BLOOD BATH / july mask vigil

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 55%; font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; text-align: justify;"]The tortoiseshell didn't like this very much. It was whatever, she supposed, tugging nervously at the cloth she tied around her neck - easier to manage, she thought. Still, a maze? Aya was afraid to get lost, but she figured, keep moving and hide within bushes, hopefully it would work out. Slipping through the sharp branches, the tortoiseshell shivered fearfully as she began to wind through the middles.

Mask vigils - they were quite the interesting cultural tradition, he had to say. From what he understood, the leader held a ceremony and people got masks - to have a mask was indicative of truly being a Tangler, or something like that. He didn't even know what sort of mask to get, to be honest, much less how he was going to put it on - spiders weren't well known for their faces.

That could come afterwards. For now, the arachnid would tie a cloth around his frontmost right limb, near the base of it, so he could keep track of it more easily. He was tempted to tie a thin strand of silk attaching it to one of his other legs, but he was sort of afraid that would be considered cheating. As he headed out into the ritual, his eyes would shift to a swirling dark green of deep thought, each seeming to be a miniature whirlpool as he thought up a battle plan.

tags - "speech"

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-size:8pt;font-family:verdana"]Fight for yourself and survive until sunrise? Well, it would be a shame to do that wouldn't it? With a bright blue cloth tied around her neck like a snugly fitting collar, and she was meant to fight off anyone that already had their masks. From what she could guess, that wouldn't be too hard of a challenge. She was a Blair, bred for war and hunting what others would fear to face. There was no possible chance that some Tanglers could possibly pose that much of a threat to her.

She practically skips into the graveyard, positively grinning from ear to ear. There was no need for a battle plan was there? Plans often went south the moment they were conceived, so she planned to simply to her instincts guide her, years of fighting and duelling would be far more potent than trying to think out a strategy. No murder or maiming seem perfectly reasonable rules too.

Ah, she liked this tradition.

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 65%; line-height:120%; text-align: justify;font-family: verdana;"]Ophelia didn't really know what this tradition was, but it did pique her interest a bit. She was a prideful being, always ready for a chance to prove her worth, to grasp onto some tendrils of respect from her peers. Without hesitation, she moved forward and used her teeth to tie a piece of cloth tightly to her left wrist.

She definitely wasn't the first one to enter the maze, but she figured that was a good thing. It gave her a better chance of staying separated from the others, away from whatever or whoever they were attracting to them. As soon as she had a chance to move away, she did, dropping down to a crouch to slink along through the shadows, wings pressed tightly to her sides. She hoped that her dark coloration would do her some favors, give her a small advantage to stay hidden from those without powers. Quietly, she crept along, ears pricked and listening for any hunters that might make their approach or other contenders that she should avoid for her strategy's sake.