A strangely-dressed albino pushed his long, milk-white hair back from his face, staring about the room with wide, cat-like eyes of deep crimson. His eldritch features marked him as one of the line of ancient Melnibone, which he was soon to learn would mean very little here. The muscles in his lithe body tensed in expectation as he surveyed the room
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Sadako took on a relatively unthreatening aspect as she allowed herself to become visible; dripping seawater but not openly decayed. She peeked at Elric from behind her tangled curtain of hair and gave a girlish giggle.
"Oh, that outfit doesn't work at all! You need a pretty pink dress with white ribbons."
Sadako might have discovered the works of Mark Ryden.
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"You'd look just precious in a frilly little dress. Isn't that reason enough? And pretty little ribbons in your hair. You'd look sweet."
She ignored the other question.
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"Who are you, what do you serve, and why do you challenge me? Please, do not make me unsheath this blade I carry- it thirsts not for life, but for souls. If you seek to amuse yourself, do not so with Elric of Melnibone." He sighed, as if to emphasize that he didn't really want to have to attack her. Admittedly, it was the well-being of the other mortals in the Sorting Room he was concerned about, not hers. This creature seemed troublesome.
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And she faded. No point in overexposure, after all.
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