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08-11-2012, 05:20 PM
R I C C I A R D O
The Sandman. You're getting yourself too worked up, calm down; the thoughts in his head were reeling and he knew that he was getting himself out of his depths. The flame-kissed brute's temper was not usually this irate and quick at flaring, it almost scared him when he was realising that d'Artagnan and now the new stranger were attempting to make him flip. He gazed at the newcomer to the conversation, a dame he had never laid orbs on before. She was a pretty thing, but odd at the same time, horn adorned with fur that gradually faded into raw bone at the tip, her pelt of burnt sienna, her charcoal silks and amber orbs. Instead of a full hair of tail silks, it was instead the tail of a line that matched the colour of her pelt with but a little hair at the tip. Judging by the closeness of the two, he judged this stranger to be on affectionate terms with the Doctor. Oh great... With his ears still pinned back as far as they could go, the brawny mass of Ricciardo was lifted high off the ground by his pillars, in a poise that was neither friendly nor signalling an attack. He did not think it was wise for things to go further than they have, but he had to admit that the sharp tongues shared were too good to miss. He quickly came back with a retort, "My business is my own d'Art, am I not entitled to solitude?" He narrowed his gaze with a fierce anger dancing in their lights, "This will change if I ever hold a rank worthy to be proud of..." Stepping forward on his daggers slightly, he then turned his flame-kissed crown to the vixen. The light played on the bleached patch across his crown, as well as his horn. He was polite yet still bore no emotion other than coldness in his tone. "No such thing, fair maiden. d'Artagnan has simply caught me at a bad time. But there is no reason for it to be worsened." |
