<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/BoNlCxG.jpg)</div><strong>Lilith Wynne, Human Infernal Mistress</strong><br/><br/>Lilith's first intake of breath was in panic... sheer and absolute panic. A panic unbecoming of the woman she had been for years aboard the ship. She had been so loyal, she had done everything to please Blackbeard, but in the end betrayed. Her Mistress said a day like this would come... a day that no matter the loyalties, no matter the deeds done, that all she knew would be washed away as the waves wash away the sand. Was this what she meant? Was her Mistress somehow a part of this? Her Mistress spoke to the infernal realm, so then was this their prophecy? Was she the hell's instrument of vengeance? Of Damnation? Was this her Mistress' will, to have Blackbeard die by the hands of the creature, no... the monster she had created?<br/><br/>Lilith wouldn't disappoint her, she would make her happy... revenge. Revenge... the word was her's as providence. Her very life dedicated to it, even if it weren't for the words in the darkness to suggest such a course. She would see Blackbeard impaled beneath the heel of her boot, she call out to her Mistress not by her own voice, but by the screams of the bloodthirsty man who had taken her life. Her spine, though more so the spot where the blade had pierced her, still itched with the thoughts running through her head.<br/><br/>But first... she had matters to address with the witch that damned her to die...<br/><br/><strong>"You."</strong>Lilith spat out as she slowly regained a knee and then to her feet. Her body, once a young noblewoman's shape, had become in recent years shaped by the infernal forces she trafficed in alongside her Mistress. Her bare skin unblemished by the tortures she had endured in her first year, her breasts intensely large and unrestrained now standing in the sand, her body toned and shaped for the harsh life she once walked... but now, hairless below the neck and stark naked upon the sand, she looked at the witch before her with hatred.<br/><br/><strong>"Explain. This."</strong>she said with a growl at her lips.<strong>"If I am to seek vengeance for my own death, then I would know why the blade was put to me in the first place!"</strong>she demanded, her stance one that suggested she wasn't backing down, nor showing a bit of shame in her predicament. Her voice both yearned for an answer, and yet somehow, despite not being in any position of power or holding an instrument of punishment or death, demanded an answer with the unspeakable threat laced beneath.