Earane looked to Luna and then to him. "Yeah, so I've heard...she kissed my hand..."
"You liked it." Luna retorted.
"Anyway, I would love a place to stay. I'm still just...wondering. It's even worse now. Whatever you did to me made me sick as the devil! Ugh!" Earane gagged and ashivered then was okay again. She smiled and threw her arms around him. "Thanks Nolan...for everything. That's what I wanted to say most." He could probably feel her smiling on his neck and she gave him a big hug. She was just happy to be in good company, despite people not giving him a chance, he was very good company. The best, in her opinion. Earane Earane Full Body
Now I lay you down to sleep. For your soul is mine to keep...
▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇
" oh yeah? all i did was bring you back to life" he smirked. " you should get over that sickness any time now and it would be nice to have your company again. You still remember where I live? well if you stay long enough I'll show you eventually" he had just gotten here tho. it would be nice to have some women around the house. He hoped one of them could cook better than amano. Well he knew Earane could cook. " Though your welcome hon. Now lets stay a while and catch up...get to know your new co-worker too" he mentioned to Luna. he was still waiting on drinks and wondered if Adenn had run off again.
▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇
When you die, you will wake. Now your bidding is mine to make...
Earane pulled back. She didn't think he understood. She was wondering the world unattatched to anyone anymore, looking for answers, and he helped her out when he ressurected her because he gave her new purpose in her life. She felt the connection to him. Did he know this? Apparently not. She sighed.
"Yeah, she seems to like me."
Earane turned to Luna and waved her fingers. Luna winked at her. Oye, she was in for a treat... Earane Earane Full Body
Adenn sat outside, behind the bar. He was currently sitting on the back steps, a bucket of beer in ice sitting next to him and an open one half finished in his hand. He was once again shirtless, having spent the day training. It was a habit from his old life that he just couldn't shake. Alcohol just wasn't as good as physical exhaustion at emptying his mind, at getting him to stop thinking about the past. He bought the bar to give him something to do that was different from his old life as a hunter, as a soldier. With the thought of his many years at war, moving from one battlefield to the next he downed what was left of his beer and stood, throwing the empty bottle of to the side and picking up a pair of swords that had been propped up next to him. He moved away from the building a few feet, swinging the swords and working out the tightness in his muscles that had taken hold from stopping for the short time he had. Once he found the spot he was comfortable with he closed his eyes and took a steadying breath and once again began what he called the dance. He moved with incredible grace, his movements fast but fluid his body moving like that of a man half his size. The blades in his hands moved like the extension of his body that they were. He lost himself in the movement, ceased all thought and let his body move as it wanted. No thought, no memories coming up and clouding his mind. His movements were instinctual. He ceased to be Adenn. Like this, he was just a weapon. As a weapon he knew his only peace.
The slender, feminine figure that approached the bar was doing just that, moving with a lithe, cat-like grace as her feet barely seemed to make contact with the ground below. Hips moved in time with a song that only she could hear, her limbs curving and flowing with the dance that had overtaken her. White hair streamed out around her as she twirled, the ivory tresses breaking free of the oddly tasseled black and white hat that had held them prisoner. Milky white skin stood out in stark contrast against the ruins of the black cloth that had once been a rather fashionable top and shorts. Fishnets bearing similar tears hugged her shapely legs, ending in a pair of scuffed stiletto boots.
Eyes closed, the newcomer approached, a serene smile softening her fair features. Though not moving quite the same way as a classically trained dancer, her steps and timing were coordinated remarkably well. And yet there was a hint of something darker beneath the surface, something almost.. predatory. Of course, that assumption on the part of any onlooker could have just been paranoia. After all, such a pretty young thing couldn't possibly be dangerous. She couldn't have been more than 110 lbs. soaking wet, and her stature was average, perhaps just shy of five and a half feet tall. No, it had to have been the state of her clothing or possibly the streaks of soot and ash across her face that brought the image of violence to mind.
Avoiding the bar altogether-- something unheard of to those who knew her-- this girl continued her strange dance around to the back. The song in her head must have ended then, for after a final twirl and lift of her leg that spoke volumes in terms of her physical fitness and flexibility, she stopped and opened her eyes. Irises the color of ink, of the depths of the night sky, gave her an almost alien appearance when combined with the sheer pallor of her form. A voice like honeysuckle flowed velvety soft from betwixt her petal-pink lips as she smiled.
Footsteps, a voice. This creature of instinct, this weapon, only saw an enemy. Only saw something that was supposed to die. When the woman spoke the dance ended. The large man came to a stop in a defensive stance, weapons ready. His ice blue eyes fell on the woman but showed no feeling. His eyes showed his first thought, his muscles tensed ever so slightly. He was ready to attack. In that moment he was the weapon, ready to about to fulfill it's only purpose.
But that's all it was, a moment. Less than a heart beat and the weapon was gone and the man was back. He lowered the twin swords in his hands, and stood up straight, leaving the posture of battle but still held slightly at the ready. He looked at the woman, breathing hard and a sheen of sweat covering his upper body, offering her a slight nod.
The young woman's expression did not falter as the large man turned on her, his eyes filled with the same icy steel as his blades. Most females would have been intimidated-- if not by his sheer size, then by his weapons-- but this fair creature seemed more amused than anything. Of course, this could be due to the fact that he made no move to attack her.
"Ooh!" she all but squealed with delight and closed the distance between them. Her dark eyes sparkled merrily as her fingertips were immediately drawn to the blades he held. Some would have considered it awfully rude, but the way she softly caressed the metal seemed to hold such reverence and longing that most would be hard-pressed to take it as insult.
A moment later she realized he had spoken.
"Hmm? Oh. No, nothing. Lovely weapons you have."
There was definitely something a bit off about her.
He raised an eyebrow at her before stepping away. He wasn't one to trust easily, too many times had he found that someone got close only to stab him in the back, or the stomach. He had the scars to prove it. He held up the blades for a moment studying them before moving back towards the bucket of ice and beer he had.
"Semantics," she said with a wave of her hand, an impish grin coming to replace that expression of delight and fascination. A careful observer would note the faint vestiges of fangs, almost feline in nature, that graced her otherwise perfect, pearly whites. Making herself at home, she followed the large man to the steps, her gaze settling on the "frosty barley pops" he had so near at hand.
"Do you mind?" she asked, plucking one of the cold beauties from its nest within the ice and dangling it before him for inspection.
"And regardless of if it be one or one hundred, your weaponry is quite stunning."
That was perhaps not a compliment one would want to hear from a complete stranger, especially one looking like she had survived a small explosion and bore not a single scratch.
He held the blades up before him, studying the weapons. They were old, they were of the highest quality and held not a single bit of finery. They were meant to be used, not to be looked at to show wealth.
"This weapon has been with me a very long time.."
He looked down at her as she grabbed one of the beers.
"And it's not semantics.."
He brought the swords together in one hand and they seemed to meld into one weapon and grow. When it finally stopped it was very different from either of he blades he had held before. The twin blades were sleek, single edged with a forward curve. What he now held was a massive weapon. The man before her stood at an impressive six foot eight and the blade alone came up to his chin, the tip dug into the ground slightly. Where the twins were curved and sleek, this one was straight and serrated near the guard. It was a weapon no human should be able to wield but the man before her carried it like it was nothing.
" Aden'naast is one sword.."
He leaned the blade up against the building and grabbed one of the beer, popping the top and taking a drink.
Assuming that her bold move was indeed within acceptable parameters, the female popped the top of her own beverage and took a long, slow drink. A shudder ran through her lithe body as the crisp, cold beer caressed her palate and bubbled its way down her throat. One would think she'd not had anything to eat or drink in her entire life, so enraptured was she by the simple alcohol.
Oh, but more weapons talk!
Dark eyes snapped to attention as the man moved the blades, allowing them to meld into a single, gigantic sword. Her little heart nearly skipped a beat at the sheer mass of its completed form. She couldn't help herself and the hand not holding the beer again came to rest against the blade so casually propped against the bar.
"So.. he does have a name.." she cooed softly, as if talking to herself while stroking the metal. The tip of her finger split, however, as she touched the sharper edge and a single drop of vermillion stained the otherwise flawless blade.
"Oh you poor baby, I'm so sorry!"
Tearing a strip from her already ruined shirt, she began to lightly buff away her own blood, fretting and fussing over the massive weapon as one might a child. Task completed, the newcomer then realized how terribly rude she had been.
"My name's Mina, by the by. A pleasure to meet you, Aden'aast. And what is your wielder's name?"
"My name is Adenn.. And I must say you are the first person to ever talk to my friend here.."
He placed his hand on the sword, his hand running along the edge without it cutting him. He looked at the blade as if it was a living being and not just a chunk of steel. A smile crept onto his face as he touched his oldest friend. The only thing that he had left of his homeland. The only thing that knew him. The blade was sentient, though it spoke only to the person wielding it. The person bonded to it. Adenn looked down at Mina.
"He is honored to meet you Mina.. It has been a long time since any but myself has spoken to him. He also apologizes for cutting you. He can only control that with me.."