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They were right there. Just an inch or so from his face, since she was still tilted slightly, so it wouldn't take much for them to just dissolve the flimsy material. Leaving it hanging off her generous breasts by only the straps, the angle of her hand pushing them up towards him.

Is these where we decide who the hunter and the hunted is/, she thought privately, only the curve of her lips giving any hint to her thoughts. She pulled her hand up, pressing the palm of it against his stomach and chest before placing one hand on each shoulder, and wrapping her legs around his waist even tighter.

"I think we're going to play a game..." Yeah, most definitely not the naive little girl that Sunstrike hoped she'd be once she'd settled into this body. "If I'm happy by the end of this little fun...I won't let the sunlight in...otherwise..." She trailed off. She was curious what he'd make of the threat.

Tijae hissed as if she was the vampire instead of him, her face flinching from the light of day. "What are you?" She whispered, not in fear, but curiosity. Even as her back arched from the pleasure of the pressure sliding between her breasts and then licking at her, as if she was some treat for something best not mentioned.

Strangely enough, there was no fear only a wet sort of excitement that she might get a more fun toy then she'd envisioned. The light filtered through, shining on her skin, the albaster skin glowing with power, the scent that had been there before strong even though he'd not broken her skin yet. That of cinnamon, apples and other such spices that would make most think of comforting things...but with her seemed much darker comforts.

Her hand reached up to cup his face as she accustomed herself to the light and she raised her head as she fell backwards completely, letting him assume control. "Whatever it is...I want it..."

A day like any other.

The bright sunlight filled every corner of Latent's crowded streets.

Gulls' cries mixed up with tongues from all over the continent, some even originating from beyond its borders.

The smell of the sea.

Noble citizens crossing the paths of shady figures vanishing in those areas the town's government wasn't too proud of.

And somewhere in between: a woman, melting with her surrounding, not really being noticed. And even if someone knowing her, a patron of Feimuragn, for example, had come to bounce right into her, it would've taken him a second look to actually realize it was no other than the owner of the famous book-cafe and library.


Seemingly just heading forward, winding her way through alleys and over public places, the Half-Siren Lucind Varhetel wore a distinct, a different aura than one was used to. Her hands pressed into the pockets of her worn out brown leather coat, amber eyes pierced through everyone and everything, barely blinking but surrounded by sickly shadows that softly reached out for her nose's bridge.

There was no sound coming from her steps, also provided by those light boots that ended a couple of inches under her knees, hiding a pair of tight fitting, green pants. What she was wearing under her cloak nobody could tell, but a light scarf with foreign patterns stitched to it was wrapped around her neck, another one, dirty grey, hastily bound around her head - single strands peeked out here and there.

It wasn't like Lucind was hasting through Latent. More as if...she forced herself to stay calm, to not stand out.

What had happened after the woman had gone on a trip to Azum around two months ago? What had happened to her on that continent far south of Gaia, considered to be fascinating and dangerous in the same way, where unimaginable wonders and unseen creatures were said to be alive...?

Its almost impossible to hide from those that truly know what to look for. Perhaps it was something about a woman swimming in the deepest depths of a mans soul that seals that person in their mind for as long as they live and beyond. Maybe it was a memory of that sweet caramel taste mixed with the memory of a smiling face.

No matter what caused it was a feeling that demanded obedience.

There she is!

He thought to himself as he entered the crowd. A moment of joy at the realization that she was still alive. And a moment of concern at the shroud of mystery she wore around her. She was the same, so very the same. And yet so very different on so many different levels. But he hadnt the time to concern himself with that.

A black hood was cast over his face, a shadow shielding the view of all his facial features above the nose, save for one gently glowing white right eye. Two small skull beads lie at the end of the hoods draw strings. The hood was part of a long jacket that was buttoned down to the waist and then left open. He wore black pants and clean black boots. His left hand, was covered in black fingerless glove and held in it a piece of smooth black fabric, with a bow atop it. The fabric was gently laced over what appeared to be a box, about a foot long, 4inches wide and 4 inches deep. The simple cloth shielded the box from prying eyes be they magical or otherwise. His right however, was clothed in a full black leather glove, its fingers entirely covered. And as he turned and weaved through the crowd he seemed to favor leading with his right side.

You see, he knew she had a reason for hiding and he wouldnt dare place her in danger. And so he followed her, his eyes set on her distinct soul, and on the back of her head. Crowd surfing was challenging, and she seemed very adept at hiding, but he wouldnt give up so easily. He just had to corner her, thats all!

Did she know? Was she onto him? With the crowd thinned, a man in all black clothing looking rather ominous was easy to spot. But he followed, his eyes scanning to the signs for just a moment and then back to his target. He stood a good fifteen feet back or so, trying his best not to look too daunting.

For a moment his senses were barraged, flavors, smells, fish, sea water, a veritable potpourri of sensory presence. His curiosity forced his eyes hither and tither. To a shop, to lady he accidentally collided with while looking at said shop. To the dock, and the rather odd fish being pulled from the water, and sudden magical flare from inside a nearby store. When his eyes shot back to her, she had managed to steal another good ten feet ahead of him. He just barely caught sight of her slipping into the alleyway. His feet raced, it was not as much a run as it was a jog his right hand sliding against the brick surface as he broke around the corner, just barely catching another glimpse of her vanishing deeper into the rural labyrinth. She was fast, father than he remembered. His boots splashed through puddles, the tails of his coat whiplashing open as he picked up the speed.

He turned into the alley finding only a dead end. His steps were cautious, did they get her already? Did she vanish? Was this her plan all along. His right eye pulsed once, trying to scan the area for any hostiles souls. His search came up negative. A concerned left hand clutched the box a bit tighter, no mere pick pocket would snatch this prize. But there was nothing...a sweet scent, and a group of very wary looking cats sizing him up. The moss and mildew held no answers, he took something of a small breath and let out a short disappointed sigh.

Indeed he did notice. He was given a stare and he returned it, his boots squeaked as he stepped close to the small animal the feint glow in his right eye pulsing yet again. He knelt, the tips of his jacket draping along the ground as he stole a closer look. Something was off, something looked wrong. The eyes are the window to the soul, and this animal held much more soul any small cat should.

He leaned forward to peer through those two small windows, giving him a perfect glimpse of a very familiar spirit. A smirk formed across the lower half of his pale face, his eyes and cheeks still hidden in a shroud of black. Like peering through a mirror, he could see her.

And then it was gone, just as quickly as it came, the poor cat nearly stumbling into the can which held its delectable feast. That voice graced his ears, dancing on the wind. His hand slid to his knee, pushing off as he moved to stand.

I needed to give my thanks...

He said, a coy smile on his tone. Slowly he turned, his right foot led, followed by his hips and waist. As he turned his right hand moved up to the top of his hood sliding it back and off of his face. It revealed his pale skin, his dark blue hair, and the black streaks that rose from his temples intermingling into his spiky hair do. But most of all it revealed that warm innocent smile that only Maximos seemed to be able to properly perform.

...the coffee and cake were absolutely delicious.

His eyes had changed, his right eye was white while his left was black. But no matter their color both eyes widened in surprise before his face was over come by the completely stunning nature of her reaction.

She had shouted something, and the cat scattered as if an armada of dogs were at their tails.

Did he want here dead? No...

No...this wasnt right. This was entirely wrong.

That pearl, the wave of power, it was all the same it was all correct. Even the staff though different, was the same in the manner in which she held it. Had he chosen the wrong woman? Was there another...?

It just couldnt be. She musnt have believed it was truly him. She must have believed he was someone else.

His reaction never seemed to leave the completely dumbfounded state. In his past, Maximos was a fighter, and while he still harbored a love for combat, he would never dream of swinging on her. The very thought of hurting her upset him.

Never.

His left hand clutched a bit tighter on the package. It held more meaning now than it did yesterday, than it did ever before. His right fist never clenched, his hands remained open and loose in a most non-threatening manner. He didnt understand what was going on, but he knew what was certainly not going on.

I wont fight you Lady Lucind...

He said, directly, and yet warmly. She looked entirely ready, and so was he. That glow in his right eye igniting for just a moment.