DECIMA FATE, DISTRICT FOUR [FIN.]

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Name: The Tenth, call her Ten.
Age: 16
Gender: Female
District/Area: District 4
Appearance:

Personality:

Decima is always one hundred percent accurate, measuring up each length of wool to perfection. This is a trait she has taken from her sister, and their mother before her. Not only that, but she also has an excellent sense of timing. It is therefore always up to her to decide when the right time to drop a body is. She is the one who knows how many days you have left, for if your death is bought, chances are it is marked in her ledger, and your time is coming. If one were aware of their hit coming, they could visit Decima to lengthen the time they have left. It only costs a small fortune. Decima holds no sympathy and will not be payed in pleading. If you come to beg for more time, you better bring a good bargaining chip.

History:

"Somewhere in the center of District Four, there is a wool shop. One must traverse many a canal, negotiate many a tight corner, slip through many a dark alleyway to find this shop. The shop is owned by three sisters, each oddly lovely in their own way. The sisters are all rather knowledgeable about the wool that is imported from the the Eighth District. There is Nona, the weaver, Decima, who measures out the wool for you, and Atropos, who will cut the wool measured for you.

Each sister is very good at what she does, their mother and father raised them you see, to be able to take care of themselves when they had to part from them. Still, it is not just a cozy little wool shop. You see, the wool is a front for the real business the sisters conduct. There is Nona, the one who measures how expensive a life will be, Decima, the one who decides when a hit will take place, and Atropos, the one to choose how a hit will take place.

The sisters work together, in an uncanny way. They deal in silence and whispers, rumours and sorrow. Their eyes into the outside world are the gondoliers that roam District Four's canals. Through them they collect whispers, facts, and lies. Through them they decide if a hit is worthy, if it will take place, and how painful it will be."

Codeword: odair
Comments/Other:

colour

[cass]

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[/size]he girl with the dark hair and forbidding eyes beacons you closer. The way she does it is so subtle and twisted that for a moment you remain planted to the ground. Your entire body tensing, freezing as though unsure of the dark and sinister ideas behind that delicate pink smile of hers. It slips onto her lips with ease, and the faintest, quickest reveal of a set of white teeth is given. But they quickly disappear behind tight lips, enchanting to say the least, but also very ominous. There was nothing welcoming about those dark blue eyes, they were cold and unfriendly and yet when she flicked a fragile finger forward, indicating you follow her out of the room your heart raced faster. The hesitation that grasped you lasted less than a second and before you knew what you were doing you were racing out of the door behind her.

Turning quickly you look left and then right, surveying the area around you with those dark green eyes of yours. But you found nobody and nothing, leaning forwards you quint, desperate enough to believe that she hadn’t just disappeared into thin air.[/color] ”Aren’t you just a little bit desperate,” she spoke with a tone that edged on sickly sweet, but was cold and bitter enough to make you want to walk the other way. There was nothing playful or teasing about it. It was like a cat staring at their prey, waiting for the right moment to strike. She sighed, it was light, and the closest thing it seemed she could ever muster to something even remotely calming.

”Why do I always end up picking the ones with all the issues.” You’re unsure of how to respond to that comment – knowing not how it was intended to be taken. The girl didn’t seem to be trying to offend you; maybe it was just the way she spoke. Words of all sorts seemed to leak from her lips their intention pure, the meaning crude and sometimes very rude. She had a way with words – not the way that made people fall over themselves to follow you, but the way that made people line-up to punch you in the face. It was a talent of hers. She was still perfecting the area of come-backs and retorts hers as lame as ever.

She’d get it right one day, though. It wasn’t like she needed to talk an awful lot at home. Her sister’s and her had devised a way of communicating that involved a lot less effort than the actual notion of speaking verbally to one another. It was far more efficient, far less of a hassle. Her sisters were so much better company. Decima Fate could picture them right now, snickering and snorting at her childish actions. Before berating her on strolling out into the public just to get a little bit of excitement. The generally impatient little brat just needed to blow off some steam and what better way to release some pent up energy then on a boy desperate for some love?

Always the best ones to choose. They never saw it coming.

When she received no response from the you, she folded her arms over her chest. Those fierce eyes darkened, and she tugged her eyebrows lower. Impatience seemed to radiate over her and you swallowed sharply, taking a step backwards and away from her. [/color]”What you don’t know how to talk?” She snapped, tone flickering into the firing line of annoyance. It leaked into her words, as though it was something that always seemed to be there, but just needed a little push to get itself swallowed completely. Her short black dress was pulled tighter around her body as she stepped forwards. Arms held tightly in front of her. She had a stiff set to her shoulders, and yet they looked composed, if not proud.

”I-um-I. Sorry, m’lady. You’re just different to what I expected.” You reply, tone crackling with uncertainty. You wipe a sweat covered hand over your jeans, leaning back and away from those dark eyes. But they had you in their clutches and you couldn’t look away, not now. A spark of amusement seemed to break through the storm, like a little beacon of hope on the rocky seas. It was enough to make your shoulders relax ever so slightly. She mutter the word ‘m’lady’ her amusement growing clearer by the second.

But you found that the comfort you had first gleamed from that brighter spark was quickly fading. Now as you looked it was clear that the amusement wasn’t one of warmth, but the same one that come from a person with a twisted sense of humour. It took little to no time at all for the girls shoulders to stiffen up once more, her tone growing clipped, prickling with annoyance and frustration. ”What? That’s all you have? You are such a bore. When I get bored bad things happen.”

For someone as small as she was she towered over you. You look her up and down, uncertain of what you should do next. But she hesitated; eyes travelling quickly down to the small pocket watch you hadn’t realised was clutched between her fingers. Sighing she stepped back, much to your relief. “I’ve got to go. I have impeccable timing you know? It is one of my best traits. So this was fun. Do it again with me sometime?” She turned and walked away, her last movement a lazy wink. You watched her go, eyes riveted to the slim figure, she looked incredibly fragile, but as she had leaned against you, you had felt the power and iron beneath that petite appearance. It was easy to see that she was not someone you could ignore. It was why you had followed her out here after all. She had a presence. Watching her strut away you felt her name tingle at the tip of your tongue. Not her real name. But the name everyone had given her.

They called her Ten.

One of the three fates.[/size][/size][/blockquote]

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[cass]

Really short, but done!

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