Poverty - a word Loraina knew nothing of. Born as a daughter of the illustrious Brooks family, yes, she was shackled with the burdens and responsibilities of meeting the high standards that had been set by her ancestors. Though she herself was still a fledging at this point in time, her ever-growing knowledge in the realm of magic served great purpose in helping her achieve her own goals. Ultimately, those aforementioned goals had nothing to do with her surname and the weight of the world that normally came with it, but hey, being a Brooks did have its perks. And she was going to milk the living crap out of every second of it.

On this particular day, it was a rather eventless afternoon despite the fact that she had recently officially been accepted as a part of a certain coven with somewhat of a bad reputation amongst the magic community. With the looming threat of her being persecuted as a result of people finding out, she would of course, keep it only to herself and her fellow members. Though, it was advised that she pose as a member of another guild, or dabble in the ventures of freelancing, but for now, all she had to worry about was whether or not she wanted another refill of her french vanilla latte.

This cafe was.. mediocre at best. Of all the rave reviews its been receiving over the past few months, Loraina figured she'd experience the hype for herself, and thus far she'd find it to be quite the disappointment. Sure, it wasn't all bad. For instance, the ambience was perfect for an afternoon of worriless thought, but since she'd already been here since lunch time, she sat through the hustle and bustle of those shoveling in through the doors for a quick lunch and a cup of caffeine goodness. Besides, their coffee wasn't even that good.

"My dear master, why are you so insistent on staying in this foul establishment?" said the invisible voice inside her mind. One of the many, but also one of the more distinguishable. Mainly because of its high pitched frequencies and sharp undertones.

"Because we're already here, Crimmy." she responded in kind without speaking a single word aloud as she continued sitting legs crossed in a corner of the room, flipping through a pamphlet that lists out all the seemingly amazing travel destinations of this local area. She may have had a warm bed to go back to every night if she wished, she always chose the option of sleeping in a hotel room in all the different parts of towns and cities that she has yet to visit, for convenience sake. "It'd be a bloody awful waste of time if we were to go to another less favored cafe, lest you know of any hole in the wall places."

The gentle ringing of the bell straddled at the top of the entrance signaled for another potential customer. If this person would've been here a few hours earlier, she'd have perhaps paid him a slight bit of attention. After a few hours of the same process, however, it tends to get a bit old.

Heaving an odd sigh, the woman temporarily removed her reading glasses and folded them onto the front of her collar. Unlike most of the people within this establishment, and probably all of the folks within this olden era, her tastes in clothing have always been a bit.. unique, to say the least. She liked dresses and the sort, but none that are overly frilly and full of unnecessary decors and designs. Some might point out that she may have been a bit too modest for her own good, but that tight-fitting piece of fabric that hugged her curves with an embrace as tight as a mother to a daughter certainly left no complaints - especially to those she so happened to walk by.

"A refill, please." Uncaring of the person that came in before her, she wandered up to the florally dominated counter and proceeded with her request. She wouldn't have cared about getting off her own seat if it weren't for the fact that they were short-handed in staff today, but once she left the cup there, she would eventually make her way back to where she was, hopefully without any hindrances.

CODED BY REM OF WW

All in all, the day seemed like an amalgam of relaxed minutes seeping through before the sun eventually on downwards, but that was still a good few hours away from happening. Though she wouldn't say she was itching for some action, it wouldn't be all too bad if something interesting were to happen to spice up the afternoon by a few notches, no?

As soon as the thought passed her mind though, she found herself frozen stiff - which was ironic, because that's what her familiar's known to do - when she passed by a table with a patron who spoke her name aloud. Nowadays, she's so used to going by her full name, or by the nickname Raine that she gave herself that she simply refused to believe that there's still people out there who would refer to her as such. Outside of her parents, of course.

A brief glance over to the spiky haired male - spikes that although could not rival her very own messy, albeit silky pink mane, held its own quite well - gave her a brief sense of familiarity. There wasn't a lot of it, but perhaps it was an aftereffect of certain traumatic incidents that she prefered to keep locked up in the back of her mind, or it was just a false sense of security and she was just hearing voices again.

"Loraina."

With a simple, spiteful retort mixed with an expression that showcased her piercing dagger-like sapphire blue stares, she continued sauntering back to her own table, awaiting her fresh cup of beverage to come by as her invisible familiar kept pestering her about who that man was. Was he a childhood friend? No no, definitely not. She didn't have any. Extended family? No, not even close. She'd remember their faces. Each and every single one of them until the day she perishes. Then.. perhaps a family friend? That was the most plausible answer, but who knows.

Did she want to find out? Yes. Was she eager to find out to the point where she'd converse with the man about it? Probably not. Besides, most people would get scared off quite easily after that, anyway, so there wasn't much for her to worry about.

Or so she thought.

CODED BY REM OF WW

Things could only go awry from here.

Upon seeing the male rising up from his table with his cup of beverage in hand, she knew what was about to happen, but in a place like this filled with other people, she didn't have the right to make a big fuss out of this. It'd be extremely hypocritical of her to ruin what was finally a moment of established peace and quiet when it was one of the things she quietly vented on earlier.

When that nickname caused certain locked memories to resurface though, she couldn't help herself. Yet, somehow, she still had the wherewithal to control her loudness even in the midst of throwing a gargantuan temper tantrum to the point where no single word would be processable by the human brain, especially when her increasingly thick accent began taking over.

"Bloody blimpy cuck, I would tear you a new arsehole if I could-.."

And that was the gist of it. If she were not to be interrupted at all, she'd continue on for at least a good five minutes before the winding down process begins, and that would take another two minutes. Hell, even the waiter who stood to one side of the table got some of her tantrum rubbed off on him, as he did not leave unscathed. At least, not verbally unscathed, that is.

Some things never could change, really, even after all these years. It was a quirk that she was told she inherited from her mother, who passed away when she was still a wee toddler. Still, the sudden resurgence of what was her childhood bully? Well, practically everyone picked on her back then, so it's not like he was an odd one out or anything. But thanks to him though, that particular nickname clung to her for the remainder of her sullied childhood. Everywhere she went, all the family meetings, all those gatherings, not one other child has called her anything but that godforsaken term.

Yet most wondered why she felt justified in her actions.

"Leave. Now. Your poor hygiene infuriates me."

CODED BY REM OF WW

The longer she continued on venting, the more she recognized the individual seated before her, and the angrier she got. Still, even she had her limits with things like these, and regardless of how furious she was when scene after scene of traumatic childhood memories kept replaying in her mind like a reel to a projector screen, she could only last so long before her stamina ran out. It was almost the exact same as her mother's, though her mother tended to forget about what she got angry at in the first place. Loraina, on the other hand, never forgets. Period.

"You, of all people, have the nerve to ask me how I am?" After recuperating with a large sip of her now-lukewarm beverage, the woman's passive-aggressiveness remained in the air, and a few other clients within their vicinity had made the smart decision to move out of their little circle of space, lest they were gluttons for punishment themselves. "Let me guess. You've taken an interest in me, because I do not look like how I did in the past. Yes, I've seen this tale a thousand times. Hand in marriage from those who used to insult me, the finest of wealth and riches from those who used to physically assault me."

"And lustful gazes from those who used to resent me." Though her words were already riddled with venom and seeping with hatred, that last one had an oomph to it that not even her previous tirade could compare. Some might argue that the quietest words usually held the highest of meanings, and it certainly could be treated as such in this case.

"M-Master, calm down!"

"What do you want from me then, scum? Which one of those categories do you fall into, or perhaps, you've come back to ridicule me even further?"

CODED BY REM OF WW

Loraina felt so pissed and so justified that she could've formed a gallantry of soldiers to wreck the entire planet then and there.

No matter, for she would attain her goals when the time comes, and all those who dared question her abilities would meet their demise one way or another, if they haven't already. Granted, the only people whom she made suffer way back when were all members of her extended family, and she somehow managed to get away with it because of her seemingly timid nature and the inner workings of her magic. Though she was small at the time, creativity did aid in those dastardly plots, and the most miniscule things often resulted in the biggest blow dealt.

She gave him a chance. After all her spiteful words, it was only natural for a retort to happen, but when it did, color her unimpressed - as evident by the crossing of her arms underneath her luscious frame of a chest and the icy cold stare she continued wearing throughout the entire conversation.

"You justify your actions towards me as a result of you being a mere child? Do you suppose that's forgivable?" If he honestly did, well then, she should be forgiven for all the crap she did when she was younger, no? All those lives lost, all the futures taken away. Sure, you could count them with two hands, but this is a crime that some would consider even the number one to be one too many.

"Oh, humor me. Know what?" There were a lot of things she didn't know, after all. Especially things that pertained to her family's friends, or even her extended family in general. The only person she cared about was her father, and the only person she'd ever happily accept any and all criticism from was him. He raised and cared for her, without pressuring her into anything in particular. Though he was a strict man with militaristic discipline and a duty to his family as the oldest son, he deemed it fit that she grew at her own pace. No comparisons, no competition. Just a child, experiencing the world one step at a time.

It was all her other aunts and uncles that did, and they paid a damn good price for it.

"What can you possibly tell me that would make me less barmy?"

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"What is it? Speak proper or don't speak at all."

Those last few words, for anyone whom have had the liberty of attending one of her father's parties, they would've heard this quote before, no matter the age. It was a motto of his, after all, to instill confidence into those who usually got too nervous to speak to him. Nevermind the fact that he probably intimidated them even more thereafter, but it usually worked. At least, to a degree.

Her stern, prim and proper look did derive from both her father and her mother, but the dark depths that was beyond anyone's understanding came from something else. All the years of abuse and envy, rage and hatred. If that doesn't turn you into a monstrosity, then you may have well already been one.

Though she wasn't that fond of prying into the personal lives of others - mostly because she hasn't yet formed a personal connection with someone to the point where she feels comfortable sharing and hearing certain details, she could sense a small bit of distress from the man before her. Whether or not it was any of her business though, she couldn't care less.

All this coldness and bitterness, she obviously wasn't like this before as a child. In fact, most would claim that she was compassionate and friendly, and was always willing to lend a helping hand despite the fact that she was a mere fragile little girl who couldn't do much. Hey, if hormones can mould a person into a completely different being, then the world is capable of changing someone's core from a bright and gentle soul to a rotten, despicable individual.

She just happened to hide it well under the guise of wealth, reputation and, above all else, beauty.

"So? What is it that you have to say? Or are you planning to waste my time again."

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".. So?"

A most surprising answer, coming from the girl who held her family in such high regards. It seemed that she had somehow accepted his decision and expected far worse things, but now that she put some deeper thought into the subject matter, she concluded that people like them, those born into families with exceedingly extraordinary reputations, born into a life where the weight of the world was already pressed onto your shoulders the moment they severed the cord, it was undeniably a heavy settlement that would've surely cut his ties completely with that of his family members.

She went silent for a few moments, especially after he brought up the taboo topic. Of all the heinous crimes she thought she'd get away with, he was the only sole person walking the face of this earth that had witnessed one of it. But that particular incident? That was an accident. A true, blue accident. It involved a large stairwell, her dolls, a bully, and a slippery iced floor. Though it may have been her anger that had gotten the better of her, the utter relief that had overwhelmed her soon after she saw the lifeless expression plastered across the young child's face - it was.. almost too good to be true.

Up until then, most of the other incidents had been mishaps or random minor injuries, but they always came back. They almost returned to torment her further, and there would be absolutely nothing that she could do about it. Until she took matters into her own hands, changing her fate and theirs as well, for better or for worse.

"Yes, I suppose I should stop living in the past." Loraina sighed, stirring and staring at her cup of milky brew, watching on and on as the swirls spun, seemingly endlessly, until they dissipated and nothing remained. She understood good and well that she'd never be able to let certain grudges go, but if she were to cling to her past as she did now, what would she be able to achieve for her future? Just like how the man before her felt an overwhelming weight on his shoulders to live up to his family's reputation, she was weighed down by the events in her past.

Thus, to rid her mind of all the chaos, and unleash it upon the world. Wasn't that such a lovely thought?

"You've made your choice. Are you happy with it? If you are, then there isn't anything I can say that you don't already know."

CODED BY REM OF WW