Username: CyrCryKun
Name: Nandalia, meaning "fire" in Australian.
Personality: Cunning | Loyal | Trustworthy | Sweet | Determined
Story: Funny. She never expected to die this way.
Nandalia glanced warily towards the Makoatl standing opposite of her, his dull, purple eyes gleaming with insanity. Blood was stained on his hands and fur, and he had a psychotic, Cheshire Cat grin plastered to his face.
"What's the matter, deary?" the madman cooed tauntingly, taking one step forward. "Afraid of little ol' me?"
Dalia took two steps back, eyes focused on the psycho before her. She spoke no words - instead, just stared at him quietly. And this seemed to irritate him more than anything.
"Why won't you talk to me?" he growled, taking another step towards her. "Is it because I killed your friends?" He motioned with his tail to the corpses littering the floor. "If that's the case, well then, for your information, they started it."
Dalia took another step back, glaring at the madman who was quickly advancing towards her. She wanted to speak. She wanted to tell him that, no, she wasn't scared of him because he killed her 'friends'. Hell, they weren't even her friends. They were some pesky nuisances that were trying to stop her from doing what she loved, and if this psycho hadn't shown up, she would've rid the world of them herself.
She was scared because he wasn't afraid of her.
The male Makoatl narrowed his eyes and curled his lips back into a snarl, stalking forward and finally backing her against a wall. "Speak to me!" he demanded, eyes blazing with fury. "I want you to talk! ANSWER ME!"
Nandalia flinched as he leaned closer to her, his nose touching hers. If the circumstances were different, she'd probably be blushing like a schoolgirl, but that wasn't the case. He wasn't some flirtatious fool who thought she was pretty. He was a psychopath who thought she was irritating, and probably wanted to kill her.
The male glared at her and spoke again. "Why won't you talk?!" he shouted. His voice, Nandalia noted, was now becoming frantic. It was almost like he was...
No. It couldn't be.
But with the way the Makoatl was speaking, it seemed to be the case. He was afraid of her - well, not her exactly. More like he was afraid of her silence.
Nandalia blinked as he became more and more desperate, watching as he slowly broke apart from her quietness. "Speak to me! Why won't you say anything?! TALK!!" he screamed, now starting to shake. His eyes softened drastically as he realized she wasn't going to speak, and he collapsed to the floor, shaking violently. "Why won't you talk?" he said, but it came out more of a whine than a question. "Why won't you..."
Nandalia bit back a smirk as she knelt down beside him, watching as the older Mako shook. "...You done yet, mate?" she chuckled bemusedly, a smile widening on her face as his head snapped up in shock.
The male stared for a few moments, almost as if he were a deer in the headlights of a car, before that wide, terrifying Cheshire Cat grin returned. "S-so you CAN talk!" he giggled childishly, standing abruptly. "Well that's good! For a second there, you had me-" He cut himself off, shaking his head with a chuckle and looking down at the girl. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
Confused as to why he decided to interrogate her after threatening her life, Nandalia just blinked at the older Makoatl and sat there.
The male's smile faltered for a moment before he spoke again. "I'm Maverick! What's your name?" He then beamed in a childlike manner, extending a bloodied hand towards her.
Nandalia stared at it for a moment before reluctantly reaching out and shaking it. "...Name's Nandalia, mate. Just call me Dalia."
Maverick grinned and rocked back and forth on his heels, watching her like a small child. "Dalia? That's a pretty name!" he cooed. "What were you doing here? Who were those people I, erm... took care of?"
Dalia sighed and looked over at the man-child. "...They were policemen. Apparently I can't be alone anymore because of my hobby... If you could call it that."
Maverick tilted his head like a confused puppy. "Hobby? What's your hobby?"
Oh great. The dreaded question. Dalia had a feeling that this guy would be different - I mean, he just killed like, seven people without so much as batting an eyelash - but she still didn't like confessing what she did in her free time.
"I... I like to set things on fire," she admitted bluntly. "I like fire. It calms me down and I like watching the flames."
Great. Now she sounded like a complete psychopath. But then again, so was Maverick...
Maverick's smile flickered before he grinned again. "I think we're going to be great friends..."
{800 words}
Comic: Cover
Art: Bust ShotYes, if I am to win her, I am going to use Dalia in a comic with Maverick, my Makoatl whom of which was included in the story. <3 Good luck to my fellow contestants!