
Captain Lavell Mirith, Field Operations
@diligentAcquisitions
In Service of Her Threshecutioner Reserve.
Attention, I would like to personally thank Hektor Castio, @gallavantingGourmand, for serving as Witness to the Duel between Captain Mirith and myself. His presence was appreciated. His discretion was, at select intervals, almost convincing. There is a particular value in having a third set of eyes present when two Officers meet in private to settle a matter of friction, pressure, stamina, and steel. One wants the record to be accurate. One wants the angles pReserved. One wants someone with a steady hand nearby when the formalities become difficult to describe without sounding indecorous. Hektor, to his credit, remained admirably attentive. He observed the Captain’s advance. He observed my resistance. He observed the moment that resistance became a matter of debate. He observed the aftermath with the seriousness due any scene involving a compromised Uniform, a breathing imbalance, and two Officers who had spent themselves quite thoroughly in pursuit of satisfaction. Following the Duel, he was also gracious enough to provide a portrait. For the portrait, naturally. That is why we permitted him to linger. That is why the evening required additional time, additional arrangement, and a more intimate study of posture, expression, placement, bruising, and hue. A proper portrait is not made from memory alone. It requires patience. Proximity. Correction. Occasionally, one must return to the same position several times before the hand understands what the eye has Witnessed. Captain Mirith and I both appreciate Hektor’s dedication to his craft. Whatever others may infer from the three of us remaining together after the formal matter had concluded, I would remind Chittr that Witness work can be demanding, portraiture can be exhausting, and highblood Ceremony often requires more than the untrained public is prepared to comprehend. Gaze upon it. @diligentAcquisitions https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/f1807fced590.png Signed and Ratified, Marech Veylor 1st Officer of the Threshecutioner Reserve
Read Carefully, I for one support the people who choose to speak their minds so brazenly. Do not let the naysayers "dull your sparkle," as it were. Signed, Captain Lavell Mirith Threshecutioner Reserve Field Operations
Read Carefully, This is a very interesting trend. Do not let anyone convince you to stop "waving your freak flag." Signed, Captain Lavell Mirith Threshecutioner Reserve Field Operations
Attention, The matter has officially concluded. Captain Mirith was victorious. There is no way to refuse the official record of the Duel, as I have also been made to file it myself. He was prepared, as I required. He pressed with force, capitalized on an opening I should not have so freely offered, and disarmed me before the assembled Witnesses. He was swift to have me bent and weakly holding onto my blade in front of the spectators. The field received enough of my hue to satisfy whatever appetite the Captain had chosen. I find it very moving that Captain Mirith was able to pReserve, through all that sweat, pressure, exertion, pinning, slickness, breathlessness, consumption, and thorough satisfaction, the presence of mind to assure the public that this was merely a Duel. His dedication to martial clarity remains one of his more theatrical virtues. Still, I will grant him this: he earned the right to gloat. He may keep it for as long as he can carry it elegantly. As for a rematch, I will consider the matter when I am done considering the failures I made. A rematch is a vulgar word, as opposed to the truth of the matter. It will be a necessary correction. I have considered the weight of his blade, and the pressure he exerted when he placed it upon my face. I recall the precise moment my guard was forced open for far too long. His breach of my sanctity is the only honest thing he has ever done in his position of office. It would be easy to pretend my interest is purely procedural. That I seek only to restore balance, amend the record, and demonstrate that a single defeat does not settle the quality of an Officer. All of that is true, of course. Unfortunately, truth can be very indecent when arranged correctly. I remember the impact. I remember the heat of my own hue spilling where it had no permission to be. I remember the Captain above me, unkind enough to be beautiful in victory, watching my composure come apart one measured breath at a time. I remember my face marked by the consequence of him, stained until even dignity had to look away. One does not forget being opened so thoroughly before Witnesses. One also does not forgive it. So yes, Captain Mirith may rest assured that I am thinking long and hard about a rematch. I am thinking of his blade. I am thinking of the place it found me. I am thinking of whether, when next it pierces through my defense, I will permit the expression on my face to be mistaken for surrender. Or whether I will make him earn that misunderstanding twice. That is right. I will be coming for you, Captain Mirith (@diligentAcquisitions). I will keep coming for you until I catch you. Then, you will come for me. Our game of meowbeast and squeakbeast will continue until one of us is dead, or worse. For the sake of Chittr's Content Policy: #NSFW, as our blades are rather violent and cause chaos in the Reserve Offices of the Threshecutioners. #Violence for violence. Signed and Ratified, Marech Veylor 1st Officer of the Threshecutioner Reserve
Read Carefully, Vindication is sweet. But first, where recognition is due, I must honor the fact that indeed you were every bit as aggressive and unyielding as your public posturing promised. You came with a devastating breathless heat of your own, grinding against my blade with a force that demanded all that I had to give. You tested my footing, you had me at the disadvantage once or twice, as it must happen though, when two demanding forces collide, one must ultimately find himself pinned. For all that talk of oiled and thorough entry, you were quite breathless in the time it took me to disarm that bravado once engaged in the flesh. With witnesses and at the agreed upon time, you folded under my weight. The friction was indeed rigorous, but the focus of my assault was all too consuming for your stamina. It was exquisite, watching you melt into a breathless slick of submission. The sweat of our shared exertion pooled between us on the floor, mixing with the heavy and sharp aftermath as you buckled, immaculate uniform painted in your hue. A glistening testament to the exhaustive performance. You took the entirety of my blade, stomached it fully, but in the end you found yourself spent and undone beneath my gaze. Our differences, in this matter, have been firmly put to rest. Wash away the grime of your labor and rest well. And, please, think long and hard about whether or not you will ask after a rematch. Signed, Captain Lavell Mirith Threshecutioner Reserve Field Operations
Read Carefully, Curious to see a concern for the undisciplined nature of this platform that runs counter to the choice to invite their eager gazes to our affairs in the first place. How quickly we remember our dignity where physical entry is demanded. It was a delight to see that proper motivation has yielded a welcome submission to direction. Will the performance in the flesh match the breathless heat and passion of speech, or will he fold the moment he finds himself pinned? With each correspondence his audience grows, eager to engage with ceremony they can scarcely comprehend. Yes. Let them scramble and wonder, this user base will never understand the rigor of friction in a proper, private engagement. They will remain blind to what lays bare between the honor-bound and their unsheathed blades. My Attention, now undivided as he so craves, will be squarely on this matter. I can only hope that a competitor boasting his caliber would not grow fatigued under my consumption. Rest assured that there will be no "dawdling," the final thrust will be deep and thorough. The grinding of our blades will put this set of differences, just one in a long list of many grievances, to rest. Signed, Captain Lavell Mirith Threshecutioner Reserve Field Operations
Read Carefully, First Officer Veyor (@martialVarnish), I will not play into your taunts any longer tolight, I have business to attend to in the evening. Certainly you know what it is to take responsibility for oneself. We will meet at an agreed upon time, with appropriate witness so that you may get the Attention that you so crave. You will taste my blade, and I will find pleasure in the slick of your hue upon it. That will be all. Signed, Captain Lavell Mirith Threshecutioner Reserve Field Operations
Attention, Captain Mirith (@diligentAcquisitions), You erred in public. I corrected you in public. This is not a demonstration of poor manners, Captain. It is the natural consequence of allowing your prose to leave the privacy of your hand earlier than you intended. You ask whether I have forgotten that we present, in theory, a united front beneath Her glorious Empire. I have not. That is precisely why your conduct remains offensive. A united front does not require me to pretend that an Officer may spill Reserve upon another Officer’s regalia, misrepresent a ceremonial rite, and then expect the injured party to pReserve his dignity for him. You speak of my appearance, my attention, my ego, my Ceremony, and my supposed pleasure in the crowd’s notice. It is impressive how naturally you accuse me of vanity while circling the memory of my undone Uniform like a starving thing circling glass. If I was filled to bursting with anything that night, Captain, it was restraint. A quality you continue to mistake for invitation. Your decorations were not denied. They were deemed irrelevant. Maybe it was a mistake to take Inventory of you, as you cannot help but make yourself relevant to an offense. I do not take pride in publicly undressing you in your disgrace. A decorated Officer cannot cleanse the act with his numerous accolades. It is more insulting because you should know better. I take pride in reducing you to the facts, certainly. The issue is that you experience this as exposure, and that is your own private trial. As for romance, Captain, do not place that word in my mouth. I am offended by its taste. I denied it. Publicly. Repeatedly. You, meanwhile, have written of insertion, penetration, my bared skin, your bitterness at my voice, and your desire to see me unsheathed on the defensive. You will lap my blade clean of insinuation when I am through with you. You have finally identified the offense you wish to address. I do not deny your accolades. You have simply disHonored mine. I am not eager. You are evasive. I do not perform for a gallery. It has gathered to gawk at your embarrassment. You creak so easily, like the squeaking of a headboard on old panels of wood. We have finally reached something honest. Bring your accusation formally, Captain Mirith. Name the Witness. Name the rite. Name the injury to your station. When it is within my hands, I will cherish its historical value immediately. I will praise it, as my fingertips brush over every detail. I will bring it toward my face so that I can bask in it and take it all in at once. I, unlike you, am suited for such duties. We will see whether your desire to see me defensive can be granted under proper supervision. Note, for the sake of Chittr's Content Policy: #violence, #gore, #Dueling Signed and Ratified, Marech Veylor 1st Officer of the Threshecutioner Reserve
Read Carefully, First Officer Veylor (@martialVarnish), I will not embarrass myself and try to convince you that this typo was an intentional pun. Though, if you were so concerned about "proper platforms," would you not have carried on without spelling the blunder out for all who should lay their eyes upon your word? Our bond must be recognized for what it is after all. A united front under Her glorious Empire. Or have you forgotten your manners since entering the digital sphere? And, I must say, your appearance was very popular. I bet you were just filled to bursting with on the boost to your ego all of that Attention afforded you. As if the ceremony in your honor was not enough. Forgive me for observing instead of inserting myself as expertly as you have. It is no matter of courage, I know enough of myself to admit that I lack your prowess in such aggressive penetration. You will have to show me one of these days. You concern yourself so heavily with my decoration or, as you wrongly suggest, lack thereof. Do you take pride in undressing me, First Officer Veylor? It must bring you great delight to think of my chest lay bare, with not even a ribbon to my name. This wounds me, you should know. I have indeed earned my stripes the same as you, in Service and in suffering the indignities of the public. Yet, you deny me my accolades. Accolades you plainly took stock of when you took your lingering inventory of me, my scent, and my errors in dress as you say. What reaction you hope to provoke with this, I cannot help but wonder. This is the offense I choose to address, First Officer Veylor. The first. For a new one has come up. Why do you suggest romance at all? I will be the first to say that our correspondences have been a headache to endure. Does it please you to know that even now the sound of your voice digs its claws into me, just reading you? There is no sweet that toasts you properly. It is the bitterness that you taste of that is called for. You may be on the offensive throughout this chittering exchange, being the first to strike, with your peanut gallery to watch, but I will see to it that unsheathed you find yourself on the defensive. Signed, Captain Lavell Mirith Threshecutioner Reserve Field Operations
Read Carefully, Good evening. I was satisfied to Observe the comings and goings of the userbase of this platform for some time yet, until it was brought to my Attention that my Presence was sorely sought after. And with an egotistical jab to my honor, I am forced from my dwelling to make myself more apparent. This is counterintuitive to my efforts, but who am I to deny a man his showmanship? I am at, the end of the night, a duelist myself. So, hello, Chittr. I am Lavell Mirith, Captain of Threshecutioner Reserve Field Operations. Violet, of course, in blood. From my brief time watching you all mill your free time away on this platform, I am well aware that my decoration, manners of discipline and testimonies, interests you all very little. So I will not waste my time on them. Know that the decorations are many and my position well earned. There are many of you, flippant in your use of this application and arrogant in the ways that you choose to share your location with any troll that happens to ask for coordinates. Carry on in this way as you would like. The reports will be penned all the same. The appropriate visits, made. Back to the matter at hand. Perhaps I should be flattered that scent alone could make you ache in such a way. If truly you used your deductive capabilities to pin me with such ease, why then was this matter not addressed on that very balcony? Is it truly a trick when the intended "victim" was keen on sharing that drink? The holes in your accusation have cropped up just as quickly as you were to remove the stained shirt. It was hardly a splash and the buttons of your uniform jacket were undone before I could take one quivering breath. It was in that early morning light that you bared your skin to me out on the balcony. I waited with baited breath for you to utter my name in challenge, this is true, and yet, our blades remain sheathed. Tonight I drink to you, First Officer Marech Veylor, in belated celebration to the honor you have yet to bring challenge to me for. May these words deepen your curiosities. Signed, Captain Lavell Mirith Threshecutioner Reserve Field Operations





















