In the Nation of Durith - Pascal x SileceneAlethea

[Pascal]

Ka’liya put down the hood of her cloak as she walked into the tavern. It was a stormy night, and her hood had been up to protect her from the rain. As much as she would have liked to have left it on, she knew that market towns tended to frown upon those who appeared to be hiding. She exhaled slowly, something that might have been taken as relaxation, but she quickly surveyed the room, noting four potential causes of danger. Still, the worst possible action would have been to turn and leave. So she wiped some of the water off of her cloak and walked over to one of the last empty tables; she sat facing the room, with her back to the wall. A wench appeared, as they usually did, and she ordered some ale and stew.

Renward, a silly name for a market town, but it wasn’t like Ka’liya planned on staying. She was just passing through, always just passing through. It wasn’t safe for her to be anywhere, and though there was no bounty for her in this town, that did not mean hunters would not be steadfast in their pursuit of her, had they known what she was worth to some in power. She pulled out a few silvers and put them on the table for the wench, and would probably ask her for a decent inn at some point in the evening. As she shifted in her seat, she could feel the knives in their holster on her thigh. They were covered, of course, but she felt comfort in knowing they were always within reach.

Most people and creatures alike would probably consider Ka’liya to be a bit…paranoid. Though she was more dominant with her left hand, she forced herself to drink, eat, and open doors with her right. One should never give away their strengths...or weaknesses. She had knives—some with poisoned tips—on both thighs, as well as a few other places, and had actually gotten pretty decent with her right hand as well. Her long bow was strewn across her shoulder, but items like that were traditional for hunting, no one seemed to pay it any mind. She believed that it comforted others, to see some weapon. Most would assume she had others as well, but they would not think she was trying to hide any of them. Ka’liya could not live in one town secure that most people would not look twice at her; it wasn’t safe. For now though, she drank her ale and listened to the discussions around her.

[SileceneAlethea]

(General reference picture)

Oh, places like these were a million in one. He had seen this same kind of setting time and time again. Men came here to escape from their wives and screaming brats, hoping to drown their frustrations away in their tankards of ale or whatever vile drink that would make them forget for the night.

Sitting alone, he didn't bother taking the same precaution that the new comer had. No, he say tucked away in the corner, hood drawn up over his head, hiding most of his face. Had he taken it off, he was sure that he would have brought forth more than his share of unwanted attention.

No, not tonight. He wouldn't deal with silly human antics. Tonight was a memorial night for him. This night marked the first night he had been completely free in a few thousand years... and oh, did it feel delightful. He could feel the raw power humming in his veins that he had so longed for over the years, being bound time and time again by petty wizards and witches who had no idea what they were dealing with or summoning. Fallen angel or not, he was still classified as a demon... and like most demons, Adriel had a sigil of his own that he was bound to.

He couldn't give a damn about the mice scurrying around in this tavern. Didn't give a damn when someone daring approached his table, a pair of hands setting themselves on either side, "You seem awfully suspicious sitting over 'ere in this corner." The voice that spoke was husky. Words slurring enough to tell that hooded man that someone had indulged in one too many drinks.

"If you were halfway intelligent, you wouldn't worry about it." His voice sounded, silky and smooth in nature. Enticing like the serpent's tongue itself, that underlying danger in his tone unmistakable, not meeting the other's gaze as his head remained down, looking at the drink held between his hands.

The man staggering back a little, as if unnerved just at the way the other had spoke, "Y... yer not worth my time anyhow..." He muttered, wandering off without another word to this stranger.

[Pascal]

The man in the corner with the hood had been one of the four dangers. The second and third had been a pair of drunks that looked to be part of the town’s law-enforcements. Drunk men with weapons , one of whom was loudly professing his problem with women, were not people with whom Ka’liya tried to interact. The fourth was an extremely rickety beam that she was almost positive was load-bearing. The more people danced around, the more Ka’liya suspected that it would come crashing down on the whole tavern. It would be a stunningly uninteresting end to her life, and no doubt to the lives of the other patrons as well.

A few gypsies appeared from the kitchen of the restaurant. A few carried instruments. Most just wore clothing that was sheer in the places that needed to be covered, and covered nothing anywhere else. They weren’t particularly attractive gypsies, and the bard with them was…unpleasant to the eyes. Perhaps the last of the tavern was too plastered to notice. Ka’liya turned back to her ale until she was approached by the wench and the bard.

“Excuse me, but the show is played here, and we need your table, so you need to move.” The bard said. His breath was thick with the smell of tobacco and alcohol. Her face contorted at the stench before she leaned back and picked up her cloak. There was no point in starting a fight. She stood to leave and the two guards looked over with sinister smiles. She sighed, knowing that this was not going to end well. They approached her quickly, but a little shakily, and grabbed her arm.

“It’s okay Lass, you can come and sit with us.” The first said, and the second nodded. “Yea, my lap is a nice spot for pretty little things like you.” The second one added. The first glared at his friend, and they began to argue whose lap she would be sitting on. Ka’liya turned her attention to the rickety beam. She wasn’t sure the ceiling would come crashing down, but if she turned and kicked it, she would at least have a chance. In the ensuing chaos, they might not even remember that it was a purposeful act, after all, the tavern was quite busy. The only other foreseeable option was to stab one of them, or a bluff.

She turned back to the men and smiled as pleasantly as she could. “I’m sorry, but I can’t join you gentlemen, I am supposed to be meeting somebody.” She said. The men looked confused. She had eaten alone, hadn’t she?

“Well, lass, I think your friend stood you up.” The guard said, and laughed loudly in her face. She looked around the room, desperate for someone who didn’t look like they were going to force her to stab someone before the night was out.

[SileceneAlethea]

These dirty old taverns had always amused him... but as the 'entertainers' slipped out, his nose wrinkled a little in distaste. Such ugly humans, they were. Nothing appealing about them in the least... but...

His eyes having trailed after the group, he saw them approach the newest arrival of the tavern. The girl who had been so careful earlier in not drawing attention to herself. Those attempts had failed her. Watching her from across the room, the edges of his lips curved up slightly into the faint hints of a smile. She had a pretty face. A well shaped body. No, he couldn't blame those guards one bit for wanting to get closer to her.

But Adriel's interest had peaked. Wanting to get closer himself. Something to toy with.

"I think you have best leave her alone. This one belongs to me."

A cool voice sounded from just behind the girl, a hand coming to fall on her shoulder. Adriel having risen and left his table at this point, the tone in his voice daring them to challenge his words. Daring them to give him even one excuse to bring this entire tavern down upon their very heads. Oh, just one small excuse... and this tavern would be nothing but broken splinters and dying screams.

Killing meant absolutely nothing to him.

Especially not tonight.

[Pascal]

Ka’liya heard the voice from behind her, and realized that the voice was being directed towards her. She had heard it before…the one in the corner who had almost begun a fight with the drunkard. She knew before he even lay a hand on her shoulder that he was probably more trouble than the guards. But still, he didn’t sound like the law, and that was a plus. As a matter of a fact, he sounded quite a bit like the opposite of the law, which meant that if push came to shove, she could probably win without landing herself in jail and being turned over to the higher authorities.

The guards exchanged glances, both debating whether they wanted to take on this person. In their distracted states, Ka’liya pulled herself away from the guard’s grasp. “Thank you gentlemen for looking after me, but as I said, I am meeting someone.” She said coolly.

Ka’liya smiled and turned to the hooded figure, wondering what kind of trouble she was getting herself into. He followed his lead, unsure if they were going back to his table or leaving the tavern. Perhaps he would just guide her outside and they could part ways. She almost scoffed at the thought; Ka’liya was never that lucky. No, this man would want something. At least it was dark and dreary outside. No one would be lingering about. If she had to defend herself then she could do so without interruption from the law or prying eyes.

[SileceneAlethea]

He almost seemed disappointed when the guards backed off. He had been hoping for a little blood... but this works out as well. His hand slipped from her shoulder, his arm slipping around her waist as he nodded his head towards the door. Indicating where they would be heading. No one tried to stop them as they slipped out the door.

Who would be stupid enough to think to?

As they stepped outside into the night chilled air, a soft exhale sounded from his lips, "That's better." He mused off-handedly, "All that smoke filled air isn't good for the mind, now is it?" His arm made no move of letting go of her waist just yet, still walking away from the tavern, "Besides... it's a nice night, isn't it?" He spoke, but even though the words seemed innocent enough in themselves... there was something sinister beneath the surface.

A sharp breeze came rolling through, striking against his face, and in the same instinct, sending that hood of his flying back off his head, exposing what lied beneath that shadowed mask it had cast. Crimson colored hair spilling out, falling loosely along those angelic features, eyes just as red, the moonlight making them seem to glow in the darkness.

He was utterly flawless.

"Now..." He turned towards her, yanking her against his chest, fingers coming to grip her chin between his fingers, "I must insist on us becoming better acquainted..."

[Pascal]

The man’s hand found its way around her waist, and Ka’liya fought the urge to push it away, at least until they had gotten outside. He followed her out and noticed something. The rain had stopped. Though the ground was muddy, the air was cool, and there was a light breeze. As he spoke about the air she looked around. There wasn’t a soul in sight, which may have been good or bad…more likely the latter since he still had his arm around her waist. She knew there was something underlying in his tone, and mentally did a count for her blades. She dropped her arm to her side, so they were closer, definitely within reach.

“Yes, I suppose it is a nice evening. Thank you for what you did back there, but I really-“ Ka’liya had wanted to thank him and insist on parting ways. That had been her intention, until his hood flew back and revealed something immaculate, and very very wrong. She inhaled sharply, and cursed to herself. The guards would have been better she realized as he grabbed her and pulled her close to him.

His features drew her in, and Ka’liya almost lost herself in the glowing red of his eyes. Instinctively her left arm came up and grabbed his wrist. She would not beg. If that was what he wanted from her, he would not get it, and that was clear from her eyes. Ka’liya’s breathing quickened, for most people it would be the natural panic setting in, the fear of being raped and killed in an alley. For her, it was an act of anticipation, and distraction. Her right hand was already over her throwing knives. In one fluid motion she pulled one from its sleeve and thrust the blade towards the meat of the arm that held her chin.

[SileceneAlethea]

It was easy to lose oneself in the gaze of a demon... even more so when that demon had the face of a angel. Not a single ounce of Adriel's formal beauty had vanished... no... it had merely become darker. More sinister. Drawing her in... but then... there. He saw it. A flicker in her eyes, and then in the next moment, one of her hands had caught his wrist. Those lips of his widening into a full on grin as he watched the fight breathe itself to life in her eyes.

It was delicious. Simply intoxicating.

The next instant, a blade was sinking deep into the arm that held her chin, a hiss sounding from him as his fingers let go. His own reaction swift. He tore that blade out of his arm, laughter escaping from him, "Delightful!" He growled, his eyes wide and wild, like an animal who had just found the thrill of the hunt... and his prey?

It was obvious enough from the look in his eyes as he flung that blade right at her, the edge barely grazing against the skin of her cheek, only cutting enough to bring a small bead of blood to the surface, "I want to enjoy this." He breathed, tilting his head to the side, "It's been so long since I've been free...." With a swift forward motion, he pounced, the edges of his cloak fanning out behind as he came at her...

[Pascal]

Delightful…DELIGHTFUL?!?! That was not the reaction Ka’liya was expecting. It was the exact opposite reaction. His eyes were dancing; this was what he had wanted. He threw her blade back at her and it grazed her cheek with unthinkable speed. She had barely seen his wrist move before he felt the sting. She did not bother to bring her hand up to her cheek though. She knew what was there.

His words after that were a distraction. She watched his body language. It was light and joyful; he was a demon, a crazy demon who enjoyed the fight, the hunt. Her natural reaction was to pull her short blade out from the cloak pocket and fight back. But a part of her wanted to run. Not out of fear, but knowing that it would annoy him to no end if she did not. Her decision was made for her, however, when he lept towards her. She could not turn her back on this…man, not for a second.

On the bright side, he had not backed her into an alley before he made his move. He must not have thought it was necessary. In any case, Ka’liya would not have been easily persuaded to go into an alley anyway. She backed up quickly and pulled out her short sword with her right hand. In her left appeared two more throwing knives. One pressed against the palm of her hand by two fingers, and the other was held in-between the others. She threw the first knife, and wished she had been armed with at least a long-sword. Her weapon required him to be close, but he was doing a fine job of closing the distance anyway. “I think that we are acquainted well enough.” Ka’liya said in between breaths, turning to a defensive stance with the blade out in front of her.

[SileceneAlethea]

He wanted her to run. To flee. To realize who the hunted here was. Oh, he was sure she knew well the instant her blade had made contact with his flesh. Was sure that she could see that look that had lit up those crimson blood thirsty eyes... no, it wasn't just a blood-thirst... but a lust in general. He wanted the taste of a good fight. Wanted to toy with this girl like the cat did just before finally killing it's poor tormented prey.

Oh... but she wouldn't run. Wouldn't turn her back and flee like her instincts should have screamed at her. He liked that. Liked the prospect of a challenge. He had known his interest in her had been sparked for a reason. Now he understood why. A spirit not broken always beckoned him in like some kind of drug that he needed to have.

As the first knife was thrown towards him, he dodged it, still grinning, "You're going to hurt me with that?" He questioned, clearly talking about the blade she held, lifting his arm up and laving some of the blood from the skin... showing flesh that was newly healed, "You have no hope in winning that way, girl." He purred.

A blade...? And not even a blessed blade at that. It was beyond laughable.