The dwarven burrows, endless impossible to navigate miles of history. A history of failures and defeats, in the eyes of the captain of the expedition. Joscelyn Delacrox stood at the edge of the table, a pair of Dwarves, a member of the Chantry, and a mercenary captain all stood around a map of the nearly impossible to understand dwarven passageways. It was not that they were lost, simply that exploring the vast complex in the capacity of a Grey Warden was proving difficult. They were working on a time frame that simply did not allow for the careful understanding and exploration of every passage as a military expedition. 

"The Dark Spawn are tribal and nomadic, and, while I git yer own confidence in the matters of pushin through this block, we dunnae know where a tribe begins and ends. If we start a ruckus with one of tha bigger clans, we risk the expedition," a Dwarf barked angrily once more. He'd said it over and over as Joscelyn had pushed further and further into the heartlands, the unknown and lost barrows. 

And, once again, Joscelyn rolled her eyes. 

"Unless you have doubts about my ability to lead, I suggest you silence yourself Bardik, AND YOU, LEONA, I don't want to hear," she added, already predicting another response from the Knight-Cleric. Joscelyn glowered at them, and, though she raged and blustered, no one had died yet. In fact, the Grey Knight leader of the charge had taken extra steps constantly to ensure the safety of those on the journey. 

"I will not be another failed expedition, wasting more resources on the Darkspawn. We must use this Lull to find the source, one of these Broodmothers, or, deeper still. Every mile we explore is a mile our successors need not. We have two months here, and I will NOT slow down without sufficient reason given by Darkspawn, not this gathering of blow hards," she barked angrily, then gestured her hand dismissively, "And, this meeting is once again over until one of you can tell me what is in the cavern directly below us. Leona, I will speak to you personally in my quarters, since you seem so desperate for my attention."

And, with that, Joscelyn turned, entering a Dwarven house she'd repurposed to her own use, leaving the heavy door open behind her. 







The old wisened voice nodded again, raising a hand and bringing quiet to the room. Dumbledore sat, looking down over his desk at Professor McGonagall and another, a redheaded woman who sat glowering at the desk disrespectfully. Dumbledore sighed, running his hand slowly over the top of his beard, letting the new teacher sit and stew as McGonagall shook her head in silence at the new woman. Minerva sighed, the severe looking woman taking her time as well, letting the redhead cast her glowering hateful glares. Dumbledore broke the silence once more, with a clearing of his throat and the soft sound of his wisened voice.

"Miss Delacrox, I understand your zeal is... as much a reason for your choice as our new Defense Against the Dark arts, but, and we have spoken before, the point system at Hogwarts is both an encouragement and a game for the students. It has worked for many years and, as you no doubt remember, we try to make if reasonably fair for all houses. Deducting I uh, how much was it?" 

"Fifty 'Bazillion' points, Professor," McGonagall informed him, causing the ancient wizard to chortle softly.

"Fifty 'Bazillion' points is a rather vast amount of points to deduct from a student who's only misbehavior was... Shuffling his papers too loudly during lecture. Now, as I see it, if you were truly concerned, five points may have been appropriate but, shuffling papers is just something students do... Now, once again, Miss Delacrox, it is your judgment on who to deduct and how much, but, please, keep the points reasonable or, we may be forced to negate your point privledges all together or severely limit them," Dumbledore said, finishing and then resting back in his chair. 

"FIFTY MILLION POINTS FROM RAVENCLAW!" barked Joscelyn, pointing at a group of girls who were giggling at boys out on the field. A shadow specter stood, like a dementor but only a figment, waving its wand at each student who approached it. Joscelyn Delacrox stood tall and proud, a sword ("A RAPIER!" she'd bark) hung from her side. She had hair the color of fire in all its forms, brillaint reds and, it had a habit of reflecting her moods. When she was mellow, it hung loose and uncontrolled around her head, and when she was angry, it'd spark up and form an inferno on her head. No other types of moods had yet been seen by the students. Her eyes were crystal blue, piercing those who she gazed at, and, though she was wild and quite humorous, no one enjoyed when those eyes locked on them. It seemed like her cries of pointlosses were standins for drawing that sword, as her hand always seemed to grip it like it were life and death. 

As class came to an end, her hair was up and burning hot. An inferno, a bonfire, it casted no heat and though it looked and moved like flames, it was clearly still her hair. 'I bet she's a flame elemental, one of them folk that can only cast fire and violence' one kid was saying to another as they all shuffled from the room. Finally, Joscelyn's hair settled and she leaned heavily on her leg, crossing her arms and surveying the carnage of another lesson in the field. They were a short distance from the lake and the greenhouse, and Hagrid's small hut lay some distance away, but, just barely visible. The teacher set about, slowly, gathering up the various bits of charred wood and practice dummies she'd employed for the lesson, waving her wand occasionally and saying "Repairo!" to fix some missing limb or head. It all had to be moved back inside, as most of her lessons had to be kept strictly in a classroom. 







Knightess, Dame Joscelyn Delacroux is looking for some fun! This noble is interested in forcing some poor young treat to sell her body. Nobility can do what they like to the poorest of the poor. Fantasy, Modern, Sci-Fi, there are plenty of settings and unusual ideas to explore. I am primarily looking for blackmail type RP, focused around status as a Noble or Rich character abusing rank. Please read my at least /some/ of my profile feel free to PM me for this or other RP ideas!


The Manor of Dame Joscelyn was much like Joscelyn herself. On the outside it was a bit odd, with a house extension off to one side, and a yard dedicated to fighting. A sort of battle retreat that stood out amongst the other rich establishments nearby. The house itself was known as the Red Brick, for its red washed roof and bricks that seemed to mirror its mistress' furious red hair. Three stories tall and slender, its rooms seemed to be fighting to stay balanced, some leaning a bit awkwardly off to one side. Needless to say those rooms had a small slant and unnerving nature to those who entered. However, the house was still sturdy and solid, and despite the odd looks and mutterances of the true nobles, it still stood in one of the more premier parts of town. This meant that Joscelyn had clout, as far as the court was concerned. As a Knight to the lord, and, a blooded knight, she was a well known and sought after soldier of fortune. 

But, at night, like every night, most lights went out in the manor. Somenights the Mistress would be seen, sitting just in view of the side gate, the back door open, and a soft fragrance of bread could be smelled. The cook would bid the House Mistress fairwell, and she'd sit, waiting. Her red hair hung about her face in a casual and furious complicated look that she probably spent little time with. Helmet hair, they'd call it, where her hair pulled and hung a bit awkwardly in many places, simply ignoring any attempts to tame it. Her pale neck was visible from the top of a thick white wool sweater that concealed her naturally thin but toned frame. Brown pants, brown boots. Simple as simple could be for her evenings, staring at the stars. A sword lay within reach, a threat to any who'd walk into her yard for an easy prey. No, she was not the prey, she was a predator, always waiting for the occasional fish who'd walk up to the backdoor gate. 



Just had a fun RP idea: Is anyone interested in an RP focused on two characters of semi-equal station. Joscelyn, a Knight abuses her role as a leader of a small company of Knights and soldiers on a quest, so that she can abuse and use someone forced to come along. Tearful sex, and feelings of simply being used would be greatly desired. However, the most important part, would be that the person getting abused wants to try to somehow forge a relationship with her abuser. An attempt, either successfully or delusional...ly to get Joscelyn to return affection in the relationship of master/whore. Works best if the abused has complicated ideas of what makes a relationship, and is trying to force Joscelyn, or, force themselves, to believe they are in one. Interested? Check my profile for more info, and feel free to PM!


Looking 


This is the Crimson Brick to Unidentified Civilian Vessel, please respond. 

The flashing text appears on every communicator that can recieve it as a lumbering red 'brick' of a spacecraft slowly looms over a small civilian craft, leaking oxygen into space. A colonizer, it bore several families on board and was bound for a distant planet that was slowly being terraformed. It was dwarfed by the red Emperian craft which drew slowly closer. A small shuttle had disengaged from the fat beast and flew steadily closer. It was difficult to tell if there were still vitals inside, the ship itself looked scrapped. Civilian craft disappeared all the time, but, most did not use their communications to broadcast their SOS in such a way that it mucks up the navigations of traveling crafts nearby. The Brick, a rather humorously named craft, had several weapons trained on the small civilian ship that had ruined its course and seemed insistant on investigating. A lucky break for them, as they fished up one of the rarest catches, and frustrated someone who could destroy their ship for its insult. 

A soft clanking would reverberate through the craft as the shuttle latched on like a parasite. It tore open the first airlock and a dozen soldiers slowly drifted inside, their tight fitting skin suits protecting them from the atmosphere. Cold metal walkways meant nothing in the damaged low gravity as they drifted through the ship, looking for the crew. There was still plenty of oxygen, still an environment that could sustain life, but, not for much longer without help. 

Amidst those searching was a rather unique sight. Dull black skin suits outlined soldiers, but, amidst them was a crimson red one. The face of a rather attractive young woman who grinned like a she-devil was visible. She seemed almost elated to have actually found a ship drifting in the middle of nowhere. Dame Joscelyn Delacrox, of the Delacrox family floated merrily along despite the caution her soldiers took. She was armed as well, a sword and a pistol hung off her warm hips. Her breasts were small, nothingto be proud of, but of a good shape. Her eyes were a crystal blue that seemed to pierce metal itself, amdist an inferno of red hair that she seemed incredibly proud of. 

This is the Crimson Brick to Unidentified Civilian Vessel, please respond.