You won against the above OC in a battle!

“Oh, hell yea!” exclaimed the youth as he slammed down his deck of cards, “I! Won!” He balled his hand into a fist and gave his chest a quick thump, because of course he did. “I told you that I was good at playing solitaire! My boss used to commend me about it back at work, you know? He’s a really good talker, and I think you’d like to meet him someday, huh?” Still basking in his own (completely deserved) victory, Fitzgerald leaned back in his seat and unceremoniously shoved the cards aside, ignoring the fact that all of their faces involved cats in one way or another.

It was just really fucking unfortunate that, technically, he had been playing the wrong card game the entire time.

But would anyone have the courage to tell him that he was actually playing blackjack? And was actually pretty fucking shitty at it too? Hubris was a bitch, after all.

“Not that you were a bad player, of course,” the young man continued with a raised brow, “I was just…” He paused solely for dramatic effect. “Better.” He chuckled, then looked over at the black cat the young woman apparently had. Now that he thought about it further… This place was covered in cat toys, cat memorabilia, cat-patterned items… Fitzgerald’s chuckling turned into a more ominous sort of laughter as he curled a lock of his hair around his finger and continued to muse:

“But seriously, does this mean that I can look at those clothes of yours now? You… Said that fashion was called Lolita, right? I haven’t seen anything like it before, but it’s so frilly, so… Pretty.”

Sure, the word tasted the slightest bit odd on his tongue. Dresses and frills and beauty… It was a bit bizarre, really! He had only seen women in dresses ever since he was a boy, yet he wasn’t against the idea of wearing them himself. Just confused! Just the slightest bit baffled. Oh, Fitzgerald sure as hell hoped that he would work a dress and still look like a reasonable, handsome aristocrat… That was all that mattered to him, right?

The intern’s gaze shifted over to her cat before he piqued in further, “Oh, and I can take sketches of your cat, right? Minuit?” He chuckled and waved at the feline with a surprising amount of genuine excitement. “Later on, of course. I still need to get myself settled into this lodging, you know. Sorry if it’s inconvenient - I guess.”

Fitzgerald fucking dies. follow-up time.

Leika pressed her knee against poor Fitzgerald’s shoulder. Pinning him against the ground.
Poor Fitzgerald. This ‘friendly’ fisticuffs had ended poorly for him.
“You didn’t even stand a chance!” the Easterling said as she peppered his face with some fresh snow.
“You’re the wórst snowball fighter I’ve ever seen,” she taunted. Maybe not everyone uses their fists in a snowball fight Leika. A thought that hadn’t crossed her mind yet.
She removed her knee from his shoulder and allowed the older boy to squirm away from her.
“Never been in a snow fight before Fancypants?” she asked.
“You fight,” she explained. “And use snow.” With that, Leika got up and scooped another hand full of snow. Compressing them into a new snowball, that she directly threw at the half-helpless Fitzgerald. She laughed when her ball connected. Like the playground-bully she was.

“Direct hit!” She cried out. Then her laugh faltered. “Come on, at least try to have some fun,” the roughling challenged. “You’re always so gloomy and acting if you have a stick in your butt.” She crossed her arms.
“You’re what? 23? Not 80!”
Leika demonstratively kicked up some of the fresh fallen snow.
“I understand that people, from your blood status, have to grow up quickly and all. Plus you all have your noses in your own asses. But try at least to smile.”
Leika smiled. Baring her needle like fangs, as if setting an example.
“Bet you never stole something. Or pranked someone!” Those things weren’t the same though. One was a crime punishable by death by hanging. The other was pranking.

Leika hopped closer and held out her hand for Fitzgerald. In case he could put his ego aside. Whatever his reaction was, she shrugged. Desperately trying to hide her disappointment/glee.
“I got an idea,” she said. An idea so evil, so despicable, it made Leika’s ears prick. They almost curled like little devil horns.
“Jitterbug,” she said. M.Pourife didn’t like being called that Leika!
“He’s at Xander’s now. I’ve seen them chat and parade around on their horses. We can waylay..” Leika hopped closer. Grabbing Fitzgerald’s shoulders, as if she needed those beanpole-bones to ground herself.
“And as soon as he sets a step outside we can attack him!” Attack!? “With snow!” Oh ok.

“He'd be so surprised. Can you imagine!?” Leika could. She shook Fitzgerald’s shoulders before barking out a laughter. “Oh his face! I bet he’d grimace. Maybe even yelp! Oh man, this is going to be h-y-s-t-e-r-i-c-a-l.”
Leika finally let go of his shoulder and took a step back. She observed her (unintended) partner in crime before holding out her hand to him.
“How about it Fancypants? You’re up for some fun? Like real fun? Or you’re too scared?” Leika pressed her hands in her armpits. She started to mimic a chicken. Sounds and all.
“I should call you Fancy Chicken hu? Rich-coward. Come on little man! Proof me wrong.”

--
Her heart beated in her chest. Leika squirm underneath Duram that sat comfortably on her. On her!? She snarled and kicked her feet angrily.
“You cheated!” She snarled. “You, you screamed!?” She added.
Void did that woman scream. It still rang in her ear and she feared it turned her (partly) deaf. Leika had never heard such a sound before and frankly? She didn’t like it. Not a single bit.

“Shut your maul featherbrain,” Leika said. Not respecting the other’s (evil) monologue. “Nobody has time for your shitty background story!” She added.

“And tell me,” Leika said. Finally taking a sharp breath now the bat had moved from her chest. “How did you do that?! The screaming?”
All anger and violence seemed to be melted away in almost childish wonder.
“Do you just,” she opened her mouth, not producing a sound. “Or is there a secret behind it!?” She grabbed the middle-aged wife’s shoulder.
“I need to know. You can break windows with that scream!” _{(Or boil the blood of every 8 year old that plays Pokémon blue in the dark of the night and get stuck in the dark cave because he didn't picked up flash. No this is not a self-insert.)}

Brown wiped some blood off her nose before grunting in concession, “I have to admit that you’re good at putting up a fight, especially for someone who claims to be a pack animal.” She laughed harshly before running her fingers through her hair and batting her lashes. “Though obviously not good enough, since you still lost…” Gee, thanks. Said the fucker with a knife that she had just taken out of her pocket for the sake of being a total edgelord. The blade itself was clean, though it soon became stained as she wiped her dirtied and battered dress onto it.

What the actual fuck!?

“Eh, but you tried, I guess,” the middle-aged aristocrat grunted while putting the dagger back into her pocket, “It could have been worse. Most of the folks I tend to challenge on these types of street fights get their asses kicked in an instant. You actually put up a fight. Didn’t you say you have powers, or some shit like that?” Brown paused as if awaiting an answer, but she just shrugged regardless of what answer was given - if anything at all. Rude. In fact, she just huffed, “If you had them, you might as well have used them. Otherwise that would have sounded like a waste. A huge fucking waste. Like that music career of yours. And that stupid screaming-”

For a moment, Brown actually had to pause as she muttered, “Not that it really matters…” But why? Why didn’t it matter? Why did she have to take a step back and rub her eye, where it had been kicked at by the bat’s squirming legs previously? “At least you are out of most of the past connections now,” she grunted in her usual harsh voice, “though by the end of the day, maybe you still have some shit in those old bones of yours.” Bitch? You’re older than her?

Though Brown was probably convinced that she didn’t count because being forty-something years old hadn’t given her osteoporosis or arthritis yet. Ouch. Maybe she’d get it later on, but for now…

“Just maybe, though,” she snorted, as if what she had just said was a throwaway comment. It probably wasn’t, huh. Brown’s eyes skimmed the blood that had been left on the floor as the result of the brawl, then quickly slammed her heel into it. Wow. Edgy. She narrowed her eyes as she rubbed her heel until she was certain that the blood had gotten into it, then peered over at the other. “Just maybe. There’s no such thing as certainty anyways. Authority figures need to know that, at least.” And at that moment, the aristocrat flashed a grin before letting out a harsh cackle.

“They really do!” the aristocrat guffawed with a snort, as she held a hand up to her temples and gave them a quick brush, “But I mean… That’s one way to practice… Sometimes you have to stick it to them, yes?” Brown paused, then took a step forward. “How about we do this shit again later?.” Another step forward. “For kicks.” Then another, as she craned her neck in the bat’s direction. “Mmmmmmmmmm?”

Brown fucking dies in a follow-up, as she deserves. (not that she ACTUALLY dies, but like. well. she does deserve to get her ass kicked every so often, as a treat.)

With her assailant pinned to the ground, holding her revolver to the human’s face, Titania said, “You should let go of your weapon now, it won’t help you.” When Brown complied and let go of her knife, Titania put away her gun but still kept her foot on the aristocrat’s chest. “Your passion about these things is kind of admirable but you shouldn’t attack others for ‘stealing’ them”

Earlier, one of Titania’s subjects had requested one such fossil for her research. Finding one was not a problem, thanks to the oracle’s insight. When the queen roughly pulled it out of the embedding stone, she was suddenly accosted by a human fossil enthusiast, claiming that she had found the fossil first and only stepped away for a moment to retrieve her tools. Weather she was telling the truth or not mattered little to Titania, she thought, “She can’t just leave that thing lying here unaccompanied and expect no one to take it.” She could always find another, but the rude way Brown was insisting to be the rightful owner of the fossil made Titania stubborn and uncooperative.

Looking down at her defeated opponent, Titania explained, “I might have considered just letting you have that thing, I can always find more, but why should I do someone as rude and entitled as you any favors?” She stepped aside, letting Brown get back up and said, “I’ll be taking that now, if you have any objections, we can go another round, though I won’t be holding back anymore.” She returned home and instructed her assistant to wait one day before informing Brown of the location of another fossil.

^ Brown does not know when to give up, huh?

Titania was a little proud of herself, for the first time in her long life, she had managed to cook something that was technically edible, but it was nowhere near as good as her opponent’s meal. She couldn’t tell for herself, but according to Titania’s assistant, Smith’s meal was quite good. Titania had expected to lose, she had even prepared a reward, but before she could congratulate the victor, they made a confession.

“Oh? So you were planning to take credit for someone else’s work, did you?” Narrowing her eyes, she took a step towards Smith. As the human closed her eyes, Titania just waited for a moment, before bursting into laughter when Smith opened her eyes again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she lied. Titania was fairly adept at invoking an appropriate level of fear in others; Noticing Smith’s fear from before the competition even started, she considered that making the human ‘overreact’ might make her less afraid afterwards.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll have to decline. Elfame is too dangerous for humans, and we don’t have much use for food eighter.” She explained, “My subjects can eat, unlike me, but they don’t have to. They usually only eat fruits and snacks.” She took out a small package, containing a platinum necklace and said, “I was planning to give this to you, do you think your servants should have it instead? I don’t know, maybe keep this for yourself and just give them a little bonus.”

Meeting Johnson was probably a bad idea, for everyone involved. But how would Titania know that? Her oracle was still blinded and had never looked into this world before, so the queen agreed to meet Smith’s husband…

In spite of the smile laced onto the queen's face, Smith couldn't help but smile sheepishly as she put down the spoon and held her hands up in the air. How unfortunate! Maybe it would've been easier if the difference in rank was less obvious, and Smith was less skittish than she was. Alas, though...

"I have to, uh, be honest," squeaked the young woman with an awkward wave of her hands, "I... I let the servants cook up that soup. I'm really not the type of person to be cooking anything myself, if that makes... Much sense? I know it's cheating, but..." Her voice cut itself off into a pitiful whimper while she took a step back and expected... Something. Retaliation, perhaps? The other party's excalibur did look pretty intimidating, after all; there were rumors that its blade could cut through pretty much anything, and a young woman who had basically cheated her way into winning a cook-off was likely no exception!

So, poor Smith sucked in a breath and awaited for the worst-

She had squeezed her eyes shut and balled her hands into fists while waiting for the fatal blow, then just... Suddenly relaxed herself as if nothing was going to happen. Huh. That was kind of anticlimactic. Smith could still feel her heart fluttering in her chest while she glanced over at where the silver spoon lay, then at her opponent's dish. Maybe it dawned upon her in that moment that the queen, even if she did wear a title that retained its majesty even after her region considered monarchies obsolete, wasn't really... That much of a threat? As long as Smith didn't do anything blatantly offensive to the golem, she was... Fine, right? Smith chewed on her lip, apparently that fucking dumbfounded by her own realization.

Well then... I might as well say something to break the silence... Right? It's just a cooking competition. There's no need to take it so seriously, even if you did... Cheat...

Fluttering her lashes, the young woman wrung her hands together while now proposing, "But... Well... If you don't mind that, maybe I can introduce you to the chefs? They're genuinely talented people, and I'd really hate to take the credit for something that they did... Maybe they could be of use to you someday when their tenure to me expires!" She laughed ever so carefully, given that discussing a servant's employment was a bit taboo except with socioeconomic equals. Oops! (To be fair, though, Smith was always seen as a bit deviant...) Smith thus gestured a hand towards the kitchen door, as if to further encourage the idea.

"Again, I do apologize for the hassle," Smith sighed while rubbing the back of her neck and still brandishing her sheepish grin, "but I hope this makes it up for you? I mean..." She coughed lightly into her sleeve, granting a slight break to her otherwise painfully awkward attempt at lightening up the atmosphere. "... I know how much making food look good, as well as just making it, is valued as a creative endeavor... Something like that... Just..." She started to inch slightly towards the kitchen door gestured at earlier. "... Give me a moment while I see if the cooks who made the meal for me are around? I don't know when the shift changes are, since that's kind of something my husband usually does... Maybe you should meet him too, if you have the time!" Or don't. He sucks.

@ NP: Smith is.... pretty much a pacifist. she'd cry if you punch her once. so... if you don't want to go for a totally one-sided beatdown (as she wouldn't reeeeaaaally use her team unless absolutely necessary), you're probably best off going for something nonviolent - such as a cooking competition, or a fashion show!!

you can opt for post-hospice Smith if you reeeeaaaally want to, but please lmk if that's the case so that I can respond appropriately!! she's still very much pacifistic like her default version, just way more dependent on an aide due to her condition. u_u

I may also do a follow-up for NP if I have the time- u_u

kafkaesque Revive time!

„Well, it looks like you have been bested this time,” the fairy stated with a slightly smug expression, as she was presenting the multi-layer cake she had made.

As Titania’s assistant, it was her responsibility to avenge the queen after she had suffered a humiliating defeat at the human’s hands. Actually, it was nothing so dramatic, just a curious fairy wanting to try something new. So, she challenged Smith to a bake-off and started studying different recipes. The result turned out quite impressive, with Megido having come up with her own original recipe.

Trying out some of the cake her opponent had produced, she said, “Good effort though! You are quite good at this.” She asked, “Did your servants help you with this? Not that that would be a problem, I did mention outside help was allowed after all.”

Finishing her plate, Megido stood up and said, “Anyway, this has been a lot of fun. I do not get a lot of opportunities to cook at the palace, but I am interested in learning more. So, would you mind if we did some cooking, or baking, together, at a later date?”

NP: Megido doesn’t use her nukes at less then 1km distance, so those shouldn’t be a problem. She’s not very aggressive, but if you do want to physically fight her, she’s not super strong. She does have a submachinegun, but only if she expects to get into a fight.

For non-violent options, she’s pretty good at a lot of things, but maybe not as good as your OC. But absolutely cannot sing or dance or play any instrument.

After performing a series of stiff movements that vaguely resembled a dance, Megido was forced to admit defeat. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh, before returning to her usual expression. She said, “Well, I suppose you could say that I am part of the upper class, but I am a mechanic at heart. Instead of learning the newest fad dance, I would rather build an OPOC engine. I am not interested in parties.” While looking to the side, she added, “Although, sometimes Titania drags me along with her when she has to attend one…”

“It is important,” the fairy offered, “but it is not the only thing that mattered.” She explained, “People like you and me perform best if we prioritize the pursuit of intelligence, but others, like your wife and my queen, need to be able to communicate better. It all depends on the ‘role’ we play.”

She was a little surprised by Rochester’s next statement, asking, “But you are quite intelligent, are you not? Besides, in your case, learning how to move well with that prosthetic of yours seems like a worthwhile use of your time.” Briefly fluttering her six wings, she said, “If I am being honest, learning to move more elegantly could be of benefit to me as well. These wings are supposed to be quite useful, but I will crash if I try to do anything requiring more coordination then flying up and floating in place.”

Normally, learning to dance would not be interesting for Megido, but Rochester’s enthusiasm made her at least consider it. And answering questions about her weapon was also something she could do. She answered, “Yes, all of the high-ranking fairies serving Titania get custom weapons from her. I do not have it with me, but if you want, I can request it be sent here.”

“Hmm… would you mind if I tried to build a new one?” Megido asked, already having a design in mind, “If I can get Titania to help, I might be able to make build one that can connect to your nervous system, so you could move it just like a real foot.”

Rochester had her prosthetic foot propped up in her hand while remarking coolly, "You know, miss... I never understood why you were never the greatest at dancing. I heard that dancing was always a bit of a custom within the upper class. Dancing is half of the things the rich folk do at parties... I think." Said the one who had never been invited to an aristocratic party in her entire life. (Well, that ignored the fact that she didn't want to go to said parties in the first place, but... You know...)

"Still," she grunted while placing her prosthetic on the desk with a clunk, "I can at least respect you for focusing more on intelligence than on charms. I think people in general, especially women, should prioritize that... Yes?" She reached her fingers up to her hair so that she could comb through them. "So, I can respect that you are not much of a dancer. I would actually rather be a shitty dancer than a good one- Assuming that I happen to be decent at everything else, of course... I kind of wish I had more intelligence and less aptitude for dancing, but alas alas."

Way to sound like an ungrateful twat there, miss.

Still, there was... Actually no denying that the victory, as pleasurable as it was, didn't exactly make Rochester puff out her chest in pompous pride. She just continued to clean her prosthetic foot while humming to herself, as well as occasionally glancing over at the fire fairy just to see how she was reacting to the loss. Rochester didn't expect anything too adverse, but at the same time... She kept her arms tense. Just in case.

"I could technically teach you some moves if you want," suggested Rochester with a raised brow after placing the prosthetic foot down once more. She turned to face the fairy - fully this time - and regarded her with a surprisingly enthusiastic smile. Her voice, too, rung with enthusiasm while she proposed further, "But in all honesty, I would rather learn from you. You did mention that you had a submachine gun, right? I hope you are not too busy for a few questions about it from my part." Considering that Rochester sort of had a "brute" on her side...

Uhhh... Maybe there was an ulterior motive there somewhere?

After a short pause, the scientist couldn't help but chuff, "Besides, it's always pleasant to encounter other folks who are enthusiastic about technology, as well as learn about new things!", and gesture at the nearby prosthetic foot. "Not that I want a new foot, of course," teased a Rochester with a smooth smile, "but think of the respect that you could garner for yourself and your queen. I imagine the payoff to be potentially quite large now... Yes?"

@ NP: you can opt for her default version, which is written as being in her sixties, if you want, but lmk so that I can respond appropriately!!

either way, Rochester isn't much of a fighter, and she's more likely to rely on Beatrice or Spot when it comes to physical combat!! (even then, Spot doesn't attack unless it's a last resort, and his attacks are fairly weak.) if she's alone, she's basically fucked.

as for non-violent options, Rochester is experienced in most intellectual pursuits, especially biology!! she can also dance pretty well, but maaaaybe your character is better than her at that. who knows. she is, however, going to implode at deception checks, or trying to do housework. feel free to get creative if going for this route!!

NP maaaaaay also get a follow-up if I have the time!!

"I'm sorry" Flint never expected to be sent to assassinate this... old person. That was definitely unexpected, when they said that his mission was to eliminate a smart scientist, he expected someone who was running on caffeine and holding homemade explosives, ready to fight him. Instead it was this... old lady, Flint felt horrible, he had already drawn his swords.

The old lady, who he then learned was called Rochester, seemed pretty nice other then threatening him with, 'Wait till Beatrice gets here." Flint wasn't an idiot, he definitely wasn't going to wait for someone to come to any of his victims aid.

"Are you crazy?" Flint asks, his own heart beating quickly, this felt wrong. He's eliminated multiple people but a defenseless elderly person... that just seemed so much more wrong, but a job was a job. "I'm sorry," he repeated, then as he lifted his blades he added, "Nothing personal." He didn't want to hurt her, he really didn't, if anything he wanted to learn from her, the people who hired her called her smart, he wanted to learn, but no, that wasn't an option to his bosses.

---
@NP: Will try to follow up! Flint gets sensory overload pretty easily so you can use that to your advantage. You can also use his friends or backstory against him.

“I- I’ve been expecting you.” Talyn hums, turning to look to the newcomer, one longsword resting against her shoulder. By all typical accounts she wouldn’t have bothered the other assassin. It wasn’t really her style to do so without good reason. However, the Lord of this house had paid a considerable sum of money to be protected from an assassin attack that he knew was coming, so here she stood, laying in wait for the assassin.

Admittedly, she did not know as much about her foe as she would have liked. Only that he’s a skilled fighter, and that he wears that blindfold. She’d heard from a rather dubious informant that he used one’s own heat to identify where other being were, but she wasn’t sure about that little tidbit of information. He had, however, provided her with a name.

“Turn around Flint. I don’t want to hurt you, but I really can’t let you go any farther this evening... I’ve got my job to do here.” She raises her voice slightly, before grabbing the lantern that she’d brought with her and shattering it on the floor in between them both.

The carefully placed oil and small explosives she’d spent a considerable amount of time preparing, ignites creating what could only be described as a ring around them of intense heat and noise. Talyn jumps back to avoid getting too much into the many explosions that had erupted around her and Flint. At least the small plugs she’d crafted for the occasion kept her from the sound of the explosions, although the heat itself was pretty unbearable. If the intel was correct though, he would have a much tougher time telling where she was because of the heat. Something she only prayed was true.

Sprinting forward, Talyn slams the butt of her sword into Flint’s stomach, waiting for him to double over before kicking him in the head. Though it wasn’t hard enough to render him unconscious, she didn’t doubt that his world was spinning at the moment.

From his position on the ground, Talyn approaches and presses the still cool blade of her sword to the other man’s neck.

“As I said... you won’t be going any farther this evening.” Talyn growls before waving a hand over her head. The sounds of soldiers running about fills the room, buckets of water extinguishing her trap.

She almost felt bad for resorting to such tricks to win against her opponent, but her job was her job and she’d rather not discover why so many feared what was beneath the blindfold.

“If you value your life, come quietly and quickly. I will see what I can do to get you released with little harm done. After all, I’ve been in your shoes many a time... it would be unfair of me to leave you to the mercy of the courts here.” She hums before walking to the man’s side, and helping him to his feet, her sword now pressing gently into his back.

It just the way things are. It’s a shame that things weren’t different. Perhaps she would’ve been the one captured and not him. But at least today, she’s glad she came out on top.

~~~~~~~~~~

NP: Talyn is very dexterous, but not particularly strong, so she could probably be overpowered by another person stronger than her. Also if you mention her secrets or something similar she will probably fumble and make a mistake so use that to your advantage. You’re welcome to do more non-violent contests as well, although Talyn is fairly decent at cheating in gambling games... if you catch her though, she’s not too difficult to beat. Either way! Have fun! I will probably do a follow up for the next one!^^

"Well shoot." Andrea said, looking at Talyn, who was defeated by her. Despite Andrea winning, she still had bruises around her. "That was a fun challenge, but let's not do that again, I don't want to severely injure you." Andrea said, taking deep huffs of exhaustion. "Let me get you up and dust off in your clothing." Andrea offered, cleaning Talyn's clothing with her paws. "Let me take you somewhere safe, do you have relatives or anyone for me to place you at?" Andrea walked Talyn throughout the path.

hehehe

FOR NP: Andrea is usually strong but can be a weak stick if you easily overpower her, she will fight back but will just lie on the floor and give up lol. That is if you manage her horn jabs and hoof kicks (also bites grrr)

Beatrice raised her brow at the creature laying on the floor, limbs sticking up in the air, and grunted, "Well... That wasn't too climactic in the end, wasn't it?" She sniffed and glanced over her shoulder at the cup of tea that she had just poured for her guest. "If I knew that you were going to act like that as soon as I poured the cup, then I wouldn't have needed to lecture you the entire time." Yea. No kidding.

"But at the same time... That's on me. I can concede that. I should've been more understanding in that regard. My apologies."

Still, a slightly reprimanding tone brimmed much of her voice as she picked up the cup of sweetened tea and held it out for the other party to take... Then Beatrice paused. Wait a second. Her eyes skimmed the cup that she was currently holding out, then the hooves that were supposed to- Oh. And paws too. How could Beatrice forget that there were paws involved!? The journalist raised her brows before opting to set the cup down on a nearby table.

"Here's that cup of sweetened tea that you wanted, though if you want some condolences," Beatrice grunted while taking a step back and wringing her hands, "I sure hope that this is enough to keep you pacified anyhow, considering that..." Oh great. She was going to have to address the elephant in the room now... Wasn't she? The older woman sucked in a breath for a moment, then glanced over at the somewhat wrecked kitchen behind her. Though nothing was seriously damaged, she knew that it was going to take more than just an explanation to Rochester to clear things up.

Greeeeeaaaaaaaaaaat.

Her lip drawn back into a grimace, Beatrice then stepped off to the side and huffed, "... I need to spend the next few hours cleaning this mess up anyways. You weren't kidding when you claimed that you could cause a lot of damage if you were upset." Which was technically an understatement, now that Beatrice thought about it. For instance, the door could've been kicked in, and the vast majority of the kitchen of the fire could've been on fire... But alas, debris was still debris, and Beatrice nudged it off to the side with her foot before stepping towards the hallway.

"So yes, I'll apologize for being a bit harsh. Property damage is still property damage, though. If you need any tea, then let me know. Just don't wreck anything while I'm busy, and I won't have to call animal control. Got it?"

@ NP: Beatrice is buff, but that doesn't mean she's invincible or particularly strong by any means!! she's still old and might end up being overpowered by a younger character if they're strong enough, and she doesn't have much when it comes to addressing people with powers.

if you don't want to beat the shit out of her, then Beatrice is TERRIBLE at singing!! she also isn't going to win a calligraphy contest anytime soon with her shitty handwriting..... go creative, really! I want you to destroy her.

I'll also try my best to do a follow-up for NP if I have the time!!

“You still have a lot to learn,” Sine told the young dragon, as she pinned her to the ground with her rear claw. Releasing Oshi and reaching out her front claw to help her up, she said, “If you want to become a better fighter, you need to improve your technique, and make better use of your natural weapons.”

“Your tail, for example,” she held her own long, slimy tail before her to demonstrate, “it can be a powerful weapon. You can escape from almost any hold, by striking your opponent with it.” She swung her tail, smashing through a nearby tree.

She said, “Your fire too, you should train to get better control of it’s temperature.” She demonstrated by incinerating the fallen tree, first with a dim flame that barely set it on fire, before changing to an intense flame that instantly turned the remaining wood into ashes. “Also, are you eating enough?” she asked, concerned for the younger dragon’s health, “Better nutrition may help you produce a hotter flame. I know vegetables don’t taste good, but they’re good for you, you should eat more of them.”

“But your biggest weakness is your altitude,” the half-dragon explained, “In an aerial fight, maneuverability is everything; If your opponent can fly higher then you, they’ll always have an advantage. Your dives would be a lot more threatening too, if you had time to reach terminal velocity before reaching the ground.” She offered, “If you want, we could train a little together.”

@NP: Sine is a nightmare to fight, but she goes down somewhat quickly if you can land some good hits against her, despite her evasiveness. She does technically always get back up, but she usually stops fighting after dying once.

For non violent option, she's pretty talented at things other then singing, but not the best. Her memory issues also make her literally the worst at trivia.

Once more the nightmare queen fell victim to Mary Sue. Responding to her assailants mockery, she said, “Your magic is strong, I’ll give you that, but the real reason you won is because of your plot armor.”

Leaching some more power from her divine sister, Sine got up again as her body became a little more dragon-like. Splitting her wings into many menacing spikes, she said, “How about another round? Let’s see how you deal with my nightmares when we’re off screen…”

"Ahuhuhuh~" Mary laughed, as she watched Sine land on the ground. "Was it too much for you, huh?" She checked her fingernails. "Was my magic too much for you?" Placing her hands on her hips, she got up in Sines face. Rude. Her eyes turned orange as she began to laugh even more. As Sine began to get up, Mary slowly backed up, a bit scared of what they were going to do next.

"Ready for round two, huh?" Mary cracked her knuckles, ready for whatever was going to be thrown at her. Maybe her ego had gotten a bit bigger since their battle a bit ago.

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Mary is most likely to go down in a battle if her powers are used against her 😔 if you're writing a non battle, she's not the best at card games. Yes, card games.