceted and-Dear gods! How-"

"Haha, oh you are a delight. My eyes are indeed open. But not to my soul."

"What are you?!"

"I'll forgive your sudden lack of decorum if you answer me truthfully."

"Stay back!"

"What did you see?"

"Get away from me!"

"Rude. You could've at least told me that they were... Dreamy."

So it only occurs to me after a dark dream of pained memories from another world inspired me to read the source material to those memories, but if you were to look up the Hrothgar of the videogame FFXIV, I feel like there's many good Ch'dau references there.

Just going to drop this here since I can.

(I know, not much of a re-hello. But in my defense I have about as loose a sense of time as you might expect of a fairy. I moved countries and I'm getting married. But this thread isn't about that.)

Antique Lightsaber

Hay fever has been utterly incapacitating me

Will try to get something up soon though  

Just look at it. 

One story, three+ lives interwoven by chance, fortune and misfortune...

And we've put it all together

It really has been a lovely experience, and both of you are amazing 

Mosic returns to Dravnor because he still feels he is needed there. 

Rest of the group shrugs at being down to three. 

"Well, easier to travel just the three of us."

Saina "Ooh! Road trip! Can I go can I go? Pleaaaaase?"

"Where in the seven hells did you come from?!" 

CC is in chase, and black-creature-thing is almost certain to get the attention of Samael in the air too...

Now to see if CC can convince Samael to let her have a bite so she can fly too... (I don't expect that to succeed )

“ Too many strange things have been happening at night this year. Did you hear about the witch they found?” A person remarked. 

Strange things? Night? It's 10:30pm... CC thought to herself, I guess I count as one

“ Stop it all of you”  a middle aged man spoke to the crowd “you are all a bunch of superstitious... GOSSIPERS!”... most of the crowd began to argue up until 

“ There is not such a thing as monsters, ghosts or ---” the man spoke as he was lifted into the air by something big, dark and fast. 

The crowd panicked , yelled, screamed and everyone started to run for cover. 

CC's ears would have twitched if they were cat-like in that moment, and her eyes narrowed as she looked upwards. But the shape was too quick, too sudden - she didn't get a good look.

"Take cover! Go together! Take shelter at station! Don't split up!" CC called out with the voice of one of the louder men, trying to help organize the crowd even as she slipped away from the crowd and into the side street. One jump later, and she was on the roof. She shed her disguise, her ears and tails reappearing as she sniffed the air and scanned the airway, trying to catch sight or scent of whatever it was that had taken the man.

(assuming she can track the creature by some means)

Shifting to have a cat mask, and a short grey cloak, CC took a breath and began chasing after the being. Her tails aided her as she lept from roof to roof, keeping her balance on even precarious jumps. There was no way to be stealthy in a chase like this, so she opted for speed, rushing onward to see what it is she saw - her current prey, as it might be said.

"Why isn't Ocyari in the Lovers or the Maidens?"

*flashback to Kithran convincing Ocyari to steal something from Serah's room*

"Bad decisions were made."

(Going to use [ and ] to denote speaking in Japanese)

[How long was I out?] CC rubbed her head as she looked out over the unfamiliar terrain, [Where... where am I?]

Taking stock of herself, she noted that she had nothing with her from the previous (was it previous? She didn't know) night. Leaning out over the edge of the roof, she looked around, taking glimpses at the passers by on the sidewalk below her. Copying their shapes, she let her ears and tails merge into her body, those non-human features disappearing from sight. She borrowed the curled blonde hair of one woman, the dress of another, and the skin tone of a third. It took far more effort to get her incisors to reduce to the appropriate size for a human mouth, [No, no no no, no biting. Don't need blood. I don't]

The weakness she could feel in her body told her otherwise, but she'd sooner find the prescription she needed than take blood from an innocent person...

If her ears were still showing, they'd quiver as she heard the sound of rapid footsteps from an alley nearby. Someone chasing another someone?

Blood from a not-innocent person... bit of a grey line there. Or at the very least, she reasoned that if she truly needed to, better that than an innocent.

Slinking along the rooftop line, she walked around until she was directly above them. A mugger taking the purse from a woman they had cornered. CC's lips curled back in a snarl, before she dropped down behind them. Landing on her feet, she punched the mugger in the stomach to wind them when they turned around in surprise, before taking the purse back from them and giving it to the woman.

"That way! Go quick! Call police!" CC shooed the woman out of the alley, before looking back to the mugger.

"You're going to pay for that, b*%#" the mugger swore, drawing a switchknife and lunging forward with it.

CC grabbed the extended hand, and went with the momentum, pulling the mugger off his feet, kicking him as she brought her feet up, and sending him into the wall behind her as she followed through with the reverse somersault, once more landing on her feet. Seeing the mugger completely dazed, CC looked around quickly, to make sure no one was looking. With a sigh she took hold of the mugger's arm, pulled back their sleeve, a disgusted look crossing her face before she bit.

It wasn't much beyond a sip, even as she felt as if she needed more. She quickly bandaged the mugger's wound.

If I had a phone, I could call police myself... but I don't have anything. What number even is police here? And where is here? CC wondered.

With no other option, she left the mugger where they were with a sigh. She had told the woman being mugged to call the police anyhow. Hopefully that would do it?

Not the most heroic things she could have done, but without knowing where she was, and with no resources available to her, CC's options were limited. She retreated further into the alley, before she changed her appearance again, borrowing the skin tone and shape of the woman she had hopefully rescued. When she stepped out on to the street, she walked up beside another there, "Hello," She offered with a fang-less smile, "I'm rather lost right now - could you tell me the time, and point me towards the nearest transit stop?"

All Kithran has to do is lie about what they're stealing... or make sure to pick up a cookie for Ocyari after a heist... or something... right?

Ocyari is not too hard to manipulate... maybe she's early practise for Kithran

Yep... that's Ocyari...

Dunno if she's actually a Lover or not but she definitely attracts and often hangs out with them. She is a good source to find and get cookies for snacks after all.

Now that you mention it... I haven't a clue. Talk of languages hadn't come up at all when I originally made CC

Let's see... Japanese is a certainty. Chinese is probably far less familiar - can get a vague understanding of it when it's spoken, can't speak it herself. Relatively fluent with English.