<img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/D01nHYr.png" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Bajazet was a woman with thick skin, and a strain of stubbornness that only reared it's head when the time was least opportune. The world needed more women capable of carrying out acts based on steeled resolve. This was her opinion, at least. If nothing else, she did her part in all the ways she was capable of, minus any peace breaching methods that might effect the camp adversely. It wasn't like she intended to stay in this caravan for the rest of her life, but it would do her a great deal of good to not be left without a home so abruptly. So, in this vein of thoughts, the ebony femme blinked dark lashes through the veil of dusk, and exhaled with a snort. "<font color="e6ad19]Protection? What would we need protection from?[/font]" The question was a delicate one, thrown to the stranger to ensure they chose wisely, as the wrong answer might be enough provocation to set Bajazet off.
First came the leper, then came the biker. She could only muse over what followed this ragtag pair. A clown? A pirate? A stripper? <font color="e6ad19]"Did you come armed, boy?"[/font] Bajazet dug her staff into the dirt again, dragging free loose grains of sand in a lethargic sweep near bare feet. <font color="e6ad19]"Even if you did, you are in no state to imply this caravan needs help. So, your fuel offer may stand, but you would be wise to use caution towards those who you speak to. Few are as tolerant as I am."[/font] A pause was made, full of assessments and judgement that may eventually come to light. In her way, the tribeswoman could be just as much a mystery as their desert landscape; a questioning scout who carried the burdens of those under their care. It bled through her persona in smudges of expression, foreshadowing what her own intentions to this interrogating line of questions may have been.
<font color="e6ad19]
"Are you high right now?[/font]" This didn't needed to padded. Bajazet needed to know so not to underestimate the youth. If he was under the influence of something, it was well within the scout's rights to ask. <font color="e6ad19]"If you wish to stay, you will need to be clean. That... Taint on your person isn't welcome. You, perhaps, are. But there will be no drugs in this caravan-- No exception will be made. I will not play host to a liability."[/font]
First came the leper, then came the biker. She could only muse over what followed this ragtag pair. A clown? A pirate? A stripper? <font color="e6ad19]"Did you come armed, boy?"[/font] Bajazet dug her staff into the dirt again, dragging free loose grains of sand in a lethargic sweep near bare feet. <font color="e6ad19]"Even if you did, you are in no state to imply this caravan needs help. So, your fuel offer may stand, but you would be wise to use caution towards those who you speak to. Few are as tolerant as I am."[/font] A pause was made, full of assessments and judgement that may eventually come to light. In her way, the tribeswoman could be just as much a mystery as their desert landscape; a questioning scout who carried the burdens of those under their care. It bled through her persona in smudges of expression, foreshadowing what her own intentions to this interrogating line of questions may have been.
<font color="e6ad19]
"Are you high right now?[/font]" This didn't needed to padded. Bajazet needed to know so not to underestimate the youth. If he was under the influence of something, it was well within the scout's rights to ask. <font color="e6ad19]"If you wish to stay, you will need to be clean. That... Taint on your person isn't welcome. You, perhaps, are. But there will be no drugs in this caravan-- No exception will be made. I will not play host to a liability."[/font]
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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