Thrasymachus has Stolen MY Coat

[Seven]

A solitary silhouette stands in a lonesome room. He is tall and lithe, a handsome jawline leading up to a face obstructed by profuse and black-lensed goggles circumscribing a section of his face. Chestnut-brown hair falls neatly in place over his forehead. There is something odd about him, despite the handsome , albeit slightly aged quality to his person. Something troubling. His presence is intimidating, and it feels as though shadows have appropriated themselves about this strangely terrifying villain. He stands patiently, proudly, arms folded behind his back as he waits. At the sense of your presence, he turns, looking over his shoulder first, before coming to face you.

"It has been brought to my attention that during my few years absence, since the time that Seven, the Imfamous AKA, and Pan ceased their role play of the Crystal World, that new characters and worlds have been created. Though this usurping of my clearly grander prowess is crude enough, if such a disgrace were not thoughtless enough, it seems that I have been pushed a step further. That I, Lord Bryant Wasewg, warden of the Wasewg Institution and leader in Other-extermination, should be subjected to not only being replaced, but having had my rightful and almost character defining property stripped from me to be given to another--I simply cannot take this outrage.

"As I have learned, my coat, a thick woolen navy blue frock coat, which I have been seen wearing in my past pictures in Seven's sketch book, has now appeared to be worn by this 'so-called' degenerate floosy, Thrasymachus. And if that wasn't bad enough, it has been hinted that this...this...'half-Guardian, whatever that might be, has been suggested to be comparable (of all things) to me! As you can see, I simply cannot stand back and allow my honorable name to be tarnished and drug through the mud in such a fashion.

"Therefore, Thrasymachus, whoever you might be, I am challenging you---challenging you to a duel!--as it just so happens that would like my coat back now, and I feel it is only appropriate that such an issue is solved in such a manner. If you are anything of a man--which you must be, to have been considered anything like me--then you will face me. If not, then not only are the masses imbeciles (but we already knew that), but then you do not deserve my coat, and as such, I demand it back."

The man--Wasewg--smiles, smug arrogance defining the perfect white of his almost elongated, teethy grin. "I am giving you 24 hours from this hour to respond before I do what I do best--hunting. As this forum is not my home, but yours, I realize you must have a number of little friends around here...so if any of your little friends feel up to the challenge, I invite them to pay me a visit here. It will be...fun."

He turns away once more, behaving dismissively. "In any case, whatever your decision, make it promptly, as I am notoriously impatient and very busy. As you know, I'll be waiting..." --he looks over his shoulder once more, his face obscured in shadows, only the glint of his predatory smile giving a gleam of light--"...but not for long."

[Asila]

"Wow. You are really intense." The words would soar into the room as a young woman walked through the door. She was only human, and dressed as so many of the young these days dressed, wearing a black zip-up hoody over an orange shirt that reflected the tint of her hair, black jeans with a stylish fade to them, and argyle sneakers. She smiled with a strange sort of ferocity at Wasewg. It was expression born of fear and amusement. But mostly amusement. Because this was such a cool opportunity! She finally got to meet the infamous Wasewg in person! And she got to defend T!

"I'm glad to have this chance to meet you," She said out loud as she paced a bit closer. She soon stopped, however, her fear pulling the brakes on a show of bravery that her instincts felt could prove suicidal. But she continued as though she hadn't noticed that her steps had faltered. "I've heard so much about you. You are an awe-inspiring individual. And you have style. That coat is a striking one." Suddenly she crossed her arms and stared sternly at Wasewg, daring to meet his gaze. "But that coat belongs to Thrasymachus now and, as his number one fan, I will defend his right to possess it!"

[Seven]

Wasewg watched with a carefully reserved expression as the young woman entered. Though he was wont to question her strange dress (for it was strange dress to him), and her unusual attitude, what he took note of first was the glimmer of orange--the sight of red hair which was such an anomaly to his world.

Indeed this was a strange land he had traversed to.

His lips pursed just slightly, giving his stoic air of indifference just the slightest hint of curiosity to it. That, and he couldn't help but think of how he had again left Wes--who was as well a female of approximately the same age, and possessing that same strange colored hair--again without a word or a note. Oh well. Surely his absence would be forgiven. Besides, at the moment, he had a mission at hand, and he was not going to back down either.

He listened to the girl--first of her compliments, then her testament of fanaticism towards Thrasymachus-- with the patient smile of an adult dealing with a petulant, but amusing child. Only once she finished--humoring her with his good manners and behaving as though her opinion on the matter could actually matter--did the quiet line of his lips crack so that he could smile with his viciously predatory teeth again. There came a musical hum, which was in truth the soft sound of him stifling his chuckles, only emitting from his throat as a vibration as they had been thwarted there.

"That is kind of you," he said, the light bouncing off the black lense of his goggles with an almost alien light, "to say that you think so highly of me so soon." He took a step forward to this girl. Behind his unblinking, lensed stare, he saw her falter with fear. Such a show of intimidation was the greatest compliment he could be given. "But I am afraid your show of bravery is serving no one right now and is going unappreciated, so why don't you just behave and tell me where this Thrasymachus fellow is so that we might settle this issue ourselves?

"But to straighten one issue, it still is my coat. What logic could you have to say that coat is his? Hm?" he asked, his polite tone mocking in some subtle quality.

[Asila]

Fangirl Alysa had known she was stepping into a potential trap when she'd chosen to meet this challenger of T's, but that knowledge didn't do much to keep her from feeling increasingly twitchy as the seconds ticked by. This villain was certainly terrifying enough. She exhaled slowly and straightened her spine, which wanted to hunch over into a defensive crouch. Oh well. She could handle this as long as he didn't get too close. She had faced forces that frightened her this much on more than one occasion.

But if he gets close enough to tower over me, I'm going to shamelessly run for my life. And maybe I'll even scream bloody murder, while I'm at it. She thought all of this in a tone of cynical good humor that would have had her laughing at herself under friendlier circumstances. Now, she was seriously considering this shameful route of behavior.

She frowned at herself and, once again, stubbornly met that hidden gaze as she answered. "Now, why would I just tell you where Thrasymachus is? That would be idiotic. I came here to defend him, not to betray him," she explained in exaggerated tones. As though she thought the whole idea was just too silly to take seriously. "And of course that coat is his. Just because it happens to look like yours doesn't mean it's yours. Unless you want to insist that your coat is the only one like it in the known universe, you can't take it back just because it happens to resemble yours."