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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"Quite pretty." He smirked and laughed, enjoying the sort banter he was typically used to. "But you are not a Lord of Chaos. My blade has developed a taste for those. Some sort of sorceress, perhaps a dead one?" He still leaned towards the unusual water elemental theory, but, she did appear to be taking a classic sorceress' tactic. He was a little annoyed that she wasn't one of the unnaturally beautiful, seductive sorts, who were always more entertaining to deal with.
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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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