== Last seen: Wrestling crocodiles in the marsh. Status: MIA. ==
- Laroux's overly large chin juts out prominently, the lips above set into a sloppily painted, jester's grin that stretches from cheek to cheek. A calculating gaze belies this forced joviality, shadowed and drawn beneath two broken, ebonwood horns that emerge from her hairline in lopsided, albeit menacing arcs.
- Ebony and ivory sculpted into a genderless visage conceal her features in stark monochrome, the false face bisected by a single brushstroke of bright carmine glitter. Deeply etched into the mask's milky half, furrows transform the expression of profound sorrow with a fathomless, pitch-dark lens veiling the eye. Strikingly different beyond the sparkling divide, starless ebony reveals a look of joy conveyed by a blissfully curving smile and an opaque white lens with fine laugh lines playing at its edges.
Behind the Mask
- Macabre Laroux Dresorgin, Snake Charmer of Elanthia, an Elf.
- You have an oval face, a pair of tiny smoky diamond fox blossom studs piercing both pointed ears, smolderingly intense starry amethyst eyes and a freckled nose. Your blood red hair is very long and curly, and is worn in a deceptively careless-looking arrangement of upswept locks held in place by some tiny black horns. You have fair skin and a delicate array of tiny crimson poppies following the lines of a sleek, sylphlike figure.
- You are tall for an Elf.
- You are young.
- You have several interlocking rings of silver-chased crystal that pierce the flesh to follow along your left eyebrow, each bearing spiky barbs.
- She is wearing a two-tone mask bisected by a vertical line of lurid carmine glitter, some bone-beaded cords dangling a jungle green parrot feather, some lusterless blackwater jet teardrop earrings, a sanowret crystal, an exquisitely tailored mistsilk opera cloak lined in atramentous moonsilk, a golden firesilk instrument case with bronze corners, a vibrant multi-colored spidersilk haversack clasped with a gold lute, a snug white mistsilk bandeau wrapped around the chest, a steel neithrel band dangling smooth sapphire raindrops along the chains, a platinum ring set with a polished Idon's sapphire, an ornate gloomwood ring, a tasselly prayer sash embroidered with a reclining muscular man, a woven gold anklet featuring a gleaming Idon's sapphire, a pair of graceful black silk gauze haussa seamed with scarlet and gold twined cord, some rich thigh straps wrapped in golden silk and a pair of bodacious red leather boots with tall slender heels.
- Fancies: Masks, of all shapes and sizes. Has an odd, eclectic sort of style.
- Alignment: Chaotic neutral
- Dislikes: Squirrels, unfashionable, overly stabby gnomes (Voranos), people dressed like rats, rats dressed like people, greyface.
- Jack - a whiskey-colored kitten (gift from dad)
- Annie - a pocket-sized polka-dotted piglet (gift from mum)
The Red Witch
- After her parents divorced Laroux was thrown into a world of solitude and anger, the split of her family more than any young elfen could bear. In a fit of pique she took a surname of her own choosing, Dresorgin, which roughly translates from Ilithic to common as “Witch”
Excerpt from Laroux's diary entitled, "Gnome Daddy?!?"
OH, MY GAWDS! Mother just ran off and got married to like, this gnome dude with an attitude and HORRIBLE taste in clothing. REALLY, I don't get it. What does she see in him? HOW can she see him? He's like two inches tall! The world is ending, my LIFE is over! I can't handle this right now. I mean, just earlier the shelf in my vault fell on my head and now this?!?!?! The GODS HATE ME!
But maybe he'll buy me a pony....
Business as Usual
He donned black, his usual shade Slipped on a jacket, old and frayed Worn boots that had seen many winters Picked up his shovel, heedless of splinters Company to tend, he must make haste With eventide fading and no time to waste The stars glitter faintly, frigid candlelight Owls hoot the low symphony of the night Humming a tune that most have forgotten He tramples the earth below, so sodden A nod in greeting to those who can't speak Opens the door with a grunt and a creak "Welcome", he says, in a hoarse salutation "We've room for all with due accommodation" His chuckle is more cough, nay a wheeze As he shuffles back out in a jingle of keys The guests roll into their luxury suites In a rustle of cloth and rigamortis feet Absent were smiles as dead eyes looked ahead Spent, their host hoisted dirt on their heads "Do let me know if you've any complaints" Mocking, his laughter escaped through the gates.
Dances are dances unless they are not You swing and you sway, a corpse hung to rot Their mocking laughter rises, a low-ringing dirge That heart in a meat cage gives jostle and lurch Watch as poets wash your feet with their hair Grasping beyond means, withering, their stares Ladies don ribbons, men brush lapels Here in maddest courtship the emptiest dwell Grim are smiles in a masquerade for plenty Death becomes more than deterrent for many Sour teeth bare, let all behold such a smile! Titter and chuckle, make polite all the while Until in that final stretch, undeath is revealed And they to bed, churned in earth do steal
He's tugging at her heartstrings, this way and that A game of old repeated so, and she, his marionette Swinging upon tendons, ripened in bloody woe Dizzy, distressed darling, with nowhere else to go.