Princess Cake

**Princess Cake** is currently event limited

A charming young lady with training fitting of nobility. Highly articulate. She likes listening to gossip but rarely contributes. Princess Cake is quite adept at playing piano, but rarely allows others to listen.

## Skills

**Powdered Sugar**

Princess Cake summons a flurry of powdered sugar, raising her attack by 3 points and charming the enemy.

**Rose of Thorns**

Princess Cake casts a spell that causes thorns to form behind enemies and rip through them dealing 250 damage plus 30 damage for 4 seconds. Also increases damage received by all enemies by 25% if used while they are charmed.

## Dialogue

* **Summon:** *"Greetings, Master Attendant. It is a pleasure to meet you."*
* **Log-in:**  *"Welcome back, Master Attendant."*
* **Attack/Formation:** *"Make this interesting."*
* **Skill:**  *"Hush now."*
* **Defeat:** *"Hm, seems my preparation was inadequate."*
* **Ascend:** *"Excellent. There is use here after all."*
* **Contact 1:** *"Can I help you?"*
* **Contact 2:** *"Music? I am familiar with the art, yes."*
* **Contact 3:** *"They're so predictable now, wouldn't you agree?"*
* **Notice:** *"The food is done."*
* **Fatigue:** *"How tiring."*
* **Ice Arena:** *"It is odd how you seek warmth and we seek cold."*
* **Idle 1:** *"Tongues are looser here."*
* **Idle 2:** *"Have you heard the quote 'speech is silver, silence is golden?'"*
* **Pledge:** *"..."*
* **Intimacy 1:** *"..."*
* **Intimacy 2:** *"..."*
* **Intimacy 3:** *"..."*

## **Bio**

* Bio 1
* Bio 2
* Bio 3
* Bio 4
* Bio 5

**I. Training**

I was summoned into fire and fury.

Well, that is not entirely correct, but for all that others liked to call me 'princess', there was none of that finery when I first existed. The cake I gained my name from was created by as an excuse to gather the nobles of a particular kingdom. They had all been involved in the plans for a coup d'etat and as the accusation was made, I was suddenly there as well.

After the ensuing chaos, I was presented to the monarchy. The King had little interest in me but the Queen narrowed her eyes thoughtfully and ordered that I be trained appropriately by her chef. I followed the chef back in silent confusion. After only a few days though, it quickly became clear exactly what it was the Queen had wanted from me. The chef that'd summoned me came from a long line of suppliers that dealt information like normal suppliers dealt sweet poisons. The restaurant he inherited was situated in the center of a bustling city. Everyone passed through it, rich and poor alike, for food and for company.

I stayed there for years learning how to listen, how to ask questions, how to read unvoiced whispers in a flutter of eyelashes or shifting of feet. I learned to speak the language of foreigners and dialects of commoners. For a long time, that was enough.

The chef aged however, as all humans did and he died, as all humans did. His son was better at cooking than he was at words and information trickled in and out of his business like sand between his fingers. It wasn't long before his carelessness caught up with him.

He was executed like a dog in the shadows between two brightly lit streets by a woman dressed in red, crimson, like the fire that'd licked at my dress the first time I'd come here.

**II. Learning**

I was resummoned to blood and desperation.

This new summoner was a deadly killer, and she'd summoned me by accident from what I understood in the few seconds after the blinding light faded. I was already bound to her at that point. She accepted me with ill grace, wiping blood off silver blades as she turned with barely a glance in my direction. I followed her because I was curious and I quickly found she has none of the finesse handling company, human or not, like the chef that'd first called my existence.

I learned, through grapevines and drunk nobility, that she came from the slums. She has nothing to her name and nothing to lose. The nobles took her in and made her into a weapon. She knows how to kill, in the efficient way a snake kills its prey. She understands how the shadows shift in response to light and the tic of a nervous man ready to flee. But she doesn't understand finesse. The soft, swaying power of well placed compliments or the lingering threat of a few smiles. They have made her body into a weapon, but they have left her mind dull and simple.

She doesn't know what to do with me. My instructions came from her employer, a pretty boy with a silver spoon in his mouth. He barely understands how his father gained his power; he doesn't know what to do with the information the girl is supposed to report back to him. The blood that stains her fingers are the results of temper tantrums and it isn't long before I see that others have noticed.

The whispers increase in the departments he is supposed to oversee. He hears none of them. She kills the wrong people.

They both burn in a revolution.

I leave them both to burn.

**III. Application**

TBA

**IV. Testing**

TBA

**V. Mastery**

TBA