Shin replied, with a raised brow and a little laugh.
"I do believe you folks were ever the loud, flashy ones. I like to think I was a creature of more sense and subtlety."
She was being vain, of course, and teasing lightly. Her voice became ponderous once more though, and she gave Zantara an inquiring glance.
"I wonder, if power and godliness are within such easy reach... Does that mean Im lazy? Knowledge is the only power I've ever been truly interested in. I wonder what I could accomplish with the kind of power that you wield, or Croix, or Alexander."
Even so, she sounded curious more so than ambitious. She let her eyes drift closed and a small sigh escaped her lips as his fingers trailed across her neck. She shivered pleasantly whenever his fingers would brush against the sensitive scar tissue, long since healed over. Given the regenerative nature of vampiric flesh, the wound must have been inflicted before she died to have actually left a scar behind.
The naturalist gripped almost possessively at the thin, leather-bound tome as he devoured its mystical contents. 'Espiritu? Out-of-body?' he wondered to himself aloud, before saving the juicy contents of the work for later--not too much later, under the circumstances, but later. Speaking of circumstances, Mathuris was too anxious, feeling the strange, glowing ghas at his shoulder, too fully enjoy the confiscated literature. As he picked himself up, dusting off his green vest--not so dignified-looking still, with the stained crust of blood splattered haphazardly--his feet unwittingly found their way to a oval as he began pacing once more. In his right hand, the book sat passively, and his left, his chin rested. Lo, his shrewd, earth-brown eyes were too buried in the mire and the clouds, before he found himself tripping over the unfamiliar, finely-dressed madame, whomever she may be. As he crashed to the floor, he met her cool, steely gaze before nervously sputtering out, "er, my apologies, mi-madame." Given her garb, the time traveler figured her some sort of high-society lady or princess; miss may offend the dame, afterall.
A gust of wind, a chill in the air, the smell of burnt tobacco. The door creaked open, a man stepped in, his face covered by a black and gray shemagh, wrapped around his face, concealing all but his dark red eyes. Strands of midnight black hair poked their way out from beneath, falling across his pierced right eyebrow, a scar leading down from the left. He wore a black leather duster, the bottom reaching all the way to the ankles of his black combat boots, a spike protruding from the heel of each. Tracing upward along his legs he wore dark blue jeans, holding tight to his legs. At the waist, a holster on his right and a scabbard on his left, hanging from a black studded belt, cracked and worn. The holster holding an original colt 1911, silver, with black pearl handle inlays, and in the scabbard, a wakizashi, the hilt made of ebony, although it appeared to be damaged and ancient.
A clawed hand reached up to the shemagh, pulling it away from the mysterious man's face, his hair billowed down past the shoulders of the six-foot-four stranger. His skin was dark, no doubt from his years of traveling. A long, scraggly beard covered his face. Streaks of red and blonde randomly zig zagging through the dark tangle. His ears were visible from beneath the mass of darkened silk upon his head, the pointed tips poking out vividly. From his nose, which appeared to have been broken several times, hung a septum ring, black. Snake bite piercings poked out from lips, the rings cradling his grin, canine like fangs gleaming from within. He was ruggedly attractive, the scar that started at his left eyebrow going all the way down past his lip, his most defining feature.
He stepped forward, heavy boots thudding on the floor as he walked, the door slamming behind him of its own accord. He looked wild, feral. The duster billowed behind him as he walked, his weapons clinking slightly against his waist, and whatever was inside of his pockets. In the blink of an eye, his duster was removed, twirling behind him as he threw it across his shoulder. Beneath it was a black Kevlar vest, pouches full of ammo strewn across it. Below, a black t-shirt, the sleeves cut off. Ancient symbols were tattooed all over both of his arms, forming sleeves, all inked with his own black blood. Quickly, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a hair band and tied his hair back into a ponytail, pulling it away from his ears. A two inch tunnel at the bottom of each, with various piercings climbing to nearly the top of both. A few more steps and he had reached the main bar, a sigh escaping his lips.
The man's brow rose, as if intrigued, at the sight of the paradoxically-dapper newcomer. 'Such finery, such a seasoned expression, and such...strange runes painted about his arms....and yet, such distress...who is this being?' Mathuris wondered to himself, his scientist's gaze curiously scanning over the face of this being this time, before uttering a "hello." His long shock of almost-red hair fell over his keen gaze for a moment as he picked himself up once more and set his mud-crusted boots apart from another comfortably and his left arm across his narrow, no doubt battered and crusted, chest.
Sorry, I had spiffed up my avatar a bit for my birthday yesterday. Shin is more accurately represented by my avatar now. ]
Shin had been lounging on the pile of cushions, half in Zantara's lap, and quite absorbed in their conversation. The mismatched pair had been undisturbed in their conversation for so long that she certainly hadn't expected the other patron to literally trip over her legs.
Despite her surprise, the girl didn't let out a sound when the man fell down. She did, however, disentangle her legs, straighten her ruffled skirt, and rise into a sitting position. For a few moments, she fixed him with a steely, cold gaze that was surprisingly intimidating on her face with its delicate youthful features.
The silence seemed to stretch out as she coolly regarded the time traveller. Her purple gaze fixed first on his face, then slid down to the dried blood on his clothing, and then back up to meet his eyes again. But...
His demeanor was so haphazard and nervous that she had to smile. Features that were a moment ago as cold and unmoving as alabaster transformed into a bright smile and lyrical laughter spilled from her pale lips.
"I'd prefer madamoiselle, if you must use such a title. Or miss. Or, perhaps you might just call me Shin, it is my name after all."
The girl did have some Japanese features to her - there was a slight exotic tilt to her eyes, and her stature was quite petite. Her cheekbones and nose were high and proud and distinctly European though. Her skin tone was almost white, thanks to her vampiric nature.
"Are you alright? You really must be more cautious."
He had seen him the moment he stepped in. He felt the quizzical gaze of the man upon him, felt himself being studied. It didn't bother him. Not much did. It had, however been quite a while since a person, not just some mindless creature or beast he had been battling with for survival had seen or spoken to him. He heard the man speak, the words sounding strange and foreign to him, even if he did know their meaning.
"Hello." His voice was silky, yet gruff, the accent of a demonic language dripping from his tongue. He smiled. It wasn't a threatening smile, although it would be hard to tell the difference.
His dark red iris' lightened slightly, as if a cloudy fog had been blown away by a strong breeze.
Draping his duster across the back of a chair, he leaned against it, his clawed fingers digging deep into the wood ad his jacket.
“Everyone was more flashy in those days, even you my dear.”
He said gently, as he continued to stroke her hair and neck.
“But you see, that was always my goal as well. Knowledge in it's purest form, straight from the hand of God to myself... and I found that wanting, always corrupted slightly in their praticular style and what they were worshipped for. So I went even purer than that and held the Godhood as my own. And you want to know what I found? It didn't matter how high you went... there always was something more powerful and with more knowledge than yourself. So up I went to the top of the mountain and took from the hand of the creator himself what I could understand and much I couldn't to this day.”
Sighing softly, he looked off into the distance.
“But someday... someday I will understand what he was trying to tell me. As for yourself, it's not laziness... you are of the mind that all will come to you in it's own time. Me, Alexander among others don't have patience in that way. So we take and take and take... unfortuantly, there is a limit on such things. You will reach higher than I can imagine, in your own time. As would I if I took such a path. But no... it is not the path for me. For I am prideful and too arrogant to be the tortoise in this race.”
Chuckling as he frankly put himself in his place, Zantara looked up and noticed the gentleman. With a little wave of his hand as Shin and this oddity began to speak, he glanced around the room, lost in his own thoughts for a time.
He could be a million miles away and yet still sitting right there drinking a martini.
It was one of the hazards of having your mind split between who knows how many different aspects, you might suppose.
Shin had to chuckle at that. Remembering some of the airs and graces she used to put on, the shows and deceptions. The games she would play with her food while hunting it.
"Well, alright. Even I had more of a flare for the dramatic back then."
Seeing that the nervous man had yet to reply to her, Shin settled back down into her previous position, resting against the serpentine Count. She rather hoped he'd resume the soft stroking of her neck, as she found it oddly comforting yet exhilarating.
"And here I was afraid I'd become unambitious. But then again, I'm on no particular time limit."
As she spoke, she brushed her own fingers across the back of Zantara's hand feather soft and fleeting.
"All good things to those who wait, after all."
She whispered, her touch lingering and her thoughts wandering.
Smiling he replied as he finished his drink and set it to the side. Looking down at her last comment, he frowned ever so slightly.
"What are you waiting for, my little Shin?"
He asked baldly for once as he crossed his left ankle onto his right kneecap. As she ran her fingers along his hand, she could feel the taunt muscles just bulging under his scales. Zantara always seemed to be a bundle of nerves, on the inside it seemed. But always with that nonchalant exterior.
And with that little hint of hers, he went back to stroking her hair.
Shin relaxed against him, feeling completely at ease herself but noting how tense he was beneath his calm exterior. When he asked her outright what she was waiting for, Shin glanced up to meet his eye with an almost tentative expression on her normally cool and collected features.
"What am I waiting for? I'm waiting for... something exceptional, I suppose. Courage, perhaps, or the perfect moment..."
Not usually one to dance around a topic, Shin lowered her gaze thoughtfully. Still she wasn't so bashful that she felt any compunction against reaching up and taking the hand that had been stroking her hair in her own, and tracing her fingers along his scales.
Raising a single silvery eyebrow at her evasive comment, Zantara mentally shrugged it off for now. He wasn't in a rush to push the conversation in a way she didn't want to take it.
"the minute I let down my guard, my dear, I miss something. I guess it's my burden to bear."
He replied nonchalantly as he watched her, his eyes fading in and out of focus. The truth was that like he had done for years now, Zantara had a few different bodies floating around these lands, each of his aspects doing something at any time and his mind was always distracted a bit because of such. It was a stressful thing to him even after all these years but it was how he got so much living done in such a short amount of life.
Or so he told himself.
"There is so much that I have missed while I was gone. I'm trying to catch up mentally, I suppose.
The semi-dapper scientist was surprised at the apparent courtesy and courtly calm the woman expressed, given the air of stern, ivory silence her delicate, exotic features wore immediately before, and given her air if of royalty and dignity Mathuris--or rather, Dr. Lopius, if one wanted to use titles--nodded courteously in return. "Thank you, Madmoiselle, or rather, Shin, I should be fine, only a little trip." he returned, in his peculiar, Romance-sounding accent, his smooth, Mediterranean features becoming calmer and more amicable, even though they still retained some tightness. As he spoke, his skin ripped further at the shoulder as the gash expanded, and his overall light olive skin became paler, almost--growing a transparent look to it. His eyes slightly winced and his lips tightened at the apparent sensation of pain.