forum Closed OxO with Serpentess (Content warning, unsuited forr staalking if you have any major aversion to gore, violence and fantasy racism)

Started December 16, 2022 by @WIngs-of-Silver

tune

@Serpentess I will get up my sheet later.

(Okay, I had a free moment, so here he is, lol)

---

(The sheet will be very detailed for the purposes of the roleplay. All the information here will be used at some point.)

Old Name: Alice (no surname)

New Name: Petra Blood

Age: 24 (430 in demon years)

Sexuality: Herosexual

Appearance:

Height: 6'2" (1.9 meters)
Weight: 120~ lbs (54.4311 kilograms)

Personality: Petra used to be a very quiet and soft child, incapable of hurting even a roach. She used to be very kind to everyone. Now she is violent and brutal, though the quiet part has not exactly changed. She is very capable of fucking your shit up. She also hates people who avoid direct questions, confrontations and statements, and people whose bullshit exceeds her bullshit tolerance meter.

Powers: Sanguimancy, umbramancy, necromancy, telepathy, telekinesis, pyrokinesis, cerebromancy, pathomancy, chronomancy, spatial manipulation, true immortality, eternal youth, polymorphy /// proficient with broadswords, greatswords, shortswords, longswords, rapiers, falchions, scythes, sickles, daggers, knives and shurikens.

Backstory: Petra was born to a poor farmer's family, and at age 9, she ran away so her parents would be less stressed. About a year later, she met On'nyosh, and becomes fast friends. 4 years later, she is supposedly killed; in reality, she is turned into a demon and brought to hell.

Other: Intolerant of any indirect or insincere approaches to fights or arguments. Also intolerant of elves, arachnes and the fey. Semi-okay with humans. Okay with dwarves, orcs and ogres. Indifferent towards all other races.

Petra stalks down the road, her strange clothes and menacing features attracting the attention of the passers by in the bustling city, her cigarette burning like a dull jewel.

Her crimson eyes flick from stall to stall, person to person, examining each with general disinterest.

She curls her lip in disgust after passing an alley.

She could tolerate the personalities of the humans. In that regard, she was fine with them.

No, it was the stench they produced that was intolerable, like rotten eggs and sickness.

She stops for a moment, spotting a strange flash of scales in the crowd, then shakes her head.

I doubt he's anywhere nearby the city anymore. After all, it's been quite a while. she thinks, taking a deep drag of her cigarette before tossing it to the cobblestones and stomping it out with a heavy soled black leather boot.

However, she still heads that direction.

(Sorry about taking so long to reply. Had a busy day)
(And, also, sorry about the length, lol)

---

“Pick a card. I dare you.”

With his typical mischievous grin, Ōn’nyosh held out the fan of cards toward a curious passerby. The individual was a young man, slightly shorter than Ōn’nyosh, and seemingly far more bashful.

“I don’t know…”

“Come on. I’ll make you a deal. If you can find an Ace in these cards, I’ll give you ten gold coins. If you find a Joker, you give me ten gold coins. Otherwise, any other card is purely for fun,”Ōn’nyosh coaxed.

The man thought about it for a moment, then nodded and chose a card. It was a Joker. The man’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Mind if I try again?”he asked.

Ōn’nyosh hummed,”Alright. I’ll be generous, but only this once. Pick again.”

The youth did so. Another Joker. This time, the young man’s face became suspicious.

“Is your whole deck full of Jokers?”

“I don’t know. Want to pick another card?”

“No. Not until you prove that this isn’t a trick,”the youth said.

Ōn’nyosh rose an eyebrow.

“Seriously? I’m a fucking jester, you dumbass! When am I not performing a trick?”

The man straightened immediately, glaring.

“You owe me ten gold coins, by the way,”Ōn’nyosh mentioned.

“No! You tried to cheat it out of me with a fake deck!”

“It’s not a fake deck if I made it from a bunch of other decks.”

The man snarled and abruptly decked him, then threw the two cards at him and left. Ōn’nyosh laid on the ground a second, a bit dazed, then sat up with a grunt. A moment later, he spit out a tooth, then stared at it for a moment.

“That guy needs a dose of humor in his life,”he said with a sigh.

Then, in such a casual way, Ōn’nyosh reached into his nearby bag, pulled out a small bottle, and drank its contents. A few moments later, his mouth magically healed. He wiped the blood off his face, discarded the bottle, and gathered up his cards. Then, he realized his hat had fallen off.

“Shit!”

Ōn’nyosh quickly looked around, sighing in relief when it was simply behind him. He picked his hat up, dusted it off, and set it back on his head. Then, he nimbly stood up and resumed daring passerby to pick a card.

(It is okay, I understand.)
(It is fine; my response lengths are a bit erratic.)

---

Petra makes her way to where she'd seen those scales.

Where the scales were, she finds a jester holding a deck of cards, clothes ruffled.

He'd obviously been punched recently.

She decides to test her luck.

"So, I assume the gist of this is to pull a certain card to earn money, right?" she asks. Her voice was deep, flat and overall unimpressed with the jester's flamboyant clothes and attitude.

She understood these tricks well; usually, she'd ignore these sorts of people - they danced around confrontation like nobody else could and were very, very greedy.

"And assuming that is the trick, I suppose I'll need to pull a rarer card like an ace to win." she thinks aloud.

(Yeah, pretty much the same here, lol)

---

Ōn’nyosh hadn’t had any luck catching someone’s attention, until he saw a demonic woman approaching him. He quickly noticed that she had been heading directly for him, instead of pausing while on some other journey. That made him curious, and her hellish appearance only made that curiosity grow. He liked the exotic folk.

“Indeed. Pull an Ace, and you get ten gold coins. Pull a Joker, and I get ten gold coins. All other cards are just for fun,”Ōn’nyosh explained casually.

Her tone gave away that she was already familiar with this trick, so he had suspicions that she would either call him on it or attack him. It wouldn’t be the first time, or the last, but it was worth a try, even if only to open a conversation with her.

“Give it a try. And, I’ll make you a deal. If you pull a Joker on your first try, it’s free,”he encouraged, his tone a little softer, less rehearsed and more natural.

(As well as times, as of now.)

---

"Ten? For a rarer card like an ace? How about we raise the stakes. 13 plus the loser's name, and a short meet-up at an inn." she smirks. She had him figured out already, from the way he talked.

"No, I don't need a free attempt; ruins the point of my deal, no?" she chuckles, the sound gravelly and honestly painful sounding.

(Yeah, I’ve had a busy weekend)

---

His eyebrow rose in surprise. Not very often was Ōn’nyosh surprised, given his worldly nature, but this woman had done it. She was becoming more intriguing by the second.

“Hmm… How about twenty coins, plus the loser’s name and a short meet-up at the inn where I’m staying?”he asked with his mischievous grin, well aware that he might be daring her a bit too much, and not really caring.

Her next words made his grow grow wider. And, by the sound of her chuckle, he was beginning to suspect that this woman was no half-demon like he usually saw. She was more likely a full-blooded demon. Not many true demons wandered around in full view of the world, which made her quite the curiosity.

“Alright. No free attempt,”he replied.

"Drop it to sixteen, and it's a deal." Petra laughs slightly, a grating sound like stone upon steel.

Staring the jester in his reptilian eyes, she slowly takes a card and flips it: Ace of Hearts.

"Well, too bad for you." she grins, the card disappearing in a flash of black ash and smoke, a cigarette appearing in its place, already lit.

She takes a draw from it, then blows out the greyish-blue smoke in a claw shape.

"So, what's your name, where's the money, and what inn are we going to?" she asks.

Ōn’nyosh chuckled, intrigued by her strange laugh.

“Alright. Sixteen gold coins.”

He kept his eyes locked with hers until she pulled the card out. Upon seeing the Ace, he knew magic was involved. His suspicions were confirmed when that card vanished and was replaced by a cigarette. The smoke she blew didn’t bother him at all, considering the numerous taverns he often frequented, and he appreciated the shape it took.

“I’m pretty sure you already knew there was no Aces in the deck. But, I don’t mind the show, and I’m rather intrigued by your choice of suit. The Ace of Hearts, from a dark, demonic woman. That reveals depth, and I do so enjoy meeting a woman of depth, especially a dark one,”he commented, casually folding his ‘fan’ of cards and putting them in a hidden pocket of his shirt.

At her question, he took a step back, removed his hat, and bowed deeply. His long braid of sliver hair flopped forward, then easily swung back as he straightened with a flourish.

“The name’s Ōn’nyosh. I’m a renown jester, though I’ve haven’t been to this particular location in… fucking years, and I just wanted to peek around for a moment. The inn is nearby, a nice little place called the Lucky Dragon. And, the money…”

Ōn’nyosh moved over to his satchel and dug around in it for a moment. He pulled out a small, but fat, coin pouch and counted sixteen gold coins from it, then put the pouch back in his satchel. Afterward, he grabbed his satchel and returned to her with her payment.

“As promised. Sixteen gold coins. And now, I shall show you the inn,”Ōn’nyosh said.

He double-checked his surroundings to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, then turned and headed off in the direction of the inn. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder to check if she was following.

"Oh, flattery won't get you out of paying," Petra says, though her words were light and amused. "Though you are right about being demonic. After all, where else would one get these scars?"

She pulls down her jacket, revealing curved scars all across her chest and shoulders.

After letting On'nyosh get a good look at the scars, she shrugs her jacket back on, then takes another drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a few rings.

Hearing the lizardman's name was. . . strange.

She'd known him, at one point. Clearly, he'd changed a lot - his colors were not that vibrant when they'd first met.

But she keeps this to herself, deciding to just not mention her previous self. After all, it was unlikely that he'd remember the girl he'd befriended all those years ago.

"The Lucky Dragon? Last time I checked, that was just a hole-in-the-wall tavern. It's a full blown inn now?" she asks, bemused.

“Who said I was trying to flatter you? I have no problems with paying you, and I was being completely honest,”Ōn’nyosh replied, his expression playful but sincere.

He paused when she pulled down her jacket, mesmerized by the sight. She had beautiful features, and the scars, in their own way, added to her beauty. Also, her boldness in exposing her skin and scars fascinated him. He had no words when she covered her shoulders again.

Ōn’nyosh laughed in amusement at her words.

“It is indeed! And, it’s a good inn too, particularly since it still has a bar,”he said, still laughing.

After a few minutes of walking, they got to the Lucky Dragon. The first floor was the original building, and the second floor appeared to be newly built.

Ōn’nyosh casually walked in, receiving a cheer from the bartender and several folks at the bar. Ōn’nyosh laughed and waved at them. He then turned to the demonic woman.

“Alright. So, do you want to sit down in here, or head up to my room? I don’t mind either way,”he asked.

"Mm-hmmm. If you weren't trying to flatter me, I'm not a demon." Petra snorts.

"And you've probably noticed that my face is. . . less than whole." she adds, shifting her wild hair to reveal the jagged cracks that had been caused by a high power holy spell. The cracks looked painful, and pulsed with a strange black light.

"Strange. Is Dreevus still running the place, or did the old geezer finally rot his liver out with alcohol?" she snickers.

She notes the cheers that the jester is given, then the apprehensive and appreciative looks the patrons give her.

As soon as she looks at the bartender, she knew right away that yes, Dreevus was still alive and kicking.

"Hey, Dreevus. You look like horsepiss." she cackles before turning back to On'nyosh.

"Bit soon to be taking me to bed, don't you think? At least get a few drinks in me before you try anything." Petra grins, revealing slightly pointed teeth and very acute incisors, designed for tearing flesh and releasing blood from veins.

Ōn’nyosh burst into laughter at her words. He quickly composed himself, though. And, he was glad to have his suspicions confirmed that she was a true demon. That just fascinated him more.

“Alright. I’ll admit I do use a fuck ton of flattery, but I am being honest when I say I appreciate a dark woman of depth. Such women are usually the most genuine… or, in the case of the not-so-genuine ones, the most exciting,”Ōn’nyosh insisted.

He gazed at the cracks, his eyes widening slightly. He didn’t need to be told that they had come from a powerful spell. It was obvious. But, just like her scars, it somehow seemed to contribute to her beauty. After all, what were scars if not a sign of strength and worldliness?

“Damn.”

Ōn’nyosh shrugged,”I believe so, though I may be thinking someone else.”

At her comment to the bartender, Ōn’nyosh snickered. So, he had been thinking of the same person, he just hadn’t been sure.

Ōn’nyosh exploded into a fit of laughter.

“Damn, Madam of the Blunt! I’m fast, but not that fucking fast! But, besides that, I have my own stash of alcohol upstairs, partly supplied by these fucking drunkards,”he replied, trying to compose himself.

Though, as he stared at her, at her grin, his eyes were drawn to her incisors, those… lovely, lovely fangs… Ōn’nyosh snickered as his thoughts started to roam, then quickly cleared his throat.

"It's a lot more than a fuck ton, but regardless, I do have depth. And I am a demon, so genuine? Not so much." Petra snickers.

"I am, yes." she smirks.

"Y'know, short stature, hair that looks like a pigeon shit on his head, eyebrows that look like a caterpillar made its home there. . .?" she chuckles.

"'Madam of the Blunt,' eh? Sorry, but this is a cigarette, not a blunt." she jokes. "And I don't ofren deal withother sorts of blunts, either."

Petra raises an eyebrow. "Masochistic little shit. What you were just thinking was written all over your face."

Ōn’nyosh snickered and shrugged nonchalantly at her comment about his use of flattery. Then, he grinned.

“Maybe not genuine, but definitely exciting,”Ōn’nyosh commented.

He chuckled,“I get that, but I was referring to the cracks. Fucking shit. Did you castrate the shiny bastard that did that to you? I hope you did. Any fucking Sir Bitch that hits a woman needs to be castrated.”

“Oh, him! Yeah, he’s still there. I visit too many fucking taverns. The bartenders start to blend together after a while,”he said half-jokingly.

Ōn’nyosh snickered at her joke, but couldn’t resist a counter.

“Madam, your words are more blunt than a bag of fucking warhammers falling on a dwarf’s head.”

His eyes widened a bit in surprise, then he burst into a raucous fit of laughter. He even had to grab his hat to keep it from falling off as he doubled over

“Fucking shit! No one, and I mean no one, has ever called me out on that! Particularly after only… ten, fifteen, minutes of knowing me? By the idiot gods, I don’t know what to say. I truly don’t! Except, of course, that it’s true, and I don’t give a shit who knows it,”Ōn’nyosh finally replied, still laughing.

"Knowing what I know of you just from your speech, it's definitely exciting to be around me." Petra snorts.

"I didn't castrate him. . . but if you would like a demonstration of what I did do, I'd be happy to oblige." she snickers.

"Normally I'd say the same, but this place holds some. . . interesting memories for me." she chuckles.

"No, not quite right. My words are more subtle, like. . . a hellhound made of adamantite being launched at high speeds from one of hell's cannons to tear a hole in your left arsecheek." she snorts.

"Well, get used to it. Your thoughts are very open. It's like reading a book." Petra clucks playfully.

Ōn’nyosh snickered,”Well, you do have an air about you that just radiates with morbid mystery. I love a good morbid mystery.”

He shrugged noncommittally.

“As long as you, at the very least, maimed the fucker pretty good, I’m happy. Though, if I had to guess, the shiny prick won’t be shooting any spells ever again, whether he still lives or not,”he replied with a chuckle.

“Do I dare ask? Or is that a tale for later?”Ōn’nyosh asked.

At her description, he burst into laughter once more.

“I fucking love that!”

He rose an eyebrow, intrigued by her words.

“Is that telepathy you’re hinting at? I see things just got a lot more interesting now. And, trust me, there’s more to my mind than just a few meager pages of hints and tricks. The deeper you go, the more… exotic things get, and the less likely you’ll want to surface,”Ōn’nyosh cooed, his gaze intense, inviting.

Petra smirks. "Hm. I probably won't be mysterious for long."

"I did, though it ended with him dead - though not for very long." she laughs slightly.

"I'll be blunt with you - if I tell you the story, you won't believe it. I'll let you get to know me before I give you my life story." she chuckles, taking another puff of her cigarette.

"You love any form of complicated and slightly funny wordplay that can match up to yours." she drawls, raising an eyebrow.

"Mmmm. . . there's depths there, for sure, though to say it's exotic is an overstatement. I see figures like them daily. Hell, I think I may have killed a couple of them at one point. As for not wanting to surface, well. . ." she smiles darkly, her mind enveloping On'nyosh's in a blanket of roiling, velvety crimson darkness for a moment, sifting through his mind roughly for a moment before withdrawing.. ". . . it can't hold a candle to my mind."

Ōn’nyosh just snickered in reply. He then burst into laughter at her description.

“You’d be surprised the things I’ve seen and done. So, don’t think a strange tale is going to faze me,”he said with an amused snort.

Ōn’nyosh paused, a bit caught off guard by her retort. He then shrugged, snickering.

“Well, you’re not wrong, to be honest. But, that was still fucking good,”he conceded.

Ōn’nyosh opened his mouth to argue, but he immediately closed it when he felt the sheer force of her mind invading his. An involuntary shiver coursed through him, and when her mind withdrew, he had to take a quick deep breath to calm himself.

“Fuck… I… um… I may have used the wrong word. ‘Exotic’ is a bit too vague to describe my perverted nature. But… Damn…”he stammered, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

He sat there for a moment, simply trying to process what had just happened to him. And, also trying to hide how much of a thrill it had been. Then, he cleared his throat, looking up at Petra again.

“I may ask you to do that again, later,”he said quietly, so only she could hear him. He then started snickering.