PATIENCE IS A NOT A VIRTUE WITH WHICH I AGREE | joining

[ELIZABETH]

The stranger that appears before her isn't that old. Elizabeth shouldn't feel annoyed that it's a child demanding for her name and business. She was half tempted for her response to be a draw of her sword, an open challenge for the child to answer. A bat was clumsy, brutish, oh so annoying. She decides against it, but the scowl stays in place upon her face.

It does nothing for her features as her mother would have said. Oh Elizabeth sweetie, you should smile more! You look a picture when you smile! Elizabeth looked a picture now, one of contempt.

"I would have you watch your manners when speaking to those older than you. My name is Elizabeth Blair, I have the unfortunate wish to join your lovely little group." She states, and if she wants to argue about it, then Elizabeth will use her sword as an incentive. After all, people learned through steel.

[Reggie.]

[align=center][div style="0px; width:450px; text-align:justify; color:black; font-size:8pt;"]"That is unfortunate," Johnny muttered, mostly there because while Tatiana could handle herself he couldn't help but be protective. In his hand was a piece of rusty metal that could have come from a gate. All he knew was one good whack and some poor fool would be out of the game. Luckily it didn't seem like he needed to do that. "The badlands don't promise safety if thats what you're thinking," his free hand went to his hip where a nasty stab wound had recently healed, "and don't expect free food either."

"Other then that I'm Johnny, one of the good ones," grinning a bit he glanced at Tatiana, "unlike this one."

(This is so lame I'm sorry)

[TATIANA]

[align=center][table]

[ashen]

[i]*:･ﾟ✧ METTATON

Mettaton had recently taken back to his usual habit of greeting the numerous idiots who fell into the badlands, and this time, it seemed to promise something interesting. She'd already managed to piss off dear Tati, which wasn't difficult, but at least it meant he knew which side to take. The tall and flamboyantly (read: sparkly) dressed man wove his way up to where dear Elizabeth was hosting her little greeting party, boots carefully stepping around any spills or anything else disgusting. When he'd finally come up beside Tatiana, towering more than a foot above her, he turned his black-painted eye to the woman. Very fair, pale, white hair, clean, goodness--she looked like an angel food cake. He smirked delicately, holding up a hand and frowning down at Tatiana. [b]"Dear, your temper is going to be the death of you." He looked up at Elizabeth, and gave a shrug to her. "Johnny, don't ingratiate yourself, that's just weak. I love you, darling, but please." He barely knew Johnny. He'd once given him some comic books, though, if he recalled, that had to count for something?
"I'm Mettaton. Is there any particular reason you want to throw your lot in with us? You certainly seem disgusted enough by the little gremlin at my side. There's plenty of....other...places...I'm sure you could fit right in in Saint Peters, or who knows, there's bound to be other towns more suited to your liking."

[table]

[ELIZABETH]

She did not like the smell. It clung to the area, smelt of rotting meat and unsavory practices in Elizabeth's opinion. It was no matter, she did not come here because she admired the scenery, nor did she come for pleasant company. Pleasant, well-mannered and civil company was in short supply when the world had suffered. That didn't matter, Elizabeth was prepared to get her hands dirty.

She had no doubt that Anima had died fighting. Unbeknownst to her, her sister was alive. But that didn't matter, according to Elizabeth, she was the last Blair alive. And that counted for once - Miss Blair was fucking pissed with everything and everyone. The world itself could go fuck itself, the apocalypse did not suit her plans whatsoever, it had ripped away her parents, her sister, her brother, every friend she had ever made was dead.

It was for this reason, and this alone, that she found herself wanting to become a resident of the Badlands. Not because she liked the idea, but because they would not care for her or about her. No, she would be free to do whatever she pleased, and if that was to dissect the living body of people she disliked, then she was fully free to do so with a rapier.

The said sword was strapped to her side, meticulously cared for and silver in colour. It was matched to pistols, although ammunition for the firearms was not in large supply. With most of her supplies contained in a large duffel bag that had seen better days, it still kept it's white colour somewhat with faded gold. Her clothes were relatively well kept, a peacoat with a golden brooch of a blackbird, a white shirt that was slightly offwhite now, faded jeans and boots. Her hair was done up in it's usual braid, and she sorely missed makeup at this point. However, compared to some survivors, she does look like she could still pass for a decadent lady.

Which is exactly what she was, in a sense.

Regardless, she stood upon the outskirts of the city, checking her reflection in a slightly shattered compact mirror to inspect for anything ugly. With nothing found, she was ready to ask that they accept her. If they did such a thing in a place without any order.

[TATIANA]

[align=center][table]