[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/necCR92.png[/img][/center][hr][sub][color=darkorange]Location:[/color] Northwestern Watchtower[/sub][hr][hr]

Elio prided himself on many things; one of which was being a difficult man to catch off guard. 

Pain, sharp and searing, burned the curve of his jaw, like fire catching along the arc of a dry branch. [i]Finally[/i] – the spark he’d been waiting for all day. Elio had been expecting a swing. Maybe not at that precise moment, but he’d always made a game of goading and prodding, waiting to see what it would take for someone else to finally break. No, the punch itself wasn’t a surprise.

But the [i]force[/i].

Elio knew what Aliseth punched like, and it sure as fuck wasn’t [i]that[/i]. Lightning fast, hard as granite… and a [i]sucker punch?[/i] More oddities in Aliseth’s behavior that Elio didn’t care to examine right now.

Not when the little prick had just decided to use [i]magic[/i] to clock him.

Elio’s eyes were back on the guard in an instant, alight with anticipation as crackling ozone primed every muscle in his body. His fingers twitched. The corner of his mouth lifted, nearly imperceptible, even as pain echoed through his jaw. It fueled his anger, his need for action. Amber eyes met Aliseth’s stony gaze for a charged moment, the breath before a storm could rip the sky apart.

But because everyone was a fuckin’ [i]prude,[/i] they decided to put a stop to Elio’s fun before it’d even begun. 

Hightower, that little slip of parchment paper, forced her way between the two men. In the next breath, Elio was forced backwards in a chaotic swirl of wind and snow. White filled his vision – and when it cleared, he found Aliseth on the opposite side of the sage, a trail of cobblestone grey cutting through the layer of snow where his feet had been pushed back. Elio refocused on the small woman blocking him now, eyes darting swiftly over her outstretched palms, how she had her back to him, the way her voice carried desperately through the unnatural night air. His mind worked, adding this surprising new facet to what he knew of her. Maybe there was some fight in her, afterall.

And then the little [i]sapling[/i] of a guard took it upon herself to defend him, too. Elio was almost entertained. He could’ve laughed.

Charlotte hadn’t even finished speaking by the time Elio began to move. He stalked forward, eyes trained on Aliseth. He didn’t slow his stride as he approached the two women. Instead, without a falter in his step, Elio sent his magic down, through his foot and into the very ground he walked on. It shot forward, commanding the cobblestones directly beneath Charlotte and Eris. It was precise, subtle work. The stones raised and lowered in a wave that washed their steps to either side. The stones followed their stumbling footsteps, catching and directing them until the two women stood apart and his path was cleared. Elio’s eyes never left Aliseth as he stalked between Eris and Charlotte – he’d learned that lesson. 

[color=darkorange]“Neither do I.”[/color] His voice was low and filled with promise as he answered Charlotte’s reprimand. His fingers were already curling into a fist. His muscles were already pulling his arm back, his eyes flashing, the blow –

Halting.

Elio’s fist froze a scant inch away from the side of Aliseth’s head. The guard hadn’t even flinched. Hadn’t moved a muscle, in fact. He just watched Elio with those cold eyes, waiting for the punch to land. Elio’s eyes narrowed, his eyebrows drawing together slightly. 

The thing was, Elio hadn’t intended for this punch to actually hit. It’d just been a feint, meant to move Aliseth where Elio wanted as he dodged. Except… the dodge hadn’t come. It was like Aliseth [i]wanted[/i] to get hit. 

He was still staring at him. 

Anger suddenly swelled in Elio’s chest — frustration at Aliseth and how he’d been acting all day, latent concern over Zeph, the restlessness he’d felt that beckoned him to shake off the dust and snow and make everyone remember [i]exactly[/i] who he was… It all swirled together in a potent mix as Elio watched Aliseth, his fist tightening even further. But still, he didn’t move. 

Something wasn’t right. [i]Aliseth[/i] wasn’t right. The image of him from earlier flashed in his mind again, storming through the tavern, bags under his eyes, covered in blood that he still hadn’t cleaned off. Another image appeared — earlier, from a week ago. An indulgent smile that he tried to hide, rolled eyes, a soft voice. 

Something new joined his swirl of emotions that Elio would never admit to: care. Fuck, but he [i]cared[/i] that Aliseth had apparently gotten wrecked badly enough that it’d turned him into a little [i]shit.[/i] This wasn’t just a bad mood or a loss of patience. Aliseth was [i]different.[/i]

Elio’s fist didn’t uncurl. He didn’t relax. But slowly, inch by inch, his arm lowered until it was back down at his side again. His eyes darted between Aliseth, the damned [i]care[/i] staining all his other emotions and only serving to piss him off even more. 

[color=darkorange]“Get your head sorted, Seth.”[/color] It wasn’t soft, not exactly. But the words were low, held in the space between them. Elio forced himself to take a step back. [color=darkorange]“Before someone else gets killed.”[/color] 

Elio watched Aliseth, this new version of him that he didn’t recognize, for a long moment. Then he turned, putting his back to the man that’d swung on him mere moments ago. He moved, following the path he’d carved for himself between Charlotte and Eris. 

But as he walked between the two women again, Elio spared the sage a single glance — firelight eyes flickered, reevaluating. He held her gaze for the span of a single breath.

Then he moved on. For the first time in his life, Elio walked away from a fight.

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[sub][color=darkorange]Interactions:[/color] Aliseth Kain [@Dark Light], Charlotte Hawthorne [@SpicyMeatball], Eris Hightower [@The Muse][/sub]