@BlackRoseSiren@c3p-0h@Qia@FetzenVellion Hurst
Outside Eye of the Beholder.
Perhaps at the temple. He softly offered the healer, still giving little.
...
People were coming and going, complete conversations happening around him, hidden in glances and unsaid words, passing by on fleeting whispers. Yet on the floor he remain, a solitary hand held outstretched in waiting, suspended in the air, ignored... like a beggar seeking coin.
Everyone busied themselves and put focus elsewhere, and for a moment he truly believed that no one was going to offer him more than a few words. That thought was accompanied by a familiar sting, or, more like a prod, since the needle of loneliness and abandonment had long since dulled its point after stabbing him so many times before and no longer could stab as deep as it once did.
Perhaps no one would take his hand, but he hadn't really been offered out for just anyone. Then a grin grew in the corner of his lips, barely concealable, a brief flash, there and then gone. Born from the moment he saw it in her eyes, that change, a resolution to conflict. Perhaps he knew before even she did, and then he felt her soft delicate fingers slide over his.
Like a trap sprung, both of his hands snapped shut tightly around hers. happening so fast. The touch remain gentle yet firm and held a chill to it, he knew not from who it came. He quickly rose to his feet with a preternatural ease, clearly not requiring any of the assistance he had once so eagerly sought.
He had seen the interaction between her and that man, the familiarity in which they had shown, the touch they shared, the words whispered. He saw much in that coming and going. What transpired between them also had an interesting effect on all the others about, information he stored away for later consideration. For now, while that display might dissuade most others, it only further stoked Vellion's intentions.
Hands over hers he drew himself to her, or her to him, it was hard to tell. Standing over her he now look down, his dark eyes focused deeply and solely on hers, seeing into her, seeing through her, searching for the cracks in her facade, digging into her truths.
One of his long fingers gently touch her wrist and from there he could feel her pulse beating beneath the skin. Through it he felt connected to her in a way he couldn't describe. It was as if every thrum run right through his entirety. Every beat of her heart a hypnotic call. The rhythm of blood coursing through her veins was intoxicating, entrancing, enticing. For a moment it was all he could hear, and for a long moment there was only that, her deep beautiful eyes and his hunger.
He was already running on the mere fumes of his burnt mana so the next bit took every once of will power he ever mustered. As he look into her eyes he sought that thing he glimpse before. A feeling, an emotion that he had been prodding at. That sense of claustrophobia, the feeling of being over crowded. He search in her soul for it and push on that, trying to gently awaken it again.
If it worked he could make her feel more crowded than she already was. It would help justify why he stood so close. Why his breath nearly reach her skin. His kind gentle touch becoming an anchor in the sea of bodies. It would also help him with what he was to ask next. Feeling the frequent gaze of many guards, Vellion decided it was time to get out of here.
"My lady." He began with all his usual devilish charm. He pause to breath in through his nose.
"I have never known a scent to so truly personify a person." He sniffs softly.
"Fresh with a flowery grace, a sharp indomitable undertone but with pleasant roundness to it all." A teasing smirk crept across his lips.
"Were one permitted to say it, I think I'd have to describe it as radiant."He close his eyes and breath through his nose once more, perhaps even leaning in a little as he did. Every pause while holding its own effect, also gave him room to calculate his next words, to read her reaction and adjust accordingly.
For most, the skill, or lack of, structuring and leading a conversation might make the difference between saving a few coins, earning favour and gossip or perhaps not spending the night alone. But for Vellion growing up on the streets, it was often the difference between starving for a few more days or getting a beating that would stay with him for weeks. For him, learning the skill felt like a necessity, it had often felt like the difference between life or death.
He had already loosely planted his intentions. Hand still in hand, he speaks softly to her.
"Do you have any where you need to be right now?"Do not jump straight to the end goal. Eliminate an excuse early on. Take your time. From his experience a 'no' was easier to tease out than a 'yes'. It was less comital and came more naturally to people.
"You know your way around these streets?"A yes response would be required to follow and balance things out, can't have a stream of 'no'. He would earn this with a simple validation question.
Then a rhetorical confirmation question. Quickly followed by a choice, granting the illusion of control and safety.
"So you could show me around?"
"Who would you ask accompany you? I would not ask you to come alone."And finally all would be nicely sealed and bound with a curious distraction. He lower his voice for the final words, almost a whisper as he offers his elbow in a gentlemanly gesture as though offering to escort her.
"There is no better time to give thanks to the gods than when in festivities. I would make a confession to them but in case they are not listening I'd have you there to ensure my words are not lost to lonely air."He allows a dramatic pause and lets his eyes slip away, offering a hesitant breath and a vulnerability in his posture. Speaking now with less confidence, a deliberate display but one that perhaps wasn't all lie.
"Why do you suppose fate offers us familiar faces from our pasts, is it just a coincidence, a test, a chance for a do over, to see what we have learnt, or perhaps a reminder of what was or could be."He was pleased with his work and the lines of social acceptance that he delicately push and balance on. While those words sunk in, and he knew it would give her reason for thought, his feet began to move. A silent invisible pain shot through his body, an intense throbbing hunger that now started to gnaw on his focus. It was quickly growing intolerable. Time was against him.
He had to get out of this crowd, with or without her.
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