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Mismeia stepped forward, "If it's okay with everyone, I'll volunteer to go with Margaret. I've been around the dead long enough to know which signs to look for. Not to mention, and if something does go wrong... Well, there is strength in numbers. Or pairs, in this situation."
Mismeia trudged forward a tiny bit, glancing at the strange, slouched man before gently clearing her throat. "If it's no trouble, may... may I take a look at the bodies personally? I might be able to do something." Mismeia asked the mortician, blinking her gold and violet eyes. She didn't bother putting on some gloves or anything akin to that.
Mismeia let out a gentle sigh once the attention was brought upon her. She craned her head, glancing at the Halfling for a moment in total silence. Her eyes then rolled toward Freyja, once she practically spoke for her. Mismeia gently leaned back into her seat. "I will accompany you five." She stated plainly. She glanced back and forth as Mira and Freyja argued over the assumed leadership. If it were up to her, she would definitely take the assumed role of leader. Though, that was merely her ego speaking. Of course, none of those around her had any true experience with the Afterlife and Undeath. They may have fought them, or studied them, but it was only she who knew. Of course, objecting with that argument would likely get her yelled at, at best, so she kept her mouth shut.
Mismeia had been silent for the entire conversation, simply lost in her thoughts as well as mentally inspecting her companions. The mention of them fighting the Undead did worry her a tad bit, but she wouldn't be called in for this sort of job if her employers wanted her dead... right? The doubt in her mind spiraled. Thoughts of being kicked out, or even killed, raced her. No doubt it was caused by him, however. He always liked doing this to her, even if it would hurt her more than it would help. That was simply his nature. And she simply had to deal with it. The Tiefling eyed the other's for a little while, her attention toward the employers slowly waning. They'll come for you when you sleep. You can't let them take that chance. Of course, the paranoia that was instilled into her barely affected her. It was annoying, though. But still. She managed to listen in mid-conversation, piecing together what she had missed while she wasn't paying attention. She blinked a little bit, simply staying silent as she let the other's talk, idly flicking her forked tongue out once in a while.
Mismeia fluttered her eyes softly, darting around each person as they made their introductions. Her tongue idly flickered in and out of her mouth, forked. Mira, Keleni, Freyja, Margaret, and Shiro. They'd all be her companions for what the letter was to entail, she suspected. She kept her hands and arms crossing underneath her breasts, while her tail managed to slip the key out of her pocket and toy around with it a bit. Run. Don't tell them your name. Run away from here. She thought. You still have a chance if you smash through one of those windows. Mismeia ignored her thoughts, seemingly, as she did not move and run out the door, or through a window. Instead, she got onto her feet, craning her head from side to side. "Call me Mismeia." She lightly curtsied, though it was merely to mock those who did curtsy. Her Gold and Violet eyes rolled over toward Shiro for a moment, scanning him for quite the while. Honestly, she couldn't figure out he was. Instead of inquiring, however, she merely gave everyone a smile, as well as another flicker of her silver tongue, then took a seat once more.
The Tiefling was quite curious once everyone began to shuffle out of the Inn, barring a few individuals with keys similar to hers, she noticed. Her clawed finger lightly dug into the wood of the table underneath her, as if lightly carving into it out of boredom. Her eyes, one violet and one golden, darted to the side to take a glance at the Aasimar. Her tail lightly stopped it's swishing, and she made sure to hide the appendage from view. Her eyes then trailed to that of the boisterous Halfling and Human, then to the much too gray boy... well, she thought it was a boy, at least. Using her tail, she wrapped it around the key that in her lap and used it to slip it subtly into her pocket. They'll murder you for what you are... A voice echoed in her mind. And when they find out about me... Mismeia ignored the voice. Why would she be called all the way over here if she were going to be murdered? Whoever sent the letter wasn't going to allow it, no matter how much of a fit that the Aasimar threw. Using a claw, which wasn't that much of claw, merely her nails in the shape of one, Mismeia threw her hood back, letting her hair fall naturally in it's place. Pitch black, with a single red streak. She didn't know why it was there. She was born with it. Standing from her seat, Mismeia stepped toward a stool at the bar, taking her seat next to the other three. "We're all here for the same reason, I bet." The Tiefling answered the Aasimar, making herself known if she wasn't already. A faint voice echoed along with hers, if one could manage to hear it.
The Scaley-Skinned Woman stood at the front of the Inn, clutching an envelope with her bony claws. A cloak was draped over the girl, making sure that no one could manage to figure out her visage. Despite being locally famous, there were those who would want to put her to death for what she was. She pulled a key from the envelope, staring at it with her mismatched irises, before slipping it away and entering the establishment, a dreadful presence following her. She hoped that her entrance was not to be noticed. She quickly moved her frame toward an empty seat, taking a seat. Her eyes fell to the Elderly Dwarf, then to the other drunkards sharing the room with her. The Gray-Skinned woman muttered phrases most would find incomprehensible, as if she were having a conversation. The woman tapped a claw against the wooden table of the counter, idly toying with the key she had received. Her ears twitched as she listened silently to the conversation the Dwarf and the Blonde were having, though she didn't listen for long. If one were to look closely, one might spot a tail, swishing back and forth behind the 'Abomination', as some would call her. |
