- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Online Availability
- 3pm - 1am (GMT / BST)
- Writing Levels
- Beginner
- Elementary
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Transgender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Monsters, supernatural, fantasy, romance, criminality, slice-of-life (modern or set in past, usually with some twists)
"My petty little war?" She repeated in evident shock. Despite the drunkenness, evident by her slurred words and inability to sit still without swaying a tad, the words and the rudeness she felt came with them wasn't lost on her. She didn't care for the boy at all, hence her disinterest in whether he got punished or not when she used Lysander's girlfriend against him to expose a weak point, but the fact Neotoma himself believed he was owed some sort of favour from her was astonishing.
In her eyes, she was the Queen and he was a mere servant. If she wanted to throw him under the bus, then she ought to be able to do so, given how utterly inconsequential he was to her. She could have anyone sent in to gather information; someone she now had no doubt would be doing a far better job than Neotoma, whose basic, limited information was truly starting to anger the woman more than she liked to admit.
"I really do think that the arrogance of these vile monsters is rubbing off on you. Remember your place, boy. You are here to do a mission for me. If I want to use what you have told me against Lysander, I reserve the right to do so as your Queen. You serve me; not that monster. Is that understood?" She hissed under her breath, green eyes glinting angrily in the relative dimness of the tavern. Only when her third drink arrived did she ease away and let the bubbling tension rest, taking a sip from her glass with an unsubtle purr at the taste.
If there was one thing she liked about this kingdom, it was the alcohol. That alone was worth the trip.
"...Anything else you can tell me or has my trip been an absurd waste of my time, boy?"
In her eyes, she was the Queen and he was a mere servant. If she wanted to throw him under the bus, then she ought to be able to do so, given how utterly inconsequential he was to her. She could have anyone sent in to gather information; someone she now had no doubt would be doing a far better job than Neotoma, whose basic, limited information was truly starting to anger the woman more than she liked to admit.
"I really do think that the arrogance of these vile monsters is rubbing off on you. Remember your place, boy. You are here to do a mission for me. If I want to use what you have told me against Lysander, I reserve the right to do so as your Queen. You serve me; not that monster. Is that understood?" She hissed under her breath, green eyes glinting angrily in the relative dimness of the tavern. Only when her third drink arrived did she ease away and let the bubbling tension rest, taking a sip from her glass with an unsubtle purr at the taste.
If there was one thing she liked about this kingdom, it was the alcohol. That alone was worth the trip.
"...Anything else you can tell me or has my trip been an absurd waste of my time, boy?"