[PRP] ...No. (Wrath/Na'ima)

[Seussi]

"That sounds like a challenge."

He.....challenged? He was either calling her bluff or was very interested in those other vials and what they could do.  

[Eight]

Challenge accepted. Na'ima sat back on her heels and dropped a bag that had been on her hip onto her lap instead. She dug through it, finally taking out a vial of some sickly purple concoction. "Ah, I like this one. It has the potential of being quite fun. It's meant to attack the nerves of your eyes instead of your limbs, causing temporary blindness from your eyes but with fun hallucinatory effects." She pulled the cork out of the vial, lowering it over his eyes but not tipping to pour it just yet.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

If Wrath could have looked bored, he would have. He stared up at her with unblinking, dark red eyes and listened to what she had to say berfore letting out a scoff. "Is that all? Doesn't sound much worse than trance, really."

He sounded thoroughly unimpressed.

eight

 

[Eight]

Na'ima narrowed her eyes. "Death clan," she muttered in a huff. She dug through her bag with her free hand, bringing the vial back. Finally she found something, humming cheerfully. Maybe if she..? She carefully pulled the second core out with her teeth so she could pour some of the red into the purple, turning it a..not pleasant color. Oh well. It was corked again with her thumb and put away so she could close up the new concoction and shake it, mixing the new potion together. "Tell me about yourself, Rathsvith," Na'ima said idly, almost forced and rehearsed as if she had had to be reminded once upon a time to remember her manners.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

Again with the questions. He was much more interested in watching just what, exactly, she was doing, though unfortunately without being able to turn his head, much of what she did remained out of sight.

Pity.

Still, he didn't suppose it was going to hurt at this point to answer her. He was pretty sure that he had incurred her annoyance, and that he was now, quite possibly, in for a very interesting afternoon.

He would have smiled if he could. Instead she would have to settle for the resting b***h face that was mostly hidden behind his beard when he replied.

"I am an ashen soldier of the death clan. My mother, however, who I have never met, was of famine." There, that should have given her enough to think about for now.

"So, what's that then?" he asked, eyes rolling towards the now horribly hued substance in the vial.

Eight