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Drowned Ophelia It began - with the hammer of drums. The very air shudders with the slow, almost lazy sway of guitars as lightning crackles between the posts of an inactive portal to the Citadel. It grows, as calm as a bomb, before the portal opens; Rippling explosions follow the vehicle that exits - the Hearse. One part hot rod, one part corpse carrier and one part rolling temple to DEATH METAL, fire pours out of golden exhaust ports while the blower howls, sucking in deep droughts of air. The blurring machine's crackling ripple echoing about the white temple-like expanse, leaving tire tracks on the pavement.
At the wheel? Who else - but the Queen of Tears herself. A cold, brittle smirk on her face as her clawed hands wrap about the steering wheel, relaxing back into royal purple upholstery. The oversized backwheels squeal as Drowned Ophelia kicks in the hand breaks, its rear end rotating around and drifting to a stop. There it pauses, rattling and growling, a beast, unnatural life formed from the power of METAL and FIRE and NOISE and BLOOD. Ophelia glances over, letting her arm drape out one side as she flashes white teeth between black lips.
"Here we go. Fucking awesome set of wheels, right?" She asks, of her 'passenger'.

ThemeSong: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dW6aNAZGTM - Cradle of Filth, Nymphetamine Fix
Ferham      Ferham must have seen the rather... interesting display as the hearse approached the citadel. Ferham descended down from a higher story, or perhaps the very top of it somewhere--her metal wings flared out to either side of her, her high heeled boots clicking against the pavement outside as she alighted on the ground.

     "So what do I owe this pleasure this evening? do you perhaps need any help with your... girlfriend? passenger?" Ferham raised a brow as she stood there just nearby the hearse, a hand on her hip as she peered in. The femmebot was remarkably tall, at least 6'5" in those boots, it seemed like.
Kotone Yamakawa For those who know Kotone? They might see someone who looks a bit like her, but that's on top of being a patchwork of stiched together flesh. She also looked like she fell out of a metal concert. She turned her face to the Queen of Tears for a moment seemingly thinking as they are on a ride.

"Honestly? Like a damn monument to hubris."

She paues to look over at Ferham and grins as she looked at the tall reploid woman.

"You, you I like. The name is Flesh Doll, you are?"
Drowned Ophelia "Fucking A it is. I'm the Avatar of Death Metal."
Begins Ophelia, drawing her clawed hands along the cars door. ".. And this is my -ride-, right off the metal flesh of the Cremator." There's almost reverance in the voice, as if the Doom Metal Queen actually enjoyed something beyond hurting people. Well, perhaps 'enjoyed' is a bit strong of a word. She then glances up - and up again - at Ferham. Grinning as she steps out of the growling car, the ectoplasmic ichor that makes up her dress shifting tightly with each move. Before tilting her head towards Flesh Doll.

"Girlfriend's a bit much. I just finished getting her wet." With Black Tears! One arm crosses over her chest, the other propping up her chin. Clawed fingers tap-tapping against her cheek.
"You're new. I don't think I've had your pleasure yet." There's something cold and brittle in the woman's voice, despite the provocative language. "Mind showing her around? She'll need to get her feet under her before she goes after the imposter.."
Ferham      "I see, did this used to... be someone?" Ferham peered into the car as Ophelia got out, looking over 'doll' face there, apparently she got the hint this was someone that had been frankensteined back to life. Or maybe put together as something entirely new.

     "Well then, just wait," Ferham replied cooly to Ophelia's comment about being new and not having had her pleasure yet. "Sure, I just need to know what the story is with her and if there is anything I should know," Ferham stepped back, her wings swiveling and sliding into place behind her back, peering down at 'Flesh Doll', she would offer a black polymer gloved hand to help the girl up and out of the vehicle.
Kotone Yamakawa Flesh Doll notes "You know what the greeks were all about but honestly? Union's even more full of pride, they burned entire words and trumped it up as justice as protectin the rest. Bunch of sick shits who make us look good."

There's a hint of hate bitterness and even a little fear there.

"I still am something...if I can get back what /she/ took I can be whole again."

She looks to Ferham with intrest now.
Ferham      "Get back what who took from you?" Ferham tilted her head down at the girl, or doll, whichever. She was still holding her black-gloved hand down for her, though she leaned back just a bit now. "I was told to get you acquainted with the facility, I assume your handler here is looking to have you work with us, well it's my responsibility to help you," Ferham nodded a little, peering down at the stitched together girl.

     "So, what's the story? you get in a fight with a lawn mower, or what?" the femmebot raised a brow.
Drowned Ophelia Scene closed due to RL and loss of player! More words to finish the word count!