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Author Topic: All in a Day's Work  (Read 80323 times)

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Offline Shae Dravenmore

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #25 on: August 02, 2008, 06:20:20 PM »
[M]   Markie looked up to him as he spoke, and it nearly broke her heart to see him that way.  "Kivan..."  She paused, looking for the right words.  What could she say?  What else was there to say?  "It's not your fault..."  And now it started to come out, and she looked down to the creature in her lap.  "I shouldn't have even gotten involved...  I stuck my own fool nose where it didn't belong, and got myself in trouble.  And you saved me..." Again...  "You never would have left her if I hadn't..."  Her voice was soft, but full of her guilt, and some self-loathing.  The glimpses of his raw emotion only built that guilt higher.  She'd caused horrible things to happen to the one person he cared most about...  "Whatever you want me to do, I will.  It's the least I can do to fix this."  Another pause, and a slighty wry smile.  "Besides, I already as much as signed myself up for this stunt when I came up with the idea."

[Ki]     His brows furrowed with confussion. How did he think any of this was her fault? "If you hadn't reacted like you did, chances are Keshayla would have died. Markie. That spell was meant to kill one of us, the water dilluted what ever in Keshayla's Crooked Warden's name that stuff was. Don't think its your fault. If anyone is to blame it belong to Felix, whom Keshayla had killed. And Japheth, who has her right now." He shook his head again, eyes closing as his hand reached out, cupping the curve of her jaw simply for the comfort that touch gave him. He was getting himself worked up, and that wasn't going to help him any.

     "Blames aside; I need you to look at this situation, know that there's a chance that everything can go terribly wrong." Again. "The castle is normally heavily guarded. It was a public place. But, since the death of the King and Queen, Keshayla's...ah, siblings, as it were, the place is only populated by Jaeric's trusted. When you and the others get inside, odds are that they'll contain you to a selected area. You'll be monitored, other magic users would keep a careful eye on you. Tyro is small. He can get into places that you and others can't. I hope that you can care for him while he tracks Keshayla for me." Tyro's head lifted with every mentioning of the name, and he couldn't help the smile once more. "He's rather attatched to her. Though, you'll have to forgive me. She wouldn't recognize him...shes used to four legs, and big brown eyes. Promise you won't tell her that I changed her horse into a Drake? I'm...uncertain how she'll react."

[M]   Her eyes closed partially at his touch; it was welcome, and something she'd missed in the chaos of the last couple days.  She turned her face into it almost subconciously.  She knew that it wasn't going to be an easy task.  Though she had hoped that she and the others would at least have a little bit of free reign.  "Maybe they'll give the poor blind girl a little more leeway?" she suggested with a small shrug.  Markie was partially upright now, having gradually worked her way up from prone while they spoke.  She lifted her own hand to the one that held her face, fingers wrapping over the back of his hand, and gave it a small, comforting squeeze before drawing it down to her lap, holding his hand with both of hers.  "I'll only promise not to tell her until she can come deal with you herself," she smiled gently, lifting her gaze from where her fingers twined through his to his eyes.  "As close as you two are, you should be able to discuss it like rational adults, right?"  A bit of a teasing tilt to her smile, tired though it still was.  At least she seemed to be back to herself somewhat, always smiles and innocent happiness (though that innocence had taken a severe beating lately) and trying to cheer up her friends.  Markie knew first-hand that being family didn't stop you from wanting to kill someone sometimes, and she was sure that there would be nothing civil about the 'discussion' if Kivan didn't want Keshayla to find out.  The teasing left her eyes, but her smile was still encouraging.  "We'll find her."

[Ki]     Kivan's smile then was just a little devious, a shadow of what it had once been, when he got Keshayla back, he was certain he would be able to switch Tyro's body back. But it went unsaid, and he simple nodded slightly. We'll find her... It wasn't the finding part he was worried about. It was what condition she would be in when she was found. Just as quickly as Kivan's emotional shields had been open, he closed the hatches shut tight, sealing away into that calm, slightly amused mask he always wore. It was easier, now that he had been able to unleash some of his stress to Markie. But new ones were growing...she was going along with the plan. She was going to be in a situation that, if she were to get herself into trouble, he may not be able to save her. It wasn't a prospect he liked to look at. "That'll work just fine."

[M]   She was a bit disappointed when he closed himself up again; almost like a small push away to keep her from getting close.  But, it didn't show in her smile, and only flashed briefly in her eyes.  She directed her gaze back to their hands, and then out to the little horse-turned-drake that still clambored all over the bed, testing out its new legs.  She was still hungry, and getting more so the longer she stayed awake, but refrained from saying something, lest it sound as though she were looking for a distraction.  Her stomach, however, saved her that embarassment by providing another, as it sounded in its own demand for food.

[Ki]     Kivan's grin returned, it was the growl of her stomach that did it. With a nod, he removed his spell after signaling Tyro to return, now that the important things that needed to be said, had been spoken. And after a moment, there was a soft rap on the door, before it slipped open and Klay's head slipped through. "The dear awake?" Kivan nodded, waving the witch in with a graceful hand before he slid to rest his back against the post of his bed. She carried a tray of food, things that would stick to the ribs and replenish her energy. The tray was set down besides her, with in reach, but not threatening to spill if she were to shift.

[M]   Markie smiled gently at Klay when she peeked in, and shifted up a bit more, propped up by pillows at her back.  Her stomach positively snarled now that there was food in sight, and with a soft blush at the volume of the sound, she began to eat.  It was a little slow going at first, her arms, and the rest of her, still worn out.  But bit by bit the meal vanished, her stomach seeming to be made of a bottomless pit.  But then again, a couple days without eating did that to a body.  In the end, there was nothing left but crumbs, and she settled back into the pillows with a soft, content sigh and let her eyes droop, a hand resting over her newly-rounded belly.

[Ki]     They allowed her to eat, filling the void with small chatter about the goings on at the Estate. Orders that needed to be done in the kitchens. The members of the Manor that needed new equipment, simple things for the two members, but perhaps alien for one that wasn't used to such going ons. Kivan himself didn't eat, but Klay had offered him a mug of what looked like a dark tea, where the halfblood sipped at his leasure. Her intentions of helping him relax wasn't lost on him, but there was a lot of work to go yet before the knotes in his shoulders would loosen. Finally, after a hesitated look indicating Markie, and a nod from Kivan, the witch turned the conversation towards more...imediant news. There were more members dropping out, not good news for Kivan but he nodded all the same, taking the names that were writen on a list she pulled from the inside pocket from her vest, and considered them for a moment. Then he nodded once more, not yet having spoken a work. The list was folded in half, before going up with a puff of flames that left behind only a warm wash of air, and a slight trail of smoke as the pleasent scent of burnt parchment filled the room.

[M]   Markie would have been content to fall back asleep now that her stomach was full, listening idly to the mundane chatter of the mercenary and her professor. It was a nice change of pace, a distraction to pretend that life in the city wasn't falling apart.  But, even that little fantasy didn't last long, and soon they took the talk back to business.  Markie continued to listen with half-lidded eyes, not interrupting, not speaking at all until after they'd finished and the paper vanished in fire, and even then she allowed plenty of time for them to continue before she spoke.  "Why are they leaving?"  Didn't they trust Kivan and the others to get them through this?  Or was it betrayal, like Felix?

[G]   He looked over the devastation he'd wrought and smiled at the smell of the ruined dinner on the table.  "Fraud," he chuckled.  "Death smells like blood and excrement, not onion soup.  You're dealing with a mad man, that means you have to find what has made me mad, and try and exploit that.  But, what if I was just born mad?  What if this mappy state is who I am?  Why don't you just come sit down and we'll talk a bit?"

[M]        There was a moment where it would seem as if there wasn't going to be an answer to her question. Both Kivan and Klay had their eyes locked, each making an effort to read the other before Kivan spoke, eyes still locked onto Klay, but gradually, they drifted away, back towards Markie. "A lot of our members are simple mercenaries. Hired swords, who simple go to the highest bidder. They have no alliance other than the coin that I provide. Normally, this isn't a problem. The Manor is known for their...subtle skills." This brought a smile to his face, and a flicker of grey eyes to Markie. She would hardly think that their first meeting was subtle, he assumed. "I do not allow just anyone in. Their skill and their worth are checked and considered. Not everyone is a cut throat. We have informants, teasers, pickpockets, politicians, smiths, cooks, seamers. Hal and Emma are fine examples of this. Everyday lives they live, but they all work for me. Some...simply want. And why not? There's a power threatening mine. The "Order" they're called, wish power, an iron hold, something more then symbolic. Those who want part of this choose to slip through the cover of darkness as if I wouldn't notice. People always want more, they are never content enough."

[M]   She considered his words after he spoke them, rolling them around in her brain.  And no, she certainly wouldn't count their first meeting as subtle.  Though it did bring a small grin at the irony of it all; she'd thought they were going to kill her, and now she sat in his bed, wearing naught but her undergarments and a robe, trying to save the one that had terrified her the most.  In the end, it all boiled down to a very simple process of greed and power-grasping.  Even her own little island in the sun was not immune to such a universal vice.  It just happened to express itself in a very complicated manner this time.  More of the shifting muscles in her brow and jaw that betrayed her thinking process, and she looked down at the once more wooden form of Tyro for a moment.  "Well...as I see it...they think they'll get more if they switch sides..."  Sort of like when the pixies tried to change color to get the upper hand...if on a more sinister level.  She blinked, and looked back up to them, a bit of a lopsided grin pulling at her lips.  "We'll just have to prove them wrong then, won't we?"  Of course, it was much easier said than done.  But she never had been very good at the doom and gloom.  It was just part of Markie's nature to find the best in every situation and to work through the trials that life threw at you.

[ki]     Klay smiled at the optimism. It was certainly needed, especially now with everything that has been happening. She went to collecting the finished plats and set them upon her tray. Kivan took a final sip of his tea before setting it down on the nightstand for now. "They'll learn to regret, sure enough." She spoke, smiling, almost beaming at her student. Kivan knew they would. But right then it couldn't come soon enough. But patients, he must have patients. Rushing such things led to downfalls and greater mistakes, things he couldn't afford. Yet, at the same time, his intuition told them that they had to hurry, at least with the first phaze of the plan. They'll know that we'll make an attempt.  So something would need to be staged, in order to distract Jaeric an his Order. Something that would normally be humiliating, where the others opposing them would laugh and think the halfblood foolish. He knew how to do that, but all he would need is the right opportunity.

     Rising, Klay loaded up with the trays and made her departure, bading Markie to feel better, and if she were to want anything, just to let her know. To Kivan she glanced at him, then turned her eyes to her path out the door which closed shut behind her. Only a moment after Kivan sighed. Calling Tyro to wake again he leaned his back against the pillows once more.

[M]   Markie smiled back at Klay, and nodded at her well wishes before the elder witch was gone.  And almost at the same time as Kivan's sigh, Markie yawned, lifting a hand to cover her mouth, and settled back into the pillows as Tyro emerged and stretched and continued his explorations.  She smiled down at the little drake and wiggled her toes under the covers, watching him eye the movements and try to pounce.  He finally made it to the toe-bumps, and with a grin she lifted the foot he was perched on, laughing gently at the small squeak and the clutch of wing-claws at the covers.  Another wiggle of her toes sent him tumbling down into the valley created by her feet, and she lowered the one with another laugh as Tyro shook himself out.  But he was quick to pounce again, and this time tried chewing on her big toe through the blanket.

[G]   Grater felt a frustrated wave of warmth wash over him and his open eyes focused around him.  "How anti-climactic," he sighed and turked away his handbows and shrugged on his great coat.  The found himself a roast beef sandwich and a bottle of wine and settled into a quiet corner and quieted the empty gap in his middle.

Offline Shae Dravenmore

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #26 on: August 02, 2008, 06:56:33 PM »
[Ki]     It was amuzing to watch. Keshayla did nearly the same thing with Tyro when he had made him into a horse. Though, the game then was still intermixed with a horses' instincts. And Keshayla often hid carrots on her person simply because she knew it amused the beast. Now, Tyro, being intermixed with a Drake, brought on those almost feline qualities of preditor and prey. The thing pounced and tumbled, and his watching turned to a careful study. He wanted to make sure there weren't any flaws. His carving, if destroyed, would also destroy Tyro, and he was rather fond of him. Tyro had been in his care since the day her took his first breath. He didn't want to have anything happen to him. So he watched for weak points; flaws in the wings, stiff muscles or joints, anything that wasn't formed well enough that would be able to be fixed. He only smiled again when he was certain of his work, and returned his gaze to Markie. "You're welcome to more sleep, if you wish. I'll remain here." Just in case.

[M]   She looked to him and opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a short yelp and a jerk of her head as tiny teeth and claws managed to bite deep enough through the fabric to reach skin.  She scowled at the thing and kicked him from her toes, and then crafted little force 'booties' around her toes before he attacked again, and he did, seeking the thin parts of the blankets and sheets to reach the body below.  She turned back to Kivan, and smiled gently at him, the mention of sleep making her eyelids heavy again.  "Only if you promise to get some sleep too."  Of course she couldn't know for certain that he'd hardly slept at all in the last couple days, but she'd seen the looks that Klay had flashed him, and she could tell that he was getting worn out.  If he didn't rest, he'd end up bed-ridden like her.  Though a small voice in the back of her mind, the one that had highly appreciated him when she first saw him on her first day of classes, was also appreciating the thought of them being stuck in bed together.  It caused her cheeks to warm slightly, though thankfully no blush sprouted.  There would be no explaining that one gracefully.  "After all, we can't have people thinking that we're both being lazy, right?"  She smiled gently, and stifled another yawn.

[Ki]     Sleep. She was right, even if he didn't want to admit it. Falling asleep had caused him to react too slow in rescuing Kesha last time. But what else was he supposed to do? Not sleep? He could go quite some time without, longer then Kesha if pushed, but there was no use in pushing himself. His staff was on high alert, shields have been places, spells set, they were safe, every demon within the city would take note to stay away from here. All but him, and it was that gold necklace around his neck that saw that his presence remained welcome.

     Shifting lower, Kivan settled comfortably laying on his back, head propped up on pillows as his hands folded across his stomach. A few hours... He could allow himself a few hours, right? It was time to put more trust in Klay then he normally did. She ran the house while he remained inside his room watching over Markie, and it wasn't going to change now. He knew she'd keep him updated, and if anything were to happen? What more could happen? Sleep.. So he allowed his eyes to slowly drift close, tempted the lower they went until they were closed completly. "That's a perk about being the Boss. The others can cover my shift. I'll rest. If theres trouble they'll let me know." Though it sounded more as if he were trying to convince himself, then her.

[M]   Markie smiled as he settled further into the bed and his eyes began to close.  Her own eyes lowered shortly after, and she leaned back with a soft sigh, letting sleep creep up on her as well.  Though could she really be blamed when, a few minutes later, she shifted closer, so that she used his shoulder as a pillow?  After all, it had been a very trying couple of days, and there was no denying that she felt safe with him.  And it felt like a long time since he'd wrapped her in his warm embrace that she was coming to like more and more.  "Good night, Kivan..."  

[Ki]     Kivan, the man who always had to have the last word, didn't reply. He was out, just as quickly as one of his drawn stelletos, which were still strapped securely to his  wrists. He wasn't worried about making a wrong move and drawing the blades, and even so, he hadn't a doubt about Markie, either. He was out quickly, and fell into that deep, thick sleep that was dreamless and caused his frame to be mostly unmoving, save for the rise and fall of his chest. Just a few hours, he had told himself. But the deeper in the sleep he fell, the harder it was to remind himself not to fade. He was exhausted..just a few hours.

[M]   She snuggled a bit closer in the night, but subconciously was careful to not weigh down his arm too much.  A couple times in the night the nightmares had tried to return, though of a much more mundane nature; fears for Keshayla, fears for what may happen to her when she went to the palace.  General unease.  But always she felt Kivan with her, and always his mere presence warded away her concerns, and kept her sleep deep and peaceful, her body once more gaining the rest it needed.

[Ki]     He didn't dream. Or at least, he didn't remember dreaming by the time his eyes cracked open. It felt as if he had just closed his eyes for a moment, blinked, but the sky outside behind heavy curtains streamed through the cracks at the top of the fabric, showing dust drifting in the beams, shifting in the currents that the heat created. There were no demons, just a Drake, curled up on the foot of the bed and sleeping much like a cat. And Markie, who had wandered rather close. He hadn't even felt her moving while he slept. But he didn't mind, that devious smirk was allowed to pull his lips for a short moment, before he forced it back. Not yet, she had enough dealings with demons, it wouldn't be wise to show her his. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her away.

     He contented himself with watching her for a moment, before another tug of his lips threatened to show that devious smirk again. There's one thing you should learn about me, Pearl. He had told her a few nights before. I very rarely ask, and more then often take... But not in all things. Kivan was a murdering, theiving, manipulative halfblood, amung other things, but he enjoyed pleasing the ladies.

     No one will come in... It was just them, and he so wished to feel those soft, shy lips on his again. So he shifted, so that she was laying more on her back, then her side, and so that he would be able to shift on his side and brush her hair from her face with his right hand. A curtain of white hair drifted off of his shoulder, tickling her cheek as he leaned forward, like he had done before, brushing soft, caressing kisses against her cheeks, her closed eyes, her nose, everywhere before they settled, finally, on those lips.

[M]   She sighed softly, eyelids fluttering only faintly when his hand brushed through her hair, turning her cheek slightly towards that hand when his hair brushed her skin.  Another soft sigh when his lips brushed her skin, more flutters of those lashes as his touch brought her towards wakefulness, and finally a slow, deep inhale of breath as their lips connected, hers pressing back gently as she crossed the final threshold of sleep.  It was confusing at first, that warm press against her lips, but when her eyes opened to a cascade of white, they closed again, a gentle blush sprouting across her cheeks.  But she didn't panic, nor did she pull away.  In fact, her chin lifted ever so slightly to press the kiss deeper, and a hand lifted to rest against his side, letting him know that she was awake, and not complaining at all about the manner she reached that state.

[Breezy]   She seemed to appear from nowhere, and at first, was little more that a floating green glow that bobbed and swayed with the curents of air that wafted through the great room.  But curiously, none saw her.  None, of course, except Grater.  And it seemed that, as she bobbed and floated lazily about the room, that he was her intended goal.  Finally the glow came close enough to discern a body within its light, and then the glow lessened as the tiny faerie settled on the edge of his cup.  She was much smaller than the pixies Kivan had introduced Markie too, standing only as tall as Grater's hand was long, but despite the great difference in size between she and he, she had no fear of him, only blinked with large, curious green eyes at him, cocking her head to the side as if to see him from a different angle, as though she were studying a curiosity for better understanding.

[Ki]     There was no hiding his smile, especially with his lips pressed against hers. He had hoped she would react that way, and she was rewarded by a simple sigh released through his nose. It was a slight sound, but it wasn't often that Kivan gave away to such simple, basic things. And that's what the kiss had been, at first: Basic, asking for her permission, innocent enough to be gently pushed aside if she were to find it unpleasant. But the moment her chin lifted he took that as a 'yes, this is ok, pester for something more and I'll let you know if I like it or not.' So he did. The kiss was pushed firmer, not innocent but it wasn't something that would lead to rutting and panting. Testing, again, before he would allow his tongue to slip out. Not yet, he was enjoying the sensation of her body waking up beneath him, and once more that smile was pressed against her lips. His fingers left the side of her face, and slowly made their way down, the pads of his fingers caressing the soft skin of her neck, her collar bone, and moved over to the top of her shoulder and down her arm, before making their way up again.

[G]   "You're late," Grater said to the little figure perched on his cup.  "We did the strange visions thing earlier." He looked at her and shrugged and picked up his cup, took a drink and set it back down, jostling her but not knocking her off.  He looked at her and thought a moment.  "And I'm not drinking Syggian Spiced Rum, so you're really in the wrong place."

  Her head cocked to the other side as he spoke, and gave a small squeek when he lifted the cup,  wings fluttering slighty to keep her balanced on the edge.  She blinked at him a couple times once the cup was still again, and then giggled, a sound that almost sounded more like tiny silver bells.  Then those wings were buzzing again, creating that soft green aura about her as she lifted off the cup and fluttered above him, to settle on top of his head in the bush of coarse white hair with another tinkling laugh.

[M]   A soft tremble ran through her body when the kiss deepened, and again when his hand moved.  Even through the fabric of the robe his fingers sent shivers running through her nerves and collecting as butterflies that fluttered lazily in her stomach.  There was uncertainty in the reaction of her body, but so far she was allowing it, a hesitant acceptance of his advances.  Though slow and gentle would be the prescription for anything further than the kisses that were warming more than just her lips.  He would have to remember that there weren't many people her age where she came from, so prior relationships would have been few.  Non-existant, actually, in Markie's case.  Kivan had been her first real kiss; nervous anticipation now wondered what else he would do that she'd never experienced before.

[Ki]     There was no rush, he was seeking the attention of her lips for now, listening and feeling to the way her body reacted with the basic and simple touches. It was the way she breathed that made that wicked smile want to sprout again, those slight shivers that made him want to laugh simply for the joy of knowing he had that effect on her. But slow and gentle was the way he went. Kivan didn't advance any more, and he didn't pull back either, perfectly content with where they were at the moment, but he did shift his weight, settling more firmly above her so that he was more comfortable.

Offline Shae Dravenmore

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #27 on: August 02, 2008, 07:13:45 PM »
[M]   Muscles bunched and tensed a bit when he moved, causing her to turn more towards her back, her fingers curling nervously against his side, and a small sound worked past her constricting throat as those butterflies worked into a mild frenzy.  But he didn't press further, and gradually she relaxed again, settling into the warmth of his lips.  Though it still took some time for her heart and stomach to settle again.  But, just as she'd grown to liking the feel of his arms around her, she was certainly beginning to like this new depth of kiss from him.  She liked it a lot, in fact.  And though they broke once for a deeper breath than could be taken through the nose, and Markie's blush still stained her cheeks, it was she who pressed her lips back to his after an experimental pass of her nose against his.

[G]   He contemplated her new perch and shrugged, at least she wasn't slowing down his drinking anymore.  "So did I get hit on the head and don't remember it?" he asked her then took another drink.  "That happened once, Purple Petticoat Penny, who only wore green petticoats in my expereince, interpreted the fact that I was crawling out of a window as a sign I wasn't going to pay.  She lambasted me with an unbrella foot umbrella stand and I landed on my head two stories down.  I was followed around by a talking sparrow for two days.  Foul-mouthed bastard he was I'll tell you."

[Ki]     Her fear was delicious, filling his sences with cinnimon. But that nervous excitement of hers was even more alluring. Soft, lingering, like a rose at the peak of it's bloom, where it tantalized your nose the most. He wanted to lean in further, to envelop himself with the scent, but restrained. The last thing he wanted was to scare Markie away, or to push her more then she would want. He would be patient, and would gladly take what was offered. So he continued his care with her lips, taking the lower between his own when parting enough to breathe once more, and allowed it to slowly slip free. His right hand worked it's way back up her arm, settling on her shoulder.

[M]   Another shiver of nervous delight rippled through the muscles under his fingers, that small shudder creeping into her breath as she exhaled.  But she welcomed the touches of his fingers and lips, and nervous uncertainty was gradually replaced by simply uncertainty, and an increasing warmth to her cheeks and kisses that wanted more, but didn't know what came next.  And now really didn't seem like the best time to be asking for a lesson.  Or to say anything at all, really.  Except for maybe that small whimper that was threatening to roll from her throat.

  She just giggled, as if he was the funniest person alive.  She liked this one.  She would keep him.

[Ki]     As content as he was for this, simple kissing, exploring and soft, gentle touches, he was tempting for a little more. Kivan tried restraining for a short while, simply contenting himself with the taste of her lips, her soft sounds, the flexing and easing of muscles, and while she became more comfortable with him. And he was content with all of this. But his restraint bent, and his tongue slipped out, past his lips to brush against the lower of hers. He was asking for permission, for her to part her lips and allow him entry in this.

[M]   It was surprising, that brush of his tongue, causing her lips to part with a soft gasp.  She pulled back at first, a small jerk of her chin, like a sea anenome when something has brushed its sensitive tendrils.  But, just like the anenome, when the currents prove gentle and it cautiously creeps back out, her chin slowly lifted again to press her lips back to his, mouth just slightly open, meeting him with nervous curiosity.

[Ki]     He thought he had blown it for a second, that his own curiosity of her reactions had pushed her too far and that she was going to tell him to stop. He didn't want to stop, it wasn't going to be easy, but he wasn't going to make up her mind for her. So when she gasped and pulled back, Kivan stopped, not moving forward to chase after her, or pulling back either as if having been caught at doing something wrong. He remained there, unmoving but smiled when she tried for it again.

     It was slow, Kivan went back to kissing her lips until she relaxed and felt comfortable again, before once more that warm tongue slipped out to pass over her lower lip as a warning. Then, slowly, his tingue slipped past her parted lips, seeking her own where it brushed gently, not over powering into demanding, he was curious, as ever, in how she would react.

[M]   She inhaled deeply, cautiously meeting his tongue, and finally that soft whimper made it past her throat as her fingers curled once more against his side.  It was a heady experience, what they now did and the closeness of their bodies, so new and yet so welcome.  Almost enough to provide a very potent distraction from recent events.  And Markie decided that she wanted it.  She wanted to forget the attacks, and the chaos, and the coming danger that she was willingly putting herself into.  She wanted Kivan's kisses and hands to distract her from everything.  He was already doing such a good job at it anyway, what was a little more?  

Markie sighed against his lips, a small sound coming out with the breath, and her tongue lifted against his, still uncertain, but exploring and testing, and gaining small bits of courage as she did so.  After all, one learned best by doing, right?  Her other hand lifted at last from the covers to rest against his side as well, and then both slowly slid around to his back, shyly inviting him closer.

[G]   "Oi," he said.  "You up there.  You have a name?  I mean Giggles or Greenie don't see right."

  Another laugh, and she patted his head, then took a couple handfuls of hair and leaned forward to blow a soft puff of air across his forehead, wings fluttering a bit to maintain her balance.  She certainly didn't seem like a talkative sort.

[G]   "Windy, gusty breezy?" he asked, trying to follow her clue.

  She giggled and clapped her hands happily at the last name, then grasped at his hair again when she started to tumble forward.

[G]   He looked at her hanging before his eyes and flipped his head back to return her to the top of his head and sipped his ale again.  "So what brings you my way, Breezy?" he wondered aloud.  "Because you don't fit any of my usual hallucinations."

[Ki]It was that soft sound, the uncertainty and ever growing boldness that had the mixed blood wheeling with curious joy. A man full of sins, even for the greater good, how could he not be attracted to someone so innocent and pure as her? He remembered his younger days, as rare of a memory as that was. Where he would spend timeless hours witling, doing puzzles, anything complex that would leave the mind wheeling with the information, trying to figure out its message. She was a puzzle to him, a complex thing that he wanted to figure out, as crazy as it seemed, her innocence was like an aphrodisiac and he found himself unable to help himself. He really should stop. After all, there was still so much to do, but every gesture, timid sound and soft brush of her fingers caused those little impulses of logic to whither and die.. How could he say no?

[M]   She wondered, briefly, if she should stop.  Had to wonder if this was even right.  Afterall, he was, more or less, her Headmaster.  Certainly her superior.  Was he even someone she should be getting so involved with?  That uncertainty crept gently into her kisses, but was swept away when he responded to the tightening of her arms around him and indeed came closer.  A lot of her other higher level thinking took a stumble as well.  But then again, she had wanted a distraction.  

Markie knew, deep down, that in all likelyhood this wouldn't last.  It couldn't.  But for now, she gladly gave herself to his careful pushes against her boundaries.  Hell, she hardly even knew him; had only met him a week ago.  She knew he was dangerous, and tried not to think about the darker things he had probably done in all the years before she'd stumbled into his life.  But, she also knew that he'd never been dangerous to her.  She knew he was a good man, at least deep in his heart, even though he didn't portray himself that way.  And she liked it when he smiled - really smiled.  The way he smiled at her.  She hoped that, after all of this was over, she'd get to see him smile like that more often.  

But, that was all later.  Right now, there was just the two of them, and a sleeping drake, and his warm kisses that stole her breath and sent shivers down her spine.  And her arms tightened around him just slightly more.

  She cocked her head to the side in contemplation, and then shrugged to herself and blew raspberries down at him.  Whatever her reason, she seemed to be as nutty as he was.

[G]   Grater looked up, his eyes crossing upward and shook his head.  "I got yer raspberry," he grumbled.  "At least you're not naked, that would just make this weird."

  Breezy giggled again, and settled comfortably in his hair.

[G]   Grater finished his sandwich and settled back in the chair, sipping his ale comfortably.  "That's the problem with this place, nobody knows how to conserve their energy."

[Ki]     He could see how she could be upset with him. No, not Markie, he planned on making Markie smile. He had to, even if it was for a little while, someone needed to smile after these events. He couldn't do anything for Keshayla right now, the first day, he knew, was the most critical. Paths could go cold, lives could end....no...he mustn't think that.. And luckily, he had Markie to aid in his distraction. The younge woman's feathery kisses caused things low in his stomach to tighten and twist in the most delectable ways. He was a womanizer, as Keshayla often said, but hadn't' tried any of his wiles on Markie, not for that reason.
     Large hands made slow, careful paths up the soft skin on her arms, just to they could find even softer, silky hair for them to briush through, clench, distracting his muscles and sences so that others wouldn't be tempted to take over. But it was hard, certainly not the easiest thing he's done. Every soft coo or hesitant touch only pulled at his restraints harder, until Kivan was nearly vibrating with restraint. His body gave one, slow shudder that seemed to come from his core before, finally, he gave in. There was no ravishing, she was already beneath him, and there was no pinning, just a shifting of weight, something to get further comfortable and say that he had no intentions of leaving or stopping. This was all her choice, he would push and explore and stop when she wished it.
     The kiss deepened, curious flicks of his tongue brushed against her lower lip, where it smoothly slinked past and teased along her own. He showed her, allowed her to get used to it, to test and prod with her own before, slowly, he took control of the kiss again, and took lead. Everything about him was calm, passive, save for the one hand that had bunched into the sheets, gripping them so tightly that cloth threatened to rip.

[M]   Markie sighed softly as his hands traveled over her skin, her chin lifting as they reached her neck.  And simple as the gesture was, the clenching of his fingers in her hair made her toes curl.  And that slow shift of weight had her feeling lightheaded and breathless, and once more a soft sound excaped from her throat.  

She followed his lead willingly, faltered only a little when he let her explore, and then once more he was pulling delicious reactions from her with his gentle mastery.  But she took courage from him, and slowly her own hands dragged slowly up his back to run through the hair at the base of his neck, letting the white tendrils drape and wrap loosely around her fingers as her hands came to rest on his shoulderblades.

[Ki]     The long, lean muscles in his calves flexed and bunched, all because of her fingers, which tangled deliciously in his hair. He liked that. He liked that a lot, and it was getting harder and harder to keep himself in check the longer her innocence found his week spots. A soft grunt escaped his lips, slowly melting into a soft, masculine sound. She was going to be the death of him, a shudder racked his body until he had to part his lips from their kiss so that he could take a deeper breath. This was a slow torture, because all he wanted to do right then was drop his hips, push her knees apart, and let her guess the rest, and no, that wasn't a banana in his pocket. Slow, slightly unsteady breaths were taken, and he kept his eyes shut tight as he consintrated with every ounce of his being. Hes never struggled so hard before, and it was all the more delicious to him.

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #28 on: August 03, 2008, 05:29:31 PM »
Having found their physical comfort, Markie and Kivan now lay together on his bed...

Quote from: "Kelz"
"Nothing is illegal until you're caught." Sort of a rule he lived by, but he teased her with it now. There was no awkwardness. He appreciated that, especially with her. Markie was someone he wanted to charrish, not tug on his collar when he was in her presence. The tweaked ear at his teasing made him laugh, and his hands shifted to her back, drawing patterns there with his fingers that made no sense or pictures, just an abandoment and excuse. As she settled, be took another deep breath, this time of her hair, which helped ease and comfort him, something he didn't think was possible for this sort of situation. If it wasn't for Markie, he would have gone barging into the castle in a blind, blood thirsty rage. There would have been a lot of innocent deaths, and eventually his. Kivan was a brutal fighter, but Keshayla completed the package, having someone to sheild his back for so long, and so suddenly withouth...it crippled him.
His hand curled a little tighter, forcing themselves relaxed before he released a breath he didn't realised he was holding, and blinked open his eyes to the ceiling. As much as he wanted to do something, she was keeping him sane and level headed, something that was critical at this moment until they came up with a plan. "Thank you..." It was a soft sound, just below a whisper.

Now it was Markie's turn to be surprised at what came from him, and her eyes popped open with his soft words.  Kivan was thanking her?  She blushed gently, though warm enough to be felt against his bare chest as they laid together.  Shouldn't she be thanking him for what had just transpired?  She forced a smile on her lips, uncertain though it was, and tried to diffuse her uncertainty with more teasing.  "Any time..."  Though, it wasn't entirely all joking when it came out.

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #29 on: August 03, 2008, 05:59:04 PM »
For a while longer, the Drow said nothing more. He wasn't someone who spoke about feelings, not even to Keshayla, though she simply seemed to have a sixth sence to that sort of thing. But, Markie was different. She hadn't made any demands, hadn't stomped her foot and made a hissy over being stuck in the middle of all of this. She didn't like it, he knew that, but she wasn't running, either. He found her bravery a stunning piece of who she was. "No, Markie... I mean it." Just in case there was any doubts.
A long, soft sigh escaped. The only clue that it had even been there at the begining was the tendrils of hair that lifted like feathers against the soft breaze. "And it's not just for this, either." He really wasn't any good at this sort of thing. "It's....going to be hard. Everything. Rushing won't get use anywhere...and I need you to help me remember that."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #30 on: August 03, 2008, 06:20:05 PM »
She lifted herself up on her hands to look at him.  To see his face, his eyes, specifically.  She knew him, and knew that she could believe his words, but a part of her just needed to see it in his eyes.  Eyes couldn't lie.  Markie looked at those grey orbs for a time, mulling over what she saw there.  More than just his gratitude, or his worry.  He put up a brave face, but she could see that his worry ran deep.  It would be hard, there was no denying that.  But he needed her help, and had openly asked for it, and for that, she could never refuse him.  He was her friend.  That, too, was in her eyes, and she hoped that he saw that as well.  Markie smiled gently for him, a warm, comforting lift of her lips, and she ran her fingers through the hair at his temple.  "Alright then.  I promise, any time you're within reach, I'll give you a good ear tweaking," she grinned and winked, and tugged gently on his ear again.

Her latest shifting had drawn her attention back to the fact that they were still rather connected from their earlier endeavors, and she blushed a little.  "We should probably do something about that..."

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #31 on: August 03, 2008, 06:36:31 PM »
His grin was wide again, brightening the Grey of his eyes to a shade that resembled more like granit, instead of stormy clouds. "Perhaps a swift kick in the keester on the occation, also. Help me turn in the right direction if I get lost." Her blushes, so easily coloring her cheeks, made the man proud. For a world full of such corruption, how could he not be so enraptured over her innocence? Kivan tilted his chin, capturing her lips once more as he shifted, tuggin upwards on her hips to slide himself free, only releasing her once he remembered that they had to breathe. "Scarelet is a lovely color for you, Pearl."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #32 on: August 03, 2008, 07:05:55 PM »
"I can definately conjure up a few of those," she grinned wider as well.  Their unjoining was slightly uncomfortable, their bodies no longer in the states they had been in before, but it was far from the horror stories she'd heard when lovers remained together for too long.  And his kiss was such a lovely distraction.  But she only blushed harder after he spoke, the color spreading from her cheeks out to her ears.  "Keep teasing and we'll see how black and blue looks on you."  It was a lame attempt; as if she could ever physically hurt him.  Well, she had burned him up the first time they met...  Markie ducked her head again and laid back against him, settling into comfortable companionship.

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #33 on: August 03, 2008, 07:34:54 PM »
It brought a crooked smirk onto his lips, the thought of her trying to leave a bruise... while Kivan would never intentionally hurt Markie, he knew that it could happen. Not now, deffinately not now...but there was a reason he was always with Keshayla. He needed an anchor, something to hold himself down, keep him...leaning towards his Fae blood. It was one of the reasons he placed his Glyph on Keshayla. It was why Klay was allowed to know his other half without the penalties of death. He wanted to rule out the other blood. Especially, now, since he knew how Markie reacted when exposed to demons. He didn't ever want her to know...even if she deserved it.
He was a selfish man, and wouldn't deny it.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #34 on: August 03, 2008, 07:45:59 PM »
Markie snuggled closer, her exhaustion catching up to her once more.  She was still recovering, after all.  It was somewhat amazing that she'd even lasted as long as she had.  But once more sleep beckoned, and she was disinclined to ignore it.  Kivan was warm and comfortable, and she had no cares for what lay outside his bedroom right then.  Hardly any cares about what else lay inside it either.  She sighed and closed her eyes, the deep rhythm of Kivan's heart lulling her to sleep.

Now that the activity and noises on the bed had ended, Tyro poked his head around the edge of one of the corner posts at the foot of the bed and chittered with a bit of a hiss at Kivan.  Seems he'd almost been kicked a time or two earlier, having still been sleeping when Kivan decided to rouse Markie, and had fled to the cornerpost to avoid being booted off the bed altogether.  He didn't seem particularly happy about it all, and was eying exposed toes with a hunter's gaze.

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #35 on: August 03, 2008, 08:09:01 PM »
He didn't move for a while. Not until he caught the sturrings of little Tyro off in the corner. The Fae-blood nearly laughed, muttering an appology to his little gift as it hissed at him. Couldn't blame the guy, it wasn't the sort of thing people enjoyed to be woken up hearing. Attending, certainly, but the little Drake was a third party. Obviously he was wanting revenge, and gave him a stearn glair and an 'ut!' to stop the ensuing pounce.
But, time wasn't on their side. As much as he wanted to sleep in, to drift off to sleep and explore Markie again... there was too much to deal with. He needed to find Keshayla. He needed to make sure she was still alive, and do everything in his power to save her. There was the guild war, Lucas and Nezca's deaths.... there were hundreds of students without a home, living at his Manor...there was so much to do, and few he found that he could trust. So it was with lingering regret that Kivan slowly rolled Markie over, onto her back so that she may catch up on her sleeping. With a liquid grace he left the bed, covering Markie with the blanket and set Tyro on the post besides her feet to stand guard: giving him a direct order to leave her toes alone. The Drake didn't look happy, and figeted as if looking around the order, but it was impossible. He had to listen.
He dressed, the blades finding their way back home with a practised ease, and soon the halfblood was out the door, gently closing it behind him. Klay was standing there, waiting for him. The look on her face said that she didn't approve, but she didn't disapprove either. "Is she..."
"Sleeping," Kivan finished for her, nodding and turned to head down the hall. Klay followed his stride, carrying a sheath of parchments in her hands. "What do you have?"
"Scrying isn't working... even with Kesha's possessions here, the links don't seem to be strong enough to bind her. Have you seen her room? It seems void of anything personal, no belongings. Closets full of clothes, but their your guises. No photos, no jewelry. No notes from family or momentoes that I could find..."
"Keshayla never kept any of those. Too many Magi were after her when she was younger, she was forced to dispose of things that could be a direct link. No photos because her family's trace was burned away....remember?" A fine white brow arched while he looked down at the witch. Her hair was white today, shoulder length, plane. He knew it was her real face that he was looking at. She must be as troubled as he. "Her...memories are the gods forsaken pets she has..." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. The sound was bitter, as if he found more pain in the knowledge. It was one thing he had tried to break of his partner and failed. She was too detatched to the world, with as big of a heart as she had, she didn't let anything warm it. It seemed she only lived with grief, as if that was what was keeping her living all this time.
"We'll focuss the Glyph. Meet me in the study in half an hour. I'm going to grab something to eat first, I need you to bind the room...we can't let anything out."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #36 on: August 03, 2008, 10:10:07 PM »
There were a number of people who noticed that Markie had been missing.  News had spread that another attack had happened, but after that stories got scattered.  Some said they'd both been taken, some said they were dead, some thought they were just hiding.  Nothing was spoken in more than a hushed whisper though, for fear of the professors putting a stop to everything.  But there were theories, and counter theories, and conspiracy theories, and a whole mess of no one knowing what was going on.

Markie didn't sleep for horribly long this time, only an hour or so.  But in that time, she dreamed...

It was strange, at first.  She was first aware of a gentle other in her sleep, gently poking at her conciousness, bidding her to wake.  But, instead of waking all the way, she only became more aware of the darkness of her sleep, and of this other presence.  It was frightening at first, but a wave of gentleness washed over her, calming her.  It felt like an almost fatherly presence, or perhaps that of a loving older brother.  She tried to call out, to see who this other was, but no sound came, and she recieved only a gentle impression of a rebuke, and then it was beckoning her towards...what?  She couldn't tell.  Demanded to know who this person was again, and refused to go any further.  She got the impression of a sigh, but also a bit of a gentle laugh, as if the person was infinitely patient and caring.  There was a brief flash of a face, almost like an after image from staring at a portrait for too long and then looking at a blank wall, but with a few more details.  She'd never seen him before, but she was able to see his eyes clearly, and they were the eyes of a good man, that much she could tell.  Again he felt the pull forward, and she followed.

It seemed to get darker, as if she'd fallen back to deeper sleep, but once more she was aware of herself.  And others.  The first man was gone, she couldn't even feel his presence any more, but now the darkness held shapes, and faint, garbled voices.  She drew cautiously closer, as though drawing to a window.  The darkness lightened somewhat, and she suddenly found herself in what looked to be a dungeon.  The cells next to her were empty, but she could faintly smell blood.  The voices were coming from further down the long corridor, and with growing dread, she walked towards them.  
Where am I...?  Markie stopped short as a scream rang out down the corridor, and it felt as though her heart was going to stop in her chest. No...  Please no...  The voices picked up, mostly a deeper man's voice, sometimes a softer woman's voice.  And the woman's voice was in pain.  And the more she listened, the more dread filled her.    No...  Somehow she forced herself to move again, but she felt tears choking their way to her eyes as dread filled the pit of her stomach.  It couldn't be real...she was just dreaming, this wasn't really happening...  She wasn't really seeing this...  Markie had almost reached the corner now, a little bit further and she'd be able to see into the cell...

Footsteps rang out from behind her, and she whirled around, her heart leaping into her throat.  Oh gods, she was caught for sure...  Behind her a man with short, almost white hair came stalking down the stone corridor, a snear seemingly permanently etched onto his face.  Markie jumped back, and with surprise, found that rather of bumping into the cell bars, she passed clean through them, and watched as the man continued stalking down the hallway, as if he hadn't even seen her.  He barked some orders, and then his voice turned sickly sweet and spoke more softly.  She couldn't tell what was being said, but she presumed him to be speaking to whoever was being tortured...  The woman's voice growled back, and again Markie felt the dread in her stomach, recognizing the timbre and, gods above, it sounded like she spat.  Markie slowly made her way out of the cell and back into the hallway, listening unwillingly as flesh struck flesh, and a soft yelp leapt from the woman's throat.  Again she backed out of the way as the white-haired man stalked back out of the cell with another snarled order to the one in charge, watching as he wiped at a spatter of blood on his cheek and stalked back down the hall.  She felt a cold chill as the man's voice picked up again, almost cooing to the woman, even as she heard the grunts of pain, and another scream rang out like shattered crystal, echoing down the stone, and even from so far away, she could tell that the man leaving was happy.  Brutally ecstatic at the pain the woman was in.

Markie's feet stopped.  She couldn't go any further.  She didn't want to.  Please, gods, don't make her look...
 You got her into this mess...  No...No, please...  It's all your fault... No!   Look at her!  Markie's feet moved again, against her will, and carried her the last few feet before stopping and turning.  What she saw nearly made her retch.  A tall, black skinned man with hair as white as Kivan's stood over a table, a tray of bloody, wicked looking tools at his side, another in his hand.  On the table below, strapped down at feet, ankles and neck, was Keshayla.  And blood...  Gods, there was so much blood...

Back in the bed, Markie had begun to shift and whimper, but caught by the dream and unable to wake.  Still watching closely, Tyro chittered curiously at her, wondering why she moved as she did.

Markie's hands flew to her mouth with a soft gasp as that terrible hooked thing dug into Keshayla's stomach, just below her ribs, and a fresh flow of blood welled up and dripped down her side to the table, and down to the pool of blood on the floor below.

Markie's whimpers turned to soft sobs, her hands clutching at the covers even as she jerked lightly to the side now and again.  Tyro crooned at her, but had begun to pick up her unease, and bobbed back and forth on the bedpost, unsure of what he should do.

She wanted to leave.  Why was she still here?  I want to go!  Please, let me go!  Why was that man making her see this?  She was helpless to do anything, a spectre in this place with no power to even make a distracting noise, if only to make him stop for a little bit.  But it was like a terrible accident, so horrible to watch, but she was unable to look away, as if she were tied to the spot and forced to watch the torture that was happening to this woman.

Behind her, out of the shadows and bloodstains of inmates past, a figure melted out of the stonework, a figure seeming to be made of shadow and blood itself.  Belatedly, Markie felt a prickling of the hairs on the back of her neck and up her arm, and the telltale tingle against her neck.  Her heart lurched again, and slowly Markie turned to look behind herself.  At first she saw only the darkness of the cell in front of her.  Then, suddenly a pair of giant, white eyes opened in the darkness, and a pair of clawed hands shot out and grabbed her high on her arms, talons biting deep and drawing blood.  She cried out and struggled, but there was no body to struggle against, only darkness.  Then whisps of white hair fell into the eyes and framed the head, and below the eyes a massive maw filled with razor teeth spread into a deadly smile.  She gasped, but her throat tightened, trapping the scream in her throat.  It was then she saw the blood dripping from those teeth.  It reared back slightly, and that maw opened with a hiss, and suddenly it was lunging at her...


Moments earlier, Tyro had picked up that something wasn't right.  When the blood appeared on the human girl's upper arms, he began chattering wildly, calling for Kivan, looking around for the threat to his charge, but found nothing.  Then, Markie screamed, a blood-chilling scream of absolute terror fit to raise the dead.  It rang out through the closest halls, dying off only when her breath cut out, only to repeat after a deep gasp of air refilled her lungs.  She was struggling now, tears pouring from her closed eyes, but still she could not awaken, and still her screams came.

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #37 on: August 04, 2008, 10:14:42 PM »
At first, and for a long while after, there was nothing. No light, no sound. No excrusiating pain from Japheth's manipulations. No bone aching exhaustion from shifting so quickly or the lingering effects of the spell. It was bliss, perfect, everything she could have ever asked for. There were no duties or need of responsibilities. There weren't lives at stake, souls or virginity in jeopardy, no demands. And, while the nothingness lasted, Keshayla allowed herself to drift and bask in the glory of it all. Maybe she died? That was certainly quick... Maybe she had really been dead this whole time, and the events of her 'life' had been that final flash before it was all over.
No.... No, that seemed too complicated. Too confusing. To lame of an explination. So many things were left open and unexplained. Like...where the hell was she?
There. A faint ticking sound. Keshayla felt the muscles in her face twitch, felt her fingers curl as if aching to touch something specific that eluded her mind. That ticking sound was something bothersome. It was breaking away the black abyss; distracting, as if this whole time she had been viewing a fogged mirror. And, once her vission was clear, once she made her own choices of what the blurred and fuzzy shapes were, someone was starting to wipe that fog away, showing what the true shapes were. It was damn frustrating.
She growled softly, head tilting to the side as if to shake her vision back to how it was, how she wanted it to be: empty. It had the opposite effect, and that ticking grew in volume, now a wet sound of something dripping at a constant pace. Her brows furrowed again, and the drifting she had felt before slowed until she felt a pressure at her back. She was laying on something, something cold, something uncomfortable and hard. Keshayla frowned. "...so hard..."
So...she wasn't alone. Why was that troubling? And that voice... it was a deep bass...familiar, comforting? Why was her pulse starting to flutter? "I try to stay ontop of you, to hold your body down. Your shaking seems to hinder every grasp that I have found..." No... they weren't speaking. Someone was singing softly, someone was near her, singing...and something was dripping. "....for your mouth, so that when you bite you will not bleed."
Then... discomfort at first. Enough to make her try and shift, to move out of the way. Nothing helped, and that sensation was growing. Discomfort, a soft throbbing, then aching, and last, it began to burn intensley. Everything returned in a flash. Keshayla remembered the students, the death of the only family she had left, Felix's betrayal, The fight...the spell... the sence of dispair when she caught sight of Kivan returning for her, too late. Too late...always too late.
Her eyes opened, unfocussed in the dimly lit room, but vision was returning, and that pain was growing until sounds began to break free, and Keshayla hurt more badly then she could remember. It brought a gasp to her lips, because her throat was too tight and dry to make much more of a sound.  And here, blinking, the singing slowed to a stop, and dark shifted in the dark, and a face loomed before her. He smiled, dazzling white teeth in the gloom, and it was friendly. "Lass, fret not. In good hands, you are..."


Kivan's breath heaved out in a heavy sigh. The sound was smooth, even coming from a tightening throat, and the only signs of tremble were hidden when his hands were burried in his hair. He was at a loss, and the books and parchments scattered about his desk were of no use. Lost....or stolen? Where are they? Keshayla's Glyph was something kept secret. The only other who knew of it, since the royal family was now deceased, was Klay. But, he knew, she would't have taken them. She didn't know of them....
The giant oak table was kicked over, his shout was loud and long, frustration, fear of his partner, the utter hopelessness of the situtation, it was all exhaled in that loud note to the empty study. He didn't care if others heard him. He didn't care if he was supposed to keep the calm facade so that others could feel at ease. The only thing, at that moment, that he cared about, was gods know where. Parchment and books were scattered about the room, the sheafs of paper drifting through the air like leaves from a branches high over head, until they settled on the ground. The Fae blood turned around, away from the desk to see Klay standing there, frowning softly but looking away. "You're late.." The words were spoken through clentched teeth, and anger caused his grey eyes to begin shifting in hue, just a shade more orange. "Only a moment... Some of the students were worried that they haven't recieved word from their parents yet..." Another item for his list. Kivan only spat air while he moved past the Magi, towards the many rows of books in their shelves. "I want the map of the castle, and it's grounds. Illuminate it for me, I don't want just the bird's eye view. Get the twins here as well. They're going to scout the streets for me at the Dock district. If anyone so much as spits the word about her, I want to hear about it."


Keshayla's brows furrowed, and the recognition was startling in the gloom of things. His face was handsome, finely chizzled, ashy dark skin that seemed almost flawless beneath the candle light. His hair was long, braided back thickly and held high on his head for it to cascade down and around his shoulders. Women were often jealous of this Drow's hair, it was as fine as silk, shimmering softly, almost ethereal in the dank of the prison. And where else would Keshayla be, but a prison? And here...with him."Gauss..?"
The Drow smiled again, and it wasn't until his hands had shifted that she remembered the pain. Keshayla's grunt was cut off when his large hand pressed against her mouth, and soothing shoosh whispered in the air. "You'll be safe with me. Soon as I heard, I couldn't refuse. Caught in another web, Mine? It's sticky and thick, but I'll help you, you know." Another wince, and a sharp inhale; which had been a bad mistake. The smell of blood was thick in the air, and Keshayla was bount, hands over head, feet and neck restrained so that the best she could do was wryth her back. That dripping sound, was the blood that was coiling down her fingers, splatting against the cold stone floor that the Drow stood on. She didn't know if she was relieved to see Gauss....as much of a friend as the Drow would allow, he and she had...an interesting past. "What...are you..?" Her words were thick in her throat yet again, and she tried swallowing the taste of blood. It was sickening. It was heavy in the air, sticky against her skin, and thick on her tongue. Keshayla had to fight the urge to wretch. "A show, you know? He's coming down shortly. He's very angry with you, Mine. But pleased...very pleased for now. I will play this carefully. But you have to scream for me, Love. Break my heart with your pain." She wasn't certain if she understood yet, but there wasn't time to ask questions. Footsteps sounded down the hall. Their pace was fast, excited, and the wind coming down the tunnel filled her nose with the scent of burnt amber through the blood.
Gauss had moved again, and the skin in her stomach, above the navel was pierced by a hooked tool that went too blurry to recognize. Keshayla allowed a short cry to escape, choking back a gasping breath before white hair made itself know in the corner of her eye. Jaeric was coming.


"Useless..." Another book was tossed off of the pile, landing on the ground with it's spine open, displaying faded pages with wide, foreign letters in a dead language. The book besides it was examined a moment, before it was tossed as well. He was finding nothing.
An odd sensation followed, like a buzzing in his ears and unseen hands creeping up his spine. He hadn't felt that sensation in a long time, and for a moment, so wrapped up in his thoughts and inner hate, he wasn't sure what it was. The frown deepened then, and an outstretched hand that was seeking another book stopped once his body stiffened. All the growing orange in his eyes died like a flame, and Kivan was pivoting towards the door, muttering out a name in worry. "Markie..."


"Move! Step aside! I want to see her!" Jaeric's ignorant face appeared sooner then the Lycan would have liked. Murder burned brightly in his eyes, causing his chest to heave in the excitement of the thought, and eager hands gripped the edge of the table she was bound to. They seemed to specificaly seek the blood that was pooling freely from the multiple wounds on her skin, some already in phases of healing with her natural tallents. "Keshayla West... dear cousin... I warned you long ago what would happen to you, if you were ever in my hands..." Keshayla spat in his face, the blood that she had been tasting earlier had been clots, which not began to slide off the side of his cheek. "Don't think...for one second...you can take any credit...for this!" Her voice trembled from the pain, but if her voice sounded weak, the furry in her eyes was enough to make up for it.
Jaeric wiped at his face with disgust, before that same hand pulled back in a fist, the sharp impact of flesh on flesh, at first, was the only thing that registered, before she really screamed this time. He had punched right where the hook of the blade had been, digging it deeper into her insides until dark blood rose, turning the air more acrid. "Cousin...dear cousin. I won't kill you. Not yet, you have to face the people first. A week until your trial. You'll be begging for the end, and you will never have it. Do you understand me, cousin?" His hand slapped her cheek, followed by a second as excited blood thirst encouraged him. Jaeric pivoted then, turning to leave with blood stained hands, "I want to hear her screaming in the halls! Not a moment of silence from her, Drow." He spat the word out like a curse, and then stormed out the way he had come.


"Markie!" Kivan's voice rang out loud, the door to his room opened an a rain of splinters and wood as the Fae blood entered. He had heard her screams in the hall, heard them just as if they were from the night before. But these screams held a different level of terror, one that sounded as if it would break her mind as well as her body. He ran as fast as his person could, and Tyro scurried out of the way as he lept over the edge of the bed to land besides her. Kivan had her in his arms in that instant, while Klay finally entered through the door. "Ugh!" She made a sound of disgust, pinching her nose at the sharp scent of rotten eggs and burnt amber. Deamons? But she didn't see anything, just the growing blood on her arms. "Klay!"
"An apperition? Perhaps her dreams again? I don't know!"
Kivan scowled, yelling Markie's name in an attempt to wake her, and looked over his shoulder to Klay who was approaching the other side of the bed. She joined them on the other side, lips moving in a blurr, the words spoke so fast it was like a kick in Kivan's stomach. She was purifying the room, just as she had done the tavern, and the smell of rotten eggs began to drift away. Kivan didn't like feeling helpless. As if his partner's kidnapping wasn't bad enough, now Markie's tortured dreams....how could he follow her there? How could he protect anyone? "Markie!"
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #38 on: August 04, 2008, 10:39:49 PM »
Somehow...somehow, she'd flung her arms up, caught the thing around the neck.  Hear ears heard screaming, but, she wasn't sure if it was her own, or Keshayla's.  Maybe they were both screaming.  The demon gnashed its teeth at her and dug it's claws in deeper, struggling to sink those fangs into her flesh, and now Markie was sure that at least she was screaming.  Her arms almost burned with pain, and the ache in her neck was nearing unbearable.

On the bed, Markie's screams continued, unfettered by Kivan's grasp or Klay's purifications.  The blood oozed down her arms to the sheets below.  Under the choker, the scar on her neck was a furious red, the color of festering flesh, on the verge of breaking the skin and bleeding once more.

Suddenly, he was back.  That other.  The one that had brought her here in the first place.  There were no voices, no shouts, but she could feel him crying out for her, rushing towards where she fought off the demon.  He felt weaker though, as though a great amount of energy had been spent.  But he was with her, grasping at her from behind, pulling her from the grasp of the demon with a great force of will.  She felt the claws rip through her skin as its hold was broken, and a furious cry echoed in her mind as it pursued.

As in her vision, the holes in her arms suddenly tore into great bloody rents in her flesh, but still no physical attacker could be found.  

They were rushing then, flying, the man fleeing with her from the danger.  But still the demon chased.  It nearly caught them, reached out with its bloody hand, and closed around her ankle, but the grasp was fleeting, slipped, and so only tore long lines of blood in her leg, from half-way to the knee down to the pad of her heel.  And then it was as though she were pushed.  No, thrown.  Forced with such energy back to her wakeful senses, that at first, when her eyes opened to the room once more with a shuddering gasp, she was stunned into silence.

The silence was short lived, though.  Her confused mind felt hands around her, and saw white hair, and the terror returned, and she struggled.  She fought for all she was worth, screaming with such terror that her voice had begun to fail.

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #39 on: August 04, 2008, 10:51:26 PM »
"Markie! Markie, it's Klay. Honey! Open your eyes!"
It was infuriating, how useless he was in this situation. He understood now, why Keshayla hated fighting magic. How can you fight something you can't see? Can't physically touch? Give me a solid any day, and I'll show you how well aquainted with my blade I am.... Those were her words, he had only smirked then, but it was exactly right. Whatever was doing this to Markie, he wanted to kill it. No...death wouldn't be enough. He wanted it's soul and essance to call his own. He wanted to own it.
Blood was coming from wounds caused by unseen tallons, coiling around her ivory skin like snakes. Kivan' breathed in her ear, trying to coax and sooth her while his hands wrapped around the wounds to ease the bleeding. The two tried their best, truely, they did, but...in this....
Then her eyes opened, there was silence, and Kivan had a sigh half way out of his lips with relief before her struggles began. "Markie! It's me! Open your eyes! It's me, Kivan!" It wasn't hard to keep her against the bed, but still she struggled enough, and he was more wooried about her getting hurt, then actually putting her in a death grip. Klay tried again. "Markie, it's gone, you're safe now!"
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #40 on: August 04, 2008, 11:16:15 PM »
Still she fought against the strong hands holding her down, thrashed legs against the weight that sat on them.  In all her life, even with all the horrors she'd faced in the time since coming to school, she'd never been so afraid for her life.  No, not just for her life.  That thing wanted to consume her soul...  Her terror rolled off her in waves, no longer the sweet cinnamonthat Kivan and Keshayla loved to tease her about, but rather a sickly sweet smell, like putrid fruit or festering flesh.  Her wounds stung, and the more she struggled, the more the covers rubbed against them, the more it hurt.  Her screams began to be broken more and more by sobs, and slowly their voices broke through the haze of her fear.  She heard Klay, the motherly older woman, calling for her, sweet supplications of safety.  And then Kivan, his voice so afraid.  Even if Klay didn't hear it, she did.  Kivan was afraid for her, she knew it.  Her screams metled into sobs as the fog left her mind entirely, and she stopping fighting him, and now reached for him, desperate for his strength and his protection, wanting only to be wrapped up tight in his arms and crushed in his embrace.  Her sobs were pitious things that wracked her chest, and she shook visibly in the aftermath of the ordeal, her eyes blinded by the tears that continued to fall.

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #41 on: August 04, 2008, 11:24:22 PM »
Kivan didn't even hesitate. The moment Markie was loose enough to bend, when she wasn't fighting, he curled her into his lap, almost folding himself around her. Her face was shielded by the silk of his hair, his voice once more murmering in that dead language in her ears. He promised her things, things he wasn't sure he could keep. No more, he wouldn't allow them to haunt her dreams any more. He spoke about how he was sorry, that she deserved better then this, and he would make it go away. Lies. He wasnt sure what the hell to do, but the language was beautiful, soothing, almost elvish. He didn't want her to hurt any more.
Klay left the room in a rush, but only for a moment, returning with a basin of water, and fresh towels. Prying Markie from Kivan's arms would be impossible. So she settled with taking one of her legs first, doing what she could to stop the bleeding, and clean it with purified water. She could take an easy guess on what had happened, now that the shock was over, but still her eyes were wide, and she felt a little spooked about the growing shadows of the room. "Markie...My Pearl, what happened. Tell me what happened."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #42 on: August 04, 2008, 11:44:09 PM »
Markie's eyes, too, were wide.  Unblinking.  Too terrified of what had attacked her in the darkness to even risk blinking for an instant.  She clutched tightly to him, sobbing, aching all over.  Make it stop...she wanted him to make it stop...  Make them stop hurting her...  Why her?  It wasn't fair...

It took some coaxing until she was even calm enough to form syllables between sobs, but slowly she began to tell them what had happened.  Of the presence, and the flash of the face; the details of his appearance when they asked, though it was hard to make out much of the fine detail.  That he'd taken her to a dungeon.  Her sobs began anew when she tried to tell them about Keshayla, her shaking visible even to Klay who tended to her leg.  She tried several times to tell them, but fell into sobs each time.  Markie still felt miserably guilty about what had happened to Keshayla.  She wouldn't forgive herself until she knew the lycan woman was safe again.  "Gods...they're killing her!"  And again more sobs, more coaxing to get her to continue.  In the end, she'd told them everything she could remember; the dark elf and the tools he used on Keshayla, the white-haired man that had come and gone, and the demon, the retelling of which sent her shaking so hard, they might have feared she was having a seizure.

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #43 on: August 04, 2008, 11:58:54 PM »
Kivan's groan was low, a tortured sound, and the only thing that was keeping him in that spot right then was Markie. It was a good thing that Klay was there, he wasn't certain if he'd be able to clean her wounds, his hold was that strong, and her trembling passed through her body and into his as if they were both suffering from the cold. He gave her time to speak, filling in the void of her sobs with comforting gestures and sounds, finding her words knotting his muscles tightly, until he was stone beneath her.
He...didn't understand how she could be seeing this, how she could be so certain. It was just a dream, wasn't it? How could she have known about Jaeric, then? And the Drow? There are so many Drow out there, Kivan...it could be anyone... There was certainty in her voice, though, as if she had just witnessed everything, had been there, smelt it, heard her cries... how could that happen? How could she be so linked to Keshayla? And why not him? Why couldn't he suffer for them? Take it all away?
Unless.... That spell. Both Markie and Keshayla had been infected. Perhaps it was linked somehow? Perhaps, the demon that had just attacked Markie, was the one who was supposed to take him? But the night of the attack, there had been two forms, each different. None of this made sense, and a helpless sound dared to leave his throat. Instantly he regretted it, hated himself for it.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #44 on: August 05, 2008, 12:15:23 AM »
Markie just clung tighter to him once her tale was finished, still sobbing, but not nearly the heart-breaking wailing it had been earlier.  Much like the tears she had shed with him that night on the beach, what felt like a lifetime ago.  She was scared, and helpless, and she hurt, for much more than simply herself.  Again her hands coiled into his hair, as if it could keep him close, and take the coldness out of his arms that had settled in as he listened to what she'd witnessed.

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #45 on: August 05, 2008, 12:48:32 AM »
Klay allowed them peace. She didn't speak, too intent to clean the wounds, since the two seemed to need to hold onto each other, in order to get a grip on what was happening. She...didn't understand their relationship. She knew what had happened, loved them both. But...never imagined the two together. Was that what was happening here? She...didn't know how she felt about that. Especially with how dangerous Kivan was....and all the things that he would never be able to tell Markie.
Still...even with those thoughts, the ones of Markie's disctiption was too...close. Instantly a face appeared in her mind's eye, and a nervous tick came to her heart. A handsome, and kind face, with a promonent mouth, and an arristocratic nose. Narrower through the cheekbones, but he was of fine muscles, fair skin, and deep brown hair that teased his shoulders, always tied back with a neat leather thong... Lucas...but how? And why? Markie was still so new here, and she had never met Lucas. So how could he have found her?
It was Keshayla... The king was trying to protect his only sister. How else was he going to warn someone, when Kivan had yet to sleep, and his mind being so busy? There was so much going on, so much distraction, he must have felt the connection between the two, even if it was faint. Was it Lucas who broke her from the demon's hold? Klay wasn't under the delusion that she and Kivan had saved her, the pair had really no clue on what to do. So what did that mean? What else did he need to tell her?
Markie's leg was wrapped with a white gauze, before she shushed at Kivan and Markie, trying to mother them both and calm them down. She had to fight the halfblood a bit, get him to turn Markie around in his arms so that she could tend to the wounds at her arms. It served as a good distraction, one she needed. She didn't know on what to make of these thoughts. "She's still alive... if Lucas was showing you this... Jaeric won't kill her right away, there's still time left. Keshayla is a strong girl, she's been through alot...Jaeric can't dish out something she couldn't handle." Klay didn't sound all the way convinced, but she truely didn't think that the Crooken Warden, Keshayla's beloved god, would have her meet her end like this.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #46 on: August 05, 2008, 01:06:28 AM »
Markie was at least as unwilling to leave Kivan's grip as he was to relinquish it, if not more so.  But her sobbing had mostly stopped now, settled into soft whimpers and broken hiccups that came after one cried so hard.  She was awake now, and firmly back in the here and now, and it would probably be a very long time until she tempted sleep again.  She still huddled as close to Kivan as Klay would let her, her head tucked under his chin and face pressed to his chest.  But, she now became aware of her nakedness, the blanket Kivan had covered her with earlier having been mostly lost in the struggle...and in spite of the terror of her sleep, she felt her cheeks warming in embarassment.  There would be no denying to the teacher what they'd been up to...  But that was hardly important now.  She'd said 'Lucas.'  As in the late King.  Then, had the white one been Jaeric?
Before, the enemy had simply had a name, and a crime, but no face.  It was easy to be confident and brave to a name and a list of wrong-doings.  But when confronted with those hateful eyes that took such glee in Keshayla's suffering, her courage withered, and she could not help but doubt herself in her coming mission.

Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #47 on: August 05, 2008, 09:10:18 PM »
"That's what frightens me the most. Jaeric won't kill her yet. That means she'll have to endure everything his throws at her. It's too much. His mind is a twisted thing, soon he'll start getting creative..." Now the Fae blood was only getting himself worked up. He had assumed this would be happening. That Keshayla would be under going some form of torture.... but hearing it from someone else's mouth killed something inside of him, as if he was still under the illusion that her Crooked Warden would come up with something, to get her out of it. She had encredible luck, she always escaped death. She escaped the hells that people would swoon thinking about.
There was still a part of him that wanted to doubt. Markie had been dreaming, after all. He knew that she felt responsible, so why not torture her mind with such vissions? Because he knew that Markie was telling the truth. As much as he wanted this to all be a lie... it wasn't. And his intuition was saying that it was happening now. Kivan closed his eyes, forcing himself to sigh, for his muscles to relax even if it was dreadfully impossible to do. "Markie... can you tell us anything about the surroundings? Did you have an idea where they were at?"
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

Offline Shae Dravenmore

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #48 on: August 05, 2008, 09:27:50 PM »
She shuddered invuluntarily at his request.  She wanted nothing more than to forget, but he was telling her to remember.  Even now her heart was quickening, just at the thought of having to remember.  She sniffled and shook her head against his chest, not that she wouldn't tell them, but that she couldn't remember anything else than what she'd told them.  "Just stone, and metal bars."  They came back to her in flashes, but nothing she could grasp to.  And with a sick feeling in her stomach, she closed her eyes, tried to grasp onto those fleeting images of a fading dream.  "It...was cold.  And the air was stale.  I didn't see any windows, only torchlight."  More...remember more...  Markie sighed softly, a bit of a shudder in the breath.  Then another, slightly more steady breath, inhaled, held, and slowly let go.  She set herself into a sort of quasi-meditative trance to recall the details before they faded completely away.  "It's cold...and wet...the walls are kinda slimy...like water trickles down sometimes...  A pause, trying to get her stomach to settle.  "Theres....old blood...on the walls.  And the floors.  Her voice trembled a little, but she kept looking.  Not reliving the dream, but like she was looking at a painting of the dungeon, or was walking through a set on a stage.  "He...he's cutting into her...but he's also talking...I can't hear...he looks like he talking to a friend..."  That made her sick...that someone could be so cruel as to coo familiarities at someone as they tore them apart.  She actually had to swallow back bile.  Markie ended the trance and blinked quickly, as if to purge the images from her mind, and was once more shaking in Kivan's arms.

Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: All in a Day's Work
« Reply #49 on: August 05, 2008, 10:04:08 PM »
He hated that he had to ask her, that he was making her think back on what she had just saw when Markie had tried so hard to get away from it. But it was important, crucial. He needed to know where she was, the slightest detail could help. Her discription seemed acurate and true.... but it certainly didn't seem significant. A lot of prisons and cells that Kivan and Keshayla visited, from both sides of the bars, could easily match this discription. Kivan knew, she was trying to help, but he onlyy felt a little more defeated.
This time he allowed himself to sigh, pressing a kiss to the side of her temple, and tugged her closed in his arms: mindful of the new bandages that were there. Klay once more lost herself in her thoughts, eyes blinking irraticly as she rinced the rags in the basin without really paying any attention to what she was doing. Kivan really wasn't certain what to do, and here, he was torn. Should he press, make her relive it all over again until she wasn't afraid? Had it been anyone else, he would have. Would have demanded the information and not regret violence or harsh words. But he didn't want to hurt Markie, he instead wished that he had had those dreams, those wounds on his arms and leg. Markie didn't deserve this. "I'm sorry, Pearl... I didn't think it would come for you again. I would never have left your side...." It seemed all he could do was fail, recently.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

 

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