Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20191124214112/@comment-5583506-20191126043948

Kashya was still down in the cargo hold of the ship. She expected that no one would come here for a while, which was good considering was she had planned to do. Lysilde would most likely put her under some sort of surveillance if she knew what she was up to, but she cared not. She had done this before on multiple occasions, each time taking it one step further in order to ensure the best efficiency.

The petals of the Syrabane's Dew she had snatched earlier would come well in hand to produce a toxin which would slow down the pulse till near nothing. She had tested it on herself on multiple occasion and each time she had pushed herself harder, almost beyond the border of recovery.

She considered it a success in either case. If she survived, she would have a new recipe which could be put to good use for indiscreet assassinations, and if she didn't ... she wouldn't even be aware of what had transpired. She didn't believe in direct suicide either way. It was better to leave it to a matter of chance.

With all her alchemical equipment in order she began to grind and pulverize the petals into a fine powder, mixing it with some already powdered Deadly Nightshade, before stirring it into a vial with boiled water. A few drops of collected Morning Glory sap helped to balance the two out. She didn't have the intention of ending herself after all. When she was finished the potion had turned into a transparent and healthy purple. The perfect medicine to ail a fluttering heart, or to stop permanently.

She drank a quarter of the potion before corking it and putting it in a fold in her belt. She then leaned back towards the wall, struggling to keep her head up as she began to feel the potion taking its toll. Her heart rate dropped to the point where it felt as if every drop of blood in her veins had come at a standstill and her head began to feel heavy. Her eyes rolled back and before she knew it, her body went limp against the hull with her mind drifting away somewhere.

If she happened to wake up, she just hoped that the rats would have left her alone. If neither happened, she reckoned that it would have been some sort of poetic justice considering the amount of rats she had eaten.