The City of Durem - A GM Thread ♦ WALK-IN/OPEN

[Corbin DeSeer]

DeSeer Mansion

It wasn't a sound, so much as a bass filled physical sensation that shook the air with subtle and yet dominating vibrations, radiating from a multitude of points in three dimensional space on the main drive leading up the the mansion. Much in the same way something of the presence that approached the building reached out and gave of a haunting nature, this brief, though intense sensation of having one's entire being vibrate out of tune penetrated in what was somehow a deeply perverse manner. It crept under cloth and ran slick against the skin as hot, rancid breath fell over the nape of the neck and clouded the senses before a greasy tongue curled into one ear like a leech forcing itself, with a guttural, awkward sounding moan that trailed off into a final hot, wet breath.

All at once the grotesque intrusion was ceased and without a trace of it having ever being truly present outside of the experience or having happened in the standard sense. All except for the singular eye that could be seen on the doors at the main entrance, spanning the full breadth from hinge to hinge. A void black pupil set within a shifting liquid cardinal sclera, focused upon the intruder. However as the eye closed, and in doing so vanished from existence, no effort was spent in actually halting 'Corbin'.

Meanwhile however, in the drawing room above the Diablerist had once more deemed fit to take on a physical presence in that of others. Lounging in one of the luxurious arm chairs with a glass of obscenely aged merlot idly rolling in one hand and a cigarette held in the other, he watched the liquid glide through the glass like velvet.

"I suppose I'll have to rotate those men out of perimeter duty... Appearance aside, our latest Tzimi guest could put on a better performance as me."

He spoke only to be heard, as Roan was currently otherwise occupied, and multi-tasking in doing so at that. he was a presence that was all, though if she saw fit, or the need to speak with him on the matter of this latest 'guest' then he was entirely at her service. There was hardly reason for concern however for the time being.

[Wyvern]

A challenge...that's what was issued to him just now. Another uncomfortable feeling hit the people, but only for a moment as Wyvern tilted his head again. It was just a small creeping sensation, nothing major.

Without hesitation or pause, the cloaked figure walked up and into the building, or he would have, but he saw a very familiar car. It was the one that was holding that deadbeat of a fake god. Walking over to the car, the cloaked shadow 'inspected' the tires, making sure they were all flat and opening the engine, shoving a few questionable things in there. Hopefully the Not God would check his engine before starting her up, otherwise, the engine would likely explode and some shrapnel might blow into the car and get him as well...maybe.

Turning back and entering the building, the one cloaked in darkness began lying, deceiving, and cheating his way further in. It was just his way of working. It was better never to believe him. Aside from a few people like that damnable priest, or that annoying plaything that used to hang around him, people who associated with the shadow often got...hurt.

On the way up, a fit of hunger hit Wyvern, but he dare not eat any of these 'things'. There was something that linked them to the DeSeer's. He wasn't sure what it was, but he could see it when he judged them. They were all the same somehow. What had happened, how they had been tainted...he didn't know, but he wasn't going to eat one and find out.

When the cloaked figure finally made it to the room he slowly entered. The room seemed fuller than when he first got on the grounds, but he had been keeping an eye on other things on his way up. The hood seemed empty at first but after the door closed, the hood lit up with those two orbs, a dark indigo hue at first but rapidly changing to a golden yellow one as it glared over everyone. The cloak it wore looked horrible. It had once probably had a wonderful design to it, but now it just looked like a heap of shredded cloth. Ripped and frayed pieces lay on top of one another endlessly, no body in sight underneath. In truth, he looked more like a wraith than anything else. It was just that much more prevalent the way it moved. There was no smell about it, there was no sound made, and the way it moved almost looked like it was floating.

The figure tilted it's head about thirty degree's to the right as it looked over everyone with those golden yellow hues before it's head snapped to the left, and everything changed for a moment. It was only for a second, but everything seemed surreal. It was like all color was flushed from existence and there was a grainy, dismal, and dirty feel about all existence. It was blurry and unclear and unsettling as a monstrous intent of death, harm, destruction and chaos seemed to rain within the room. Anyone in the room with abnormally amazing hearing might even hear a mild chime of cries, whimpering, and vulgarity screaming in hushed tones. The look in his eyes, were sinister beyond reason. This was something that far outlived all of the people in this room and his eyes told of the horrible things he had done in the past. It was almost as if living sin swirled around in them, wanting to devour them all. The judging glare was stronger than ever as he seemed to glare into them and rip them apart, analyzing them bit by bit. A deep sickly gas seemed to exit the hood and those frayed bits of cloth seemed to dance on a wind that did not exist. The blurry grainy existence in the room was nothing short of filthy. It was the feeling of a deathmonger that didn't know what it meant to be alive anymore. The heavy air, the feeling as if existence were weighting down on all of them. All of these feelings only lasted for a fraction of a moment, but it felt much longer.

Un-tilting it's head, slowly it looked at all the people in the room, one by one and then to Roan and stepped out of the room for a moment. It didn't speak, it didn't say anything, but it seemed it wanted to talk in private. He didn't come to entertain any of these people. He came on his own business because he thought that maybe he could 'help' the DeSeer's in exchange for a few agreements. Depending on the person, it may have seemed like he was leaving in disgust or maybe respect, but considering the aura it just flaunted for a moment, it was not because he was shy. It was apparent then that the reason that no one could feel him was because the figure had found a way to conceal his aura, scent, everything except for his physical appearance from them. He was practically invisible and in plain site. That uncomfortable feeling from outside, it was him pondering for a moment and his control over his barrier weakening and flexing outward. Always when he tilted his head with a thought. The thought of it, to any who pondered it, made it clear that if he had wanted to, he could have, potentially, made his way in here and none of them ever noticing. He could probably remove himself from their sight if he wanted and become truly nothing. Depending on the person, it was an unsettling thing to think of...but it would explain why the wraith like Shadow Assassin was who he was. After all, one never thinks anything of their own shadow.

The doors shut behind him, but there was another pulse of that feeling, the world in the room becoming void of color again and that murderous feeling covering their skin, soaking them all, before vanishing again. He was waiting outside the room, patiently for a private audience.

[Dr Queensborough]

arrow Nobles District, Canal

Markus watched the interaction between the two sisters curiously, though he didn't dare interject himself between the two. Not out of fear of some form of retribution, though Rahva's wicked dagger was certainly intimidating in its own right. But rather, he didn't want to appeal to one sister at the expense of the other, which would undoubtedly ruin their arrangement.

"There have been rumors of the return of some very important people to the city. I can't say I know whom exactly, but what I do know is that when the rich arrive in town with the intent to stay. They bring scores of potential loot with them. Often times, too much loot to carry along via traditional luggage. It needs to be shipped across the sea, and brought to Du'rem's very own port."

The thief fetched a secondary cigarette from a small metal case, allowing the hell cats to mull over his words. Offering the pair smokes of their own, Markus lit his own with a flash of a disposable lighter. Green smoke wafted from the lit tip, filling the small area of the barge with the luscious smell of green apples. He blew a long column of smoke off to the side before continuing.

"Our unknowing informant is a Boss down at the docks and fancies himself quite the party animal. He makes regular appearances at the Bacchae. Fortunately, I know the owner and he owes me a few favors, and he's told me that our friend has made reservations for bottle service tonight. To put things bluntly, we need to befriend our self-absorbed foreman, and further convince him that it's within his own interests to hand over a copy of the port manifest."

Markus grinned in the face of that potential obstacle in the way of a potential score. Turning to regard the motor for a moment, he urged the boat onward at a significantly quicker pace.

"Here's a question, however. The River Saunter is half a mile ahead of us, for our purposes, it'll act as a crossroads of sorts. Forcing us to make a decision: What should we do first? Shall I ferry us to a nearby restaurant for some breakfast, so we may get to know each other better before tonight? Or shall I take you to the Concords so you may pick out cocktail dresses for tonight's endeavor? Your choice, lovelies, I'll just concentrate on not crashing the barge."

The outlaw snorted in amusement, puffing away at his cigarette as he left the hell cats to no doubt contemplate their situation.

Suhajii

shadow_dreamer

[Dr Queensborough]

Abyssal Majesty

arrow Red Light District

Gasping sharply at the new voice behind her, Runa whipped her head about to get a better look. The ******** spooked here, where did he even come from? The harlot glanced about wearily a bit before directing her full attention to the man in the shades. By turning her body a bit, she leaned against the building still, only not with her shoulder, and her arms crossed snugly under her chest.

"Us?" She said curiously while bending her leg at the knee to tap at the sidewalk with the toe of her boot. She'd dealt with 'us' before. Us could have been fun, us could have been good money. "You got 'nother one of those babe? Smoked my last one a while ago."

With an expert eye, she took in the potential customer, or what she could see. He wasn't ******** ugly, though that didn't matter much. His clothes were normal, but the sword. That struck a chord. It stuck out like a sore thumb. A fellow like him didn't look like he'd win a fight with one of those, though, she had been wrong in the past. Runa reached her hand out lazily for a potential cancer stick, or whatever else he decided to do with it. She had to gauge him somehow.

Dr Queensboorough

Markus approached the blonde woman casually after she had asked for a cigarette. "Have mine," he suggested, attempting to plant the finely-rolled cancer stick between her lips himself. With a metallic flash, the outlaw produced a disposable lighter, igniting the tip of the cigarette in a single try. Runa would find herself exhaling blue smoke from the cigarette, a smell of mint pervading the small area they occupied before the aroma was blown away by the breeze of the Saunter. Discarding the lighter, he pressed his back into the wall once more, though now he was at a much closer proximity to the prostitute than he had been before. "So I'm assuming you're one of Krauser's girls, hmm?"

[Reader of Omens]

Rune watched the goings on around the DeSeer mansion, though he didn't really understand it to be perfectly honest. He could tell though, much like Roan, that Fenra was still asleep up in her room, which is good. He didn't want her getting wrapped up in whatever was going on while she was still injured one way or the other. "Right, Lady. Sorry." At the mention of his name, the Incubus extended his hand, if only to be polite, "Name's Rune. Nice to meet you, Lady DeSeer. Fenra speaks very highly of you and your family. Especially the 'surly' one, what's his name?...Corbin. Yeah, that one." It was good to hear that Fenra wasn't quite wounded anymore, and that she was helping the DeSeer's out around their home. Though he wasn't quite sure what would be classified as 'invaluable' to a Kindred clan. He didn't know much about them, honestly. Probably something to ask Oracle about later.

As for why he was here, well..."All I want, all I've ever wanted, is for Fenra to be happy with her life. And I know that can't be easy, given the unique situation in which she was created, and being forced to be bound to someone for life." He laughed sardonically, "Especially when that somebody is an Incubus." He turned to face Roan now, and to look her in the eyes if they were available to him, "I am here because of the bond between us. I could tell she was suffering from being away from me, and I don't want her to suffer. Or be the cause of her suffering anymore than I already am. With that, he drew forth an amulet from his person. Though how he managed to fit a magical item in such tight pants was a mystery for another day, "That's why I brought this. I've been working in secret with Oracle. You've met him, I think. Tall guy, silver eyes that look like orbs, knowledgeable in arcane lore?" Rune was getting sidetracked again, and the shake of his head seemed to realize that he knew that, "Sorry. Anyway, we made this. According to Oracle, in the simplest way possible so I could understand it, it should sever the connection between us as long as she wears it. Though it won't last forever. But he says that you perhaps know a better way to sever the connection?"

True to his name, it was likely Oracle had foreseen the conversation she and Iden had had in private as a possible future for Fenra, though without the man himself here it would be impossible to tell. Rune continued speaking in the mean time, "Fenra doesn't know about it. I worked with Oracle in secret so as not to get her hopes up if nothing came of it. I came here to give this to her once she was well enough, and I figured that my being here would ease her pain for now. Once she puts on the amulet she won't have to worry about our 'bond' for as long as the enchantment works." He lay the trinket on the table, "If it's alright with you, Lady Roan, I'd like to give it to her when she wakes," ultimately though, this was Roan's house, and it was her call, "Or, if you believe my being here is a detriment to her choice, then I'll leave the amulet in your care to do with as you please and be on my way."

[Roan DeSeer]

DeSeer Mansion, Western Outskirts

Well, a million things to do, as usual. Initially, her concern was for the fact Corbin had made himself known again, and she found herself smiling wryly. If she didn't know any better, she'd hve said her sword was shadowing her, to make sure she was ok and hadn't lost the plot since being in torpor...


Nevertheless, as he took a seat behind her a little and inside the room, she shook her head at his words, her smile turning dark and purposeful.


"Keep your hands off Dagoth's men. They are exactly as I wish them to be, and if you truly feel repentance for their actions, are you willing to stick with just one face to call your own? No, those men are perfect in every way. The house is perfect in every way. All things are as I wish them to be, and so shall they remain. This is my domain, and so long as I am awake, it will be respected as such."


She wasn't necessarily admonishing the Heir, merely making it very clear there was an unspoken plan in motion that she did not wish disrupted. Apparently, it involved the house defenses. Which brought her to the defense of another person within the walls...


Shaking Rune's outstretched hand, she turned that smile back to him, though it softened as her cold, dead flesh met his with a slight jolt. After all, he fed on something primally human and alive, where as she merely drained such things and lived in withered halls.


"Rune. You may not know it, but your own words just saved yourself a beating. The 'surly' one you speak of, who is indeed so, is named Corbin and this man here is he. Corbin is Fenra's adopted brother, by her choice.
Choices mean a lot to women, you know. From the second a girl is born, life is complicated. You become a child, then a young adult, then boobs happen, and hormones, and blood and all sorts of other s**t, and then hormones demand you get a job, and a house and a baby and before you know it you're shopping for curtains and diapers and wondering what the hell happened and above all, praying you made the right choices in that mess and the person you are with will stay.
That's before society even gets involved. Choice becomes paramount, to every female, and I am glad to hear you respect that she has a choice. As do we, incidentally. Dead does not mean uncaring, and I have looked after her my fair share in my time.

So that leaves us with your sensible realisations. The amulet may indeed assist, and she has made a choice. For now, that choice is to stay away despite her addiction, and any person who can fight their most base cravings is worthy of having those decisions honoured. Caine knows, I can't resist my own urges for long... as a certain cleric will soon find out...


My view is that leaving the amulet with me to pass on would be best, and not giving the rehab patients a shot of cocaine by accident so we;re back to square one.
Should you wish to visit Fenra after she makes her choices, you will be welcome to do so, but to stay today, I fear, would jeopardize an important time for her. She is becoming a force all her own right now, and I wouldn't like to get in her way.
I swear to you, on the honour of my name, I will keep the amulet safe and make she is aware of it when she wakes. I do not break my word, incubus, so I hope you will therefore be content at my promise.
I would love to offer you more time to stay, but considering the last person I left unattended destroyed my library and I have much to do today... I am left with only the option of apologizing that I cannot grant you my hospitality."


Holding out a hand to take the amulet if it was offered, there was of course the issue of the not-Corbin.
Having sent out word not to intercept the stranger or react, he would find it very easy to make his way through the house. Sighing softly, whether Rune agreed to hand over the amulet and leave or not... the shadow demanded attention, lest it become bored and damage something important. Pushing herself upwards, amulet in hand or not, she headed for the shut doors of the drawing room and slipped into the corridor, motioning to Corbin and Tous to stay put, seeing as she was happy to speak in private with the creature.


"You've been enjoying taking my shadows from me... my Obtenebrate hardly likes to obey me since you turned your eyes here, shadow... what is it you want?"


She didn't comment on the choice of form the thing had taken - Corbin was a good visage to use to get close to her, and she wouldn't criticise sensible. She was also entirely unafraid. In her own home, there was little that could truly end her existence, more was the woe.

[Wyvern]

'An offer in exchange for an agreement. I'll show you it rather than explain, it's easier if you see it. You may bring up to two body guards if they will make you feel safe. Meet at the fountain, tonight at Durem Reclamation Facility and I'll show you the way from there...'

The voice of the creature was dark and cold, brooding in a way though sharp and to the point...at least this time. There was something strange about the voice. It seemed to have a echoing quality, and it felt like it was no louder than a whisper, even though it was very easy and clear to hear.

Turning and walking off, it was clear that, in a way, the figure had no intentions on leaving just yet. He was heading toward someones room, as if he already knew the way. It was Venoms. For what reason was unknown, but he didn't seem to be bothering anyone.

[Betty Beelzeboop]

Tres Ecstuffuan

Dezris

Lovi had to stop herself from rolling her eyes when Alfred made a point of recognizing Tres. To say that the man was egotistical was an understatement. Maybe he'd toned down his demeanor in recent years, but Tresondros could still make Narcissus seem humble at times. She was used to it by now, and really, if she hadn't found something appealing in the midsts of all that vanity they wouldn't be traveling together. She folded her harms and slightly bobbed her from one side to the other as he listed his various public appearances and affiliations. (As though a 'fan' wouldn't recognize these things already).

She accepted the note graciously, though by the look on her partner's face it may not have been their first choice. Lovi didn't care to brag about her financial standing. Since she'd left the guild to work alone, she had more loyal (and wealthy) clients and money than she'd ever had to herself before. Maybe it was a little selfish not to be frugal with such good fortune, but her job came with a certain lifestyle and an appearance to maintain. All the same, "Thank you for your help, dear."

((Sorry. I kind fo forgot about Lovi on accident)).

[Reader of Omens]

When Roan shook his hand Rune could, just briefly, sense the anger and bloodlust that lay beneath the Brujah's surface. Normally this would alarm him, but wolves, and consequently magical Seers, tended to be a great judges of character. So the fact that both Oracle and Fenra trusted the DeSeers implicitly was good enough for him to take her at her word. He had a feeling when he'd come her that he wouldn't be staying, but he had assumed it would be because they'd throw him out on his a** the moment he walked through the gate. Passing the amulet to Roan, Rune nodded to her and turned to leave, "A most generous offer, Lady DeSeer, and one I accept. I'll stick around in the city," Mostly because he had no way to leave as of yet with Oracle being busy back at the castle, "I don't know where yet, but I'm sure that you have resources that will tell you. Plus, Fenra will be able to find me well enough once she's well. If she chooses to, of course." It was just as likely she wouldn't want to speak to him again once she had no reason to stay with him, which while disappointing, was something Rune could understand. If he didn't hear from either Fenra or the DeSeers about her condition within the week, he'd assume Fenra didn't want to speak with him and leave.

[Roan DeSeer]

DeSeer Mansion, Western Outskirts, Elevation

"I promise nothing shadow, save that I will meet you, as you request."


Giving as succinct an answer to the shadow as his statement had been to hers, she watched him go, and left him to his own devices. There was no reason to stop him, for now.
Tucking the amulet Rune had passed her safely into an empty pouch on her weapons belts, she made sure it was secure and wouldn't be lost while Fenra was sleeping and she was guarding it. For now.


For now. For now, for now for now. She was sick of ricocheting from one thing to another without any time for herself and Caine's teeth she could still sense the murder even from here and...
Shaking her head, she walked away from the drawing room, hand on the wall to steady herself as she headed for the west wing.

The problem with becoming any degree of deity, no matter how strong or weak, was the niggle in the back of the brain, all the time, all the voices, all the needs and wants and demands... And the beloved Margrave was so far away.
Death was a treat, all that blood spilled... blood spilled in her name... dribbling, oozing and spilling, red red red... Focus. She needed focus. A focus. A channel. Cleric. What was the bloody point of holy men otherwise?
Hahaha.. holy men. Holey men.


Thoughts that fractured, she fell against the sigil door, slamming her palm onto the spike with gleeful abandon, before tottering into the darkness beyond.
Her grin as she descended drunkenly was disturbing, wide and far too toothy. Her back seemed to be rippling under the cloth of the catsuit, something writhing beneath her skin. Giggling, she pushed through the next barrier between her and Zantara's room.
As if crossing some invisible line, as his door came into sight, she was suddenly... normal... again. Pausing long enough to light a smoke and brush a stray strand of hair from her eyes, she lightly touched the handle and bade the portal to open.


"It's time, Zantara."


Three simple words as she leant against the door frame, taking her smoke from her mouth to dangle in her hand limply as she dropped her arm and exhaled, curling her tongue to allow the smoke to form a delicate ring.
Both of her eyes were red, and glowing in the dim light of the corridor outside him underground room. Breathing in, she could still smell blood, death and pain in the very stone work, whirling around her like a heady perfume.


"Won't you come and play with me, precious cleric..."


As she stared at him, she called to the blood. To her blood, in every being in the grounds. Anyone bearing it, or carrying it amidst their own, would feel the pull of the blood, the lust, the hunger. To most, it was familiar enough to ignore or brush off, but... the Lady DeSeer was on the hunt, for well known and loved prey. Her heartbeat was simply all there was, her will absolute.
For the both respected and unfortunate cleric... it would seem the bell was finally ringing for last orders, and time was up.

[count_zantara]

DeSeer Mansion--The Pits

A Cleric and the Goddess

As the door opened and the light entered the darkened room, Roan would find the Cleric had stripped off his jacket and overshirt, his feet up in the hammock as he stared at the ceiling rocking it back and forth with his gloved right hand pushing him back and forth.

Lost in the memories of the night of a highly eventful yet still disappointing night, it took a few moments for the Count to even recognize that another had opened his doorway.

"I've been speaking to the dead since I've gotten back. Such stories...."

He smiled sadly, his head turning away from the ceiling to look upon Roan over the ever-present shades with those deepset lavender eyes of his that spoke of desires unfulfilled and dreams of the future even without the strength of her desires in his veins.



"The Dream shall be rejected for the soothing pain of Reality."

He spoke offhandedly as he lifted his feet up and spun in the hammock to place them on the ground one after another, his gloved palms on his knees for a moment. For some strange reason, Roan could see that the scars on his torso had faded, scales replacing scar tissue. As if his very body was cleansing the canvas for the future masterpiece.

Lifting his left hand up to his head, he pulled his head one way and pushed the other, shivering as his neck and shoulders creaked and cracked ever so pleasantly before finally coming to his feet, picking up the book she'd given him before that had been so far unnoticed and set it gently within the hammock.

Tilting his head as he was suddenly across the room almost three inches away from Roan, his left hand above her on the doorjam, looking down in her eyes. A long slow blink, his silvery locks shimmering in the dim light as he breathed in her scent. Roan might catch that under the natural hue of his hair, his entire body, more specifically the scales and the root of his hair on his head and face, seemed to have a incredibly subtle glow to them, and it seemed to waver along his body like a night sky.

"Let the Games truly Begin."

He spoke softly, the left corner of his mouth rising in the barest hint of a smile.

[Roan DeSeer]

DeSeer Mansion, Western Outskirts, Ever Never Mine

"You reek of life expired..."


As the taller man... if man was an accurate word... shifted to stand over her, she couldn't help bringing her left hand and its smoke up to rest on his chest, the burning cherry away from him as her bare fingers lightly played over his chest, eyes dropping to critically look over her work space.


"Beautiful."


Raising the cigarette to his lips for him to take, she idly mused that had she been human still, his manner would have been enough to ensure they never made it out of the cell to other things. His demeanor reminded her of her Sire... though, not in the negative connotations it could have, but instead as she had known him between the sheets, before her untimely death.

Thankfully for both of them, she was not human. Her willpower was thus strengthened, and he was thus more likely to get some satisfaction out of things. Something as mundane as mortal lust would never do. Besides, he was more durable than a mere mortal.


"You walk an interesting path, Cleric. Love me, fear me, do as I say, and I will be your slave. It's not so much to ask... you merely risk forever, not long at all..."


Moving her hand from his lips and the cigarette to her catsuit, she slid the zipper down from her neck to her cleavage, simply to free the material from around her throat, shifting her head to one side and causing her blood red locks to flow over one eye as she did so, the artery on the opposing side clear to see, pulsing with her will as she drove her own heart to move.


"I've walked this road before, with another. Three drinks, and then I will take you where I took him, and I will make you mine entirely... if you trust me. If you dare. Zantara the mad, Zantara the free... it hardly seems fair to poison you without accepting a little in turn.
Come, free spirit and choose addiction of your own free will. Become mine, and I will give you everything you desire in turn. Poison shared."


The only people she had ever permitted to actively bite into her flesh in the past had been her fellow clan members... and Roen. Ordinarily, she split her own flesh, though Zan would likely have no idea of any of it, or the fact she was already accepting him as valued and vaunted as the Margrave himself.
An honour? Perhaps. Regardless, for the blood bond to take, and for her to therefore be willing to take him to the Shrine and invest him fully in the role she intended... a third drink, on a third day, was needed. Two had gone before, the final door lay between them, and she had handed him the key.

Would he back down? She doubted it. Was this a dangerous move? Definitely. His physiology was complex and hurtful to her old, dead bones... but nothing ventured, nothing gained.


"Show me you meant your words, Cleric. Pick your own shackles."

[Dezris]

Tres Ecstuffuan

Lady Gilaen

Oh god (or gods, plural, the paladin still hadn't decided which was more appropriate since he'd come to Gaia), what had Alfred done? He'd opened the floodgates of this man's pride, and now the poor paladin was drowning in it. Granted, he was genuinely curious as to the fighter's identity, but... Well, he could probably have asked in a way that didn't result in... Whatever this was.

He took the first opportunity he had to speak after Tres stopped talking, lest he start again before the paladin had a chance. “Ah, I see. Yes, the name does ring a bell, now that you mention it. I've only fought in Heaven and Hell before, myself, and even then only one year, and... Well, it didn't go too well for me, and if I recall that year's tournament was cancelled shortly after my defeat anyway. So it would seem... No, never mind.”

Alfred was about to say the fighter had seniority over him in this aspect, but he had the foresight to stop before he gave the man more fuel for his apparent arrogance. Not that the paladin minded being talked at that much, but... Well, he was supposed to be on patrol right now, he couldn't stand here for too long. Besides, the fighter's companion had provided a perfectly good opportunity to end the conversation here, thanking him like that.

“No problem, it was the least I could offer. I'd warn you to be careful about certain parts of the city, seeing as you seem new here, but, well,” he paused for a moment, making no effort to hide his glance towards Tres, “Somehow, I don't think that will be much of a problem for you two. Anyway, I won't keep you any longer. Good luck finding your lodgings.”

With that, the paladin turned, and started walking away. He kept his pace slow enough that the pair could interrupt him if they had anything else to say, but, to be honest, they probably didn't need his help in the first place. He had only really stopped them because he though he recognised the fighter, and now that he had confirmed that, there really wasn't any reason to waste any more of their time. He'd have to look into this Tres fellow's history, to see if he posed any threat to the city, but first, he wanted to finish his patrol. For the exercise of the walk, if nothing else.

[count_zantara]

DeSeer Mansion--The Pits

A Cleric and the Goddess

From the shimmering of his replenished scales to the scintillation of metal through each hard n****e, Zantara spoke of 'Other' in a fashion that had driven succubae to their knees in time. Under her hand against his chest, his heart beated louder, the steady sound filling the room with the coursing fluid in his veins.

"Life not used is a life better taken for others."

Puckering his perfectly formed lips to take the offered cigarette, he broke the gaze to allow himself to take a long drag of it, his forked tongue flicking it into the far left corner of his mouth before sending it flying across the room over his shoulder to land in the half filled ashtray on his endtable.

Listening to her words, the smile from before grew even larger as he replied in kind.

"How you turn my world, you precious thing."

Roan spoke of entirety and forevers in a way that other spoke of Deities and the Universe. Which in most cases would have brought a chuckle to the Old Cleric as presumptuous in the extreme. But Roan....she actually meant it. The former walker of this path had gone his own way in time but not without leaving something behind.

Zantara was one who dove deeper into things than anyone else. He immersed himself in a ideology, a love affair, a cause and he followed it to the moment where his personal code found that which he aligned himself with lacking in substance.

"You only think this is the same road because it's made of the same stone work, Roan DeSeer. You will see in due time that the Road leads to a far different place."

Taking a step back from her, his gloved left hand dropping down to barely kiss against her right shoulder, trailing against her cheek. Before she could take this as a sign he was declining, he held up one finger admiring her body for a beautiful piece of art while unwrapping the binds on his right wrist working each finger of the glove off his long fingers. Had she ever noticed how long and slender his hands were? How perfectly proportional they were, meticulously taken care of from the freshly manicured nails and unscarred palms.

They were both callous yet soft looking which should have been impossible but there it was.

Dropping one glove to the floor he spoke gently as he tossed his shades over his shoulder to land on the closed book.

"Shackles are something I'm quite familiar with, darling Roan and I find them delicious. But there must be a gift given in return."

Dropping the other, he admired his hands for a moment before stepping in again, his right hand dropping down to slide along the leather up her hip to hook his fingers around it. His left hand came up to her cheek cusping it for a moment as his forehead rested against hers. There was a kindness behind those lavender eyes that Zantara showed very few.

And with a intake of air, he kissed the tip of her nose before a pair of hollow fangs unfolded from the roof of his mouth and he bit into the artery, holding his own venom in check for now even as a small part of him wanted to fill her with it's caustic body destroying fluids just to watch what her reaction would be.

It was part of the continual desire to destroy and rebuild for the Cleric and for now, he kept it in hold.

And with that, his left hand curled down over her shoulder to spray his palm in the middle of her back drinking deeply.

[Venom Genryusai]

Venom, Pondering things
Her room- DeSeer manor

The woman felt no need that morning to leave her room, perhaps she knew that her employer wished for the moment for her to stay out of sight. Perhaps and most likely she already knew who was on his way and waited for him to find her. The closer Wyvern got to the manor she could feel the shadows shifting, caressing, seething in that familiar way they always had when he was near. Venom sighed slipping into one of the chairs in her room staring out the open double doors her toes just barely inside the shadows of the room as the sun floated across the sky. To say she was nervous and excited was an understatement, how many years had it been since she had last seen the being she called friend even if more often then not did he call her pest. Bringing the blue decanter she always had near to her lips the cold black liquid that was inside filling her mouth before burning down her throat, it was odd so many beings she wanted to visit with because they were close to her or because she found herself enchanted by and yet she sat in that chair not moving.

One leg crossed over the other as Venom shifted in the chair letting the hand that held her breakfast if it could be considered that to her lips once more, her brother Tous was near as well for a moment she nearly missed his presence it bringing a smile to her black painted lips. Reaching into one of the pouches on her belt she pulled out her phone frowning at it, her husband had not called her like he was supposed to and that bothered her. Pressing the button on the device to light up the screen she saw that a missed text message was waiting for her, raising an eyebrow and accessing her text messages she realized it was a picture of her husband..... In a suit.

"What the hell......"

Venom muttered staring at the picture as if it had to be a joke or trick of some sort, he did look rather dashing but Shige in a suit? For a few moments all she could do was sit there and stare at it blinking rather stupidly. Shaking her head she sent him a text back not really thinking that he would get it, in fact she would be shocked if he did simply saying that he looked damn good in that suit and he better be wearing it when she saw him next. Locking the phone she slid it into her pouch once more and stood as she felt the shadows thickening around her whispering to her telling her that she was about to have company, turning her violet eyes swimming with depth less swirling black pulling the color from them as she stared at the door. She knew there was no need to open the door nor was there need to tell him to enter, the being went where he wanted and why he was headed in her direction while welcome was a mystery she was anxious to unravel.

[Edited because my dumb a** forgot to respond to my own husband....... doh...]