<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/ERG0LH1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Arwen Deveroux ap Leanhaun<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>January 1st, 2018<br/><strong>Status:</strong>--<br/><strong>Notes/Triggers:</strong><br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Everyone<br/><hr/><hr/><br/><em>"Sir Arwen, thank you--I accept your leal service on behalf of Duchess Gabriella for the duration and am honored to both make your acquaintance and call upon you for aid.. As the others arrive, we will get to a more thorough briefing. If you are not already acquainted, the fellow before you is Mr. Richard Lancaster."</em><br/><br/>From her kneeling position, Arwen watched Count Harald's face.  The pause probably meant that her "shirt" had fallen forward again, showing off her piercings to the new Count as she knelt.  Once she had been recognized, she rose slowly... allowing herself the leave to extend her legs first so as let them and her ass be admired before standing up straight and meeting the Count in his eyes.  The red shade of his face confirmed her suspicions that he had been enjoying the view; This is why her superiors in House Leanhaun made her take that damnable oath to join the House, to keep her body exposed, and thereby making sure her physical assets were always useful.<br/><br/>Her own flush started the moment she the sidhe and redcap came into view and watching them look at her coming in.  Especially the redcap, he openly enjoyed her barely clad-form walking over to them on a frosty new years day.  It was like a drug; a guilty pleasure that you didn't want to do, but still relished when you did.  The feeling of arousal shot through her veins and made her exposed skin tingle, like their eyes were hands touching all her erogenous zones.  That these were changelings, who had seen the wonder and beauty of the dreaming, yet still stared at her, made the tingling all the more intense.  She met the redcap's eyes and knew that he wanted a taste of her, and when he said something too low for her to understand she still knew what he had meant.<br/><br/>She met that selfsame redcap's eyes again, being introduced to him, still filled with hunger at her scantily-clad form.  "Mr. Lancaster" Bowing to him, and feeling her top peel from her skin again and expose her breasts.  She had tried to beat the system before, to wear something that wouldn't flash her assets, but then the clothing in question tended to disintegrate.  She smiled at him, standing contrapposto with one hand on a mostly bare hip and her sword in the other. "It is wonderful to make your acquaintance" she said, her position and face one of someone who knows that she is being admired.<br/><br/>But she wasn't here for that.  She was a knight performing her sacred duty for her beloved Countess.  She was to investigate and avenge the Countess Calle's death, not perform whatever base sexual desire flitted across the mind of any kithian that crossed her path. Arwen turned away from the gaze of Rick, and walked away, still allowing herself to sway her hips as if she were on a catwalk as she went to a clear space. There seemed to be time to burn, so she did what she always did when she had a few spare minutes, stretch and practice her sword forms.<br/><br/>Arwen's stretching routine would have gotten her jailed if it were summer and there were any minors around.  Her high leg stretches from ballet were lewd-icrous (see what I did there?).  But her point here was not in showing off.  Now she was down to business, and it was serious business indeed.  The rush of exhibitionist arousal faded away, and the endorphins of exercise came to the forefront.  This was Arwen's true calling, the dance of death, not desire. Her sword sliced though the air with practiced ease, whirling and dancing around her, as she moved with inhuman grace.  Once in a while she saw one or the other Kithian watching her, but she ignored it and continued, albeit with a smile on her face.<br/><br/>A bark turned her head immediately, her body following the turn with practiced ease, only to see a massive dog pulling a tall, lanky, cute pooka on a leash.  Arwen turned to finish this particular sword form... and NOW she was showing off, swinging that much harder and faster to look more badass, or turning her body accidentally-on-purpose when she did a kick to flash the pooka for half a second.  The form was paused when Count Harald introduced her to the assembled kithian, then quickly being continued after introductions had been made.<br/><br/>Arwen stopped altogether when the sluagh introduced themselves.  Arwen had a soft spot for sluagh, not only were they usually misunderstood by most kithian, but they were good at all the things Arwen was terrible at.  She had also found that they made for entertaining lovers, as two (or more) naked bendy bodies in bed are a recipe for a good time.  More often than not though, Arwen prefered to drink their strange tea and listen to their hushed stories.  Arwen dreamed of not being noticed sometimes... her oath (and curse) made it impossible to fit in except at a stripper convention, and even then she stuck out as slutty.  Looking at this sluagh, how they were covered head to toe, made her a bit envious and also a bit sad.  What was it about themselves that they felt they had to hide?<br/><br/>She was too far away to hear the sluagh's name, so after introductions Arwen approached them.  "H... Hi" she said tentatively. "I'm S... I'm Arwen". She bowed to the mysterious kithian.  "I couldn't catch your name back there, but it is nice to make your acquaintance".  She was close so as to hear the sluagh should they reply, but doing her best to maintain a polite distance.  Manners were sometimes very important to the underfolk, and she didn't want to offend so soon.<br/><br/>Walking away from the slaugh to her self-appointed training ground, she once again felt Rick's eyes on her.  She smiled, that was a good thing.  The Redcap seemed gruff and no nonsense.  Getting on his wrong side would make this endeavor very difficult, she was glad to know that she (or at least her looks) were on his right side.  He seemed like a good sergeant, someone who likes to get shit done. He certainly paced like a motherfucker, that's for sure.<br/><br/>The second Pooka was... shocking.  Arwen was used silly or mischievous pwca; not some forked-tounged-animal-headed-scorpion-king-egypt kind of Pooka.  Arwen was a student of magic and the dreaming, and she had never ever HEARD of something like that except for legends of ancient gods lost in the deep dreaming.  Gods you never wanted to meet alone on a dark trod, or with anyone on a dark trod, or with anyone on a normal trod, or ever period.  This one, she gave a bit of a berth to.<br/><br/>The Troll, she frowned at.  He was a troll, that was one mark against him.  It meant he already had a stronger connection to Duchess Gabrielle.  Anything they all did, he would get extra attention.<br/><br/>Two, he was famous.  The Count was flustered around her beauty, but awestruck at his talent. Who knows if the Duchess shared the same sentiment?<br/><br/>Three, he was yoked.  Arwen had a very fit body that looked like it was carved out of stone. But he had massive muscles that were carved out of bigger stone on a more massive stone base and the stone in question was a meteorite made of magic blue space metal... or something...<br/><br/>Four, he was of House Beaumayn.  So he had a stronger connection to Gabrielle AND Count Harald.<br/><br/>Five, he was also a knight.  So she would not be the only one of Gabrielle's knights on the expedition, therefore taking even more attention away from her.<br/><br/>She felt her limelight fading away as the big blue Beaumayn stole the show.  Then she glanced over at Rick, who shot a glance back at her ass.  She smiled at that, glad that someone still remembered her.  She glanced over to Quinn, then to the cute pooka, then to the<del>disturbing</del>intriguing Corrin, trying to catch each one's eye for just a second in whatever way she could.  "Whelp" she thought to herself, shrugging mentally "Guess every base sexual desire of every kithian here is getting met." She ran her hands through her dreads. "Goddamit."<br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>After Rick mentioned the body, Arwen perked up.  "I'd like to... well, maybe your doctor friend could send me pictures or descriptions of any injuries?" She said to Rick. "I know the Prodigals, and their ways.  I might be able to help identify injury caused by creatures beyond the ken of your friend." She bashfully smiled back "But I'm sure she knows her way around a body more than I."  Even though magic and the supernatural were something she was trained in, investigation and forensics were not; unless you counted binge watching 12 seasons of CSI.  "Delegating" was what it was called in House Leanhaun. The art and craft of getting the fuck out of the way when you were out of your depth.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">nsfw</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://i.imgur.com/RbopXJ9.jpg)</div></div>