Quitecontrary

Scholar - Hurt you, then heal you. Repeat.

Princess Delightful, I have not visited your halls in quite some time. It is definitely NOT my cooking that you have been partaking.

Perfect for the early casualties. Madame Quismet stared out into the sea through the windows of The Eye of the Storm tavern. Business was not doing well. After a decade of running the drinking place, keeping a steady supply of food, wine, song and entertainment to those who dock on the Telmont port, Quismet has started to see a decline in patronage. She doesn't want to speculate, but deep inside, she thinks the presence of Skybreakers may be causing it. Townsfolk are just too wary to be merry these days. And there are not enough new faces! Not enough new ships. She may have to downsize soon, let go of some of her girls. Maybe even pack up, leave this town and move somewhere else. It's a good thing she's got enough saved for just this stormy day. Quismet smiled that signature smile as she saw a new boat come in. And a new face on the street. Hmm, maybe this town is not a total waste, after all. The voluptuous black-haired woman turned to the counter to one of her most reliable girls. "Rishi!!! Get me a glass of wine, will you?" As the sun went down, she thought to herself that tomorrow is the start of a new day. Maybe, just maybe, her business can still be saved.

Be still, my heart. I wouldn't share the pleasure of killing Scholars with Nightblood. My hands are clean, Panda. The food is clean. Don't worry over much about it. Besides, all I will ever serve you are bamboo shoots and pandan-flavored waffles.

Child, you eat whatever is offered by your Newcagoans, regardless of how it looks like, or what it tastes like. Also, I don't think you would ever say anything bad to your staunchest supporter. The Scholar stands by you and answers your questions regardless of what kind it is. But book rice? Studious spaghetti? Seriously? This made me laugh imagining a Panda, in class, chewing paper, daydreaming of bamboos.

Scholar, your food is lousy regardless. Dry and tasteless. Like pages of books (not that I've tasted paper.) My schedule has not made it possible to really take advantage of your slavery, but at least I've got my Nemesis back. I'd like a chance at hurting you again.

Torture with me. Then. Cook with me.

All I can say is that I'm happy you're free. You're a bad slave.

I'm still participating. Sorry everyone. My tour has been crazy. But I want to write here again, considering I just got killed in the elimination game so I need an RP fix.

Done! Pinned!

Welcome Curiosity! We usually just drop by here for a little bit of nonRP discussion in the social forums. The meme wars are getting crazy and I'm glad you necroed this thread. How IS Chaos? I haven't seen him here either.

I'm currently packing and preparing for a flight to an event. Will RP a little later when I'm done with this and cast my vote. I do agree though that we should not lose sight of the real goal which is Nobles vs. Skaa. The docs are all good, but will only fuel what the skaa knows if they are in our Houses.

Quitty calmly waited for the messenger to arrive. She knew who he is, and she hated that she had to wait for him in an empty table looking terribly conspicuous. It was not how she preferred to deal, or even to receive information. If it was up to her, she'd have waited till the dance. But what's done is done. Unfortunately, a man sat down across from her looking like he was about to make conversation. He was the man she saw playing some cards and patrolling the ballroom edges like a hazekiller guard. She turned to her drink and decided to ignore him, for now. The messenger would have to find another way to contact her, or get rid of this fellow.

Pompous, odious, gaudy creep. she thought as the Urbain boy went to meet his steward who at that point was holding a bright orange shirt. She stifled a laugh. She thought that he couldn't look much worse than how he already did, but apparently, his genius of a steward could pull off this impossibility. He must either be color-blind, poor or cutoff, or at the mercy of someone's charity. Quitania, or Quitty as she is fondly called by her friends, decided to follow the Raisaal girl. Had she changed so much from being in the company of Elariels that Cadri had forgotten her? Her scar started to itch, but she prevented herself from scratching it. At one and twenty, Quitty had seen far too much, changed far too often, and adjusted to three different house colors in her lifetime. But her situation was precarious right now, claiming widowhood for protection. She was thankful for her son, who sealed her claim to a portion of Elariel fortune, but her ambitions made her restless. Rana, her steward, came in to whisper something to her. Quitty nodded, stood up and walked to an empty table to wait for the messenger. Fun can wait. Business before revelry. An open invitation to whoever wants to take up that seat in the empty table.

Creepy cupcake lady? Who, me? *wide-eyed*

Really now, Quiv, you want to challenge the Champion of the breakfast of champions? And was that your dog? You may find yourself bitten one of these days. On the Wafflerasium, you can deny it, Quiv, but one day you will succumb to the waffle. Muffins are all fine. But really, they will never compare.

How charming. House Raisaal never disappoints, sending their seemingly innocent relative. Oh, how she misses that house so! She hid her smile behind her fan and followed Cadri with her eyes as she walked towards the Urbain fop. This is what she loved about these parties - the intrigue, the play on words, the Game...and the cut direct. She listened to the Urbain boy's attempt at a cut and an insult, and almost laughed. What an amateur! Of all the people to cross, Raisaal was one of the most dangerous. She should know. She caught Cadri's eyes and smiled. The girl is fierce, and when Quitania was in that house married to the Raisaal boy of her dreams, received quite a number of wounds and bruises from her practice fights with Cadri. And the girl was younger then. She rubbed her shoulder where a scar ran from her left shoulder down to her elbow that she needed to hide through clever fashion design. Everyone thought Quitania's tastes for one shoulder gowns was just a fashion preference. They didn't know that the sleeved left part of the gown was necessary to hide the ugly scar from the wound that Cadri gave her. Curiously though, her departed husbands loved that scar. It was a mark of survival. She knew that Cadri needed no defense, but she stood up and approached the Urbain boy anyway. It was time to join the fray. "My dear Lord Urbain, what a pleasure to see you here.", she said with a practiced twinkle in her eye, a flourish of her wrist, and a small nod. The boy definitely did NOT deserve a curtsy. "I see that many of the people you've spoken to have not managed to adhere themselves to your charming demeanor for long. They must be quite immune to it. Or perhaps, they fear your charm may make them reveal something they would otherwise not?" Her eyes smiled as she said this, and kept fanning herself slowly. "As for me, I would like the pleasure of your company, if you will permit it. I would normally be happy staying where I was, but we are young! Where is the fun in that?" She waited for him to insult her, as was his wont. But one never knows. Maybe he will say yes.

Quiver, I am giving you one chance to take this dueling challenge back. Else, the Wafflerasium in your blood will get activated. We have been feeding these to you for quite some time now, through the Turncloak Waffles made especially for you. If this is activated, you may very well turn out to be another Quiteleftinch. A Quivercontrary.

Well, when the party lasts all night, and I go home at 11am, it sure is a blast! Thanks for hosting, skaa! (That sounded a little weird, a skaa hosting a party. )

Quitesworn Panda. But he has to ingest Wafflerasium.

Great game and very nice writeup, Gamma! I can't believe I survived my first elimination game!

As with recipes...the best recipe doesn't create the best food. Peeking at the files doesn't mean divining their meaning. They may mean something totally different.

I remember you shipped yourself with Jack Frost already, Child. Jelsa, I believe.

Changing my name to Quitania Elariel née Raisaal, to give way to Shiv's usage of his created House name. Shiv, I hope you don't mind me pushing the Raisaal as a maiden name instead. GM, I'll modify the RP to represent my house colors.

It amuses me how fast people jump to shipping these days. Granted, QuiteInch is technically not a ship. We have been at odds even before QuiteChaos came to being. I don't think having a nemesis qualifies as a ship, nor is having a slave.