what pride had wrought | open, intro

[Amren]

[color=#414a4c]✴ ✴ ✴

It was no surprise that Amren appeared shortly after Cain, hardly casting her own shadow as she stood within his. Tanned arms would cross over her chest as she studied the wet Nosferatu, something mischievous gleaming within those pale-silver eyes of hers. It was no secret that the tiny woman gained immense joy from witnessing the misfortune of others. Tragedy that befell strangers, especially, delighted her to unspeakable extents, aligning almost perfectly with her wicked nature. [b][color=#414a4c]"Oh my, you look a bit wet, boy," She cooed, her voice as sickly sweet as usual. A grin crossed her features as she took a step forward, flames igniting within the palms of her hands. [color=#414a4c]"Want to dry off?"

She was, of course, kidding. As chaotic and terrible and ancient as Amren was, she'd never actually hurt another Blackfallen unless they gave her a substantially good reason to (for example: anyone who even dare lay a hand on Cain or Thomas or Leopold or Rainier or Iona or... well, any of her faux family would find themselves becoming very well acquainted with her unbridled wrath). This unnamed stranger was merely victim to her typical behavior, a cackle suddenly falling from crimson-painted lips as she both realized and embraced that little fact. [color=#414a4c]"Amren Archeron," She greeted next, closing her hands to extinguish the fire that had once crackled so gracefully within them, [color=#414a4c]"Are you going to stand up and greet us or are you too waterlogged?"