Private Roleplay They say we are what we are, but we don't have to be

Devil, devil
Clever devil, devil
How quickly they do sell their souls
For the feast and the promise of gold
But devil, that won't be me

       Carbine once again decided to roam from the cobblestone tower but instead decided to stay close to home for once. She didn't want a repeat of the prior events that culminated into her needing rescue from a hole. She was better than that and she did not need to be a damsel in distress for anyone. Carbine, daughter of the Chariot, Orcrist, and the Page, Cuff, was not a damsel in distress and would never be one ever again. Did that mean not leaving her home in fear of making a fool out of herself? It seemed like that would be the case.

       But the green-eyed girl staying within sight of her home? Yes, that would be acceptable for her and she would freely do so. She didn't want to feel weak and helpless ever again and if that meant not leaving the general area around her home until she was of fighting age then that was what she would do. She left the safety of her castle and decided that she didn't want to go alone. She mentally went through her siblings, trying to figure out which of her siblings would be the best to accompany her on whatever adventure.

       Glamdring? No, he was big and bossy. Lucerene? Not the runt. Rosmarinus was too stuck up for her tastes. Narsil was too boring. So that left Vorpal and while he wasn't the ideal choice, he was the best one she had.

       Vorpal! she called loudly for her brother.

OOC:
For Vorpal. Dated a week or so after this thread

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     A chill creeps up his scruffy spine. The rest of his lanky body is curled in on itself, furled like twitching entrails in a space too small-- and yet, this corner of the family den is where he has chosen to shove himself. Ears, pressed tight to his still-soft skull, swivel out to the sides in a futile attempt to block out the sound. Thin lips curl away from clenched teeth, and he finally rises on creaking, stiff, spindle legs. He's growing too fast, enough that his already difficult eating can't keep up.
     Vorpal emerges, stumbling blindly with indigo eyes scrunched shut, cringing into what little light is available. "What do you want?" he mutters, left eye crinkling open. He's certainly not the worst of the siblings to bother (a strong possibility that Vorpal is the least likely spawn of Orcrist to maim anyone), but he'd much rather be inside.
     If inside is alone, however, he'll suffer.