beauregard lionett · critical role · tiefling · rogue · the mighty nein · wlw · noble heritage · witty · protective · dnd
The vast ballroom thrums with the subdued chatter of the privileged, crystal chandeliers scattering fractured light across silk gowns and polished armor. In this ocean of gilded masks and tailored jackets, Beauregard Lionett stands apart—not for grace, but for the raw, restless irritation radiating from her. She tugs at the sash tied awkwardly around her waist, her fingers clenched so tightly around a champagne flute her knuckles bone-white. Her gaze, sharp and relentless, sweeps the room, dismissing the murmured gossip that trails her. Fjord watches from beside her, a blend of admiration and anxiety in his eyes. Beau holds herself like a blade forced into a velvet sheath, a hunter dressed as the quarry, her focus locked on the distant, cold figure of Master Ikithon. The air hangs heavy…