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 Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2015 5:02 pm
Yakov He smirked at her attitude. "Yakov doesn't need promises in order to bed you." He then relented his massage and stood to his feet, looking down at her in the tub. Yakov offered a hand to her. "Come out of there before my flower wilts."
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Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2015 6:06 pm
Jóna should have felt more enthusiastic. She had a day left to live and a lot of things she wanted to do, plundering a handsome man being at the top of the list. Nevertheless, her impending demise weighed heavily on her. Yakov didn't want a whiny woman moping about her own death, though. That was not what drew them together. The promise of a good time had, and now she was on the verge of ruining it.
So she took his hand to allow him to help her up, her stomach knotting painfully, although she wasn't sure how much of that was nerves and how much was residual hangover.
The threat of her trials hung over her head like a noose. Even the Russian couldn't distract her from that.
But then again, maybe they weren't trying hard enough.
"Come on, then. Show me how they do it in Volgograd."
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Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2015 6:23 pm
((No apologies necessary. I just kinda got left pretty much alone, so there isn't much for me to do/add at this point. That, and it actually kinda works out for me since things have been hella crazy around here and I've been distracted. Sigh.))
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2015 3:22 am
Yakov Yakov was left standing in the bathroom of the magically formed inn suite with a naked girl at his hand, dripping with water. She was right to the point. He found a towel to his left that he then wrapped around her. And as he bedded all women, he scooped her up, feeling light as a feather, and carried her back to the bed before laying her down. However, the Siberian wasn't quite so convinced of her yet. The silver sheen in his eyes studied her expression for a moment before realizing that she was in no mood; and what joy would there be for Yakov if his flower wouldn't enjoy it? Jóna looked shaken and close to tears. He sat down beside her on the bed. "Something is wrong with this flower," he said softly. Yakov gently swiped away a wet strand of her hair to tuck behind her ear. "Tell me why you must fight this monster."
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2015 10:27 am
Jóna wrapped herself in the fluffy towel and drew her knees up to her chest, propped up against the bead board. She found herself leaning forward, dragging her fingers through her damp curls, the wet drawing them into tight ringlets, scraping them back on her head.
"Burn it all. I don't know how to explain." And considering the indignant reactions from Riasha and Lance, she did t even want to know what Yakov would say about 'his flower' going off to die.
"Where you are from, do you have any rituals where your young people become adults? Like, the boys must go out to prove themselves to become men? Like choking a bear or something," she laughed softly, although her voice was unusually strangled.
Burn it all, she was starting to cry.
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2015 12:23 pm
Yakov The corner of his mouth curled downward with dismay. This was certainly a peculiar brothel spy, if she were one; and despite his hardened exterior, any attempt at gaining his sympathies had been successful. Yakov leant back on one arm upon the bed, sinking into it even more with his weight, and tilted his head contemplatively. "Yakov is the only one big enough to choke bears," he boasted shamelessly, "but to get Yakov's job, all men must endure winters where no man lives." He wondered just how much he could reveal without possibly putting himself at risk. He'd never quite talked to someone like this before. "Over half the men die during these winters. And after that, there is still more to train." After a moment, he realized that tears had pooled at the corner of her eyes and her breathing had grown unsteady. He looked to her, "You are afraid?"
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2015 1:03 pm
Her explanations simplified with his experiences. "We have something similar. It's a rite of passage. About half survive, if that. We go into the Grootslang den and have to sneak past it to the other side and somehow not get caught and eaten." She dug tears out of her eyes angrily, horribly embarrassed with her breakdown. "I go in tomorrow." Her voice hitched and cracked.
She drew her arms tighter against herself and confessed, "I'm scared. I'm not ready. I didn't train, not nearly as hard as I should have. My odds fo survival are...low. Your boys don't survive the winters and I won't survive the Grootslang. If I do I get to chase immortality." She laughed bitterly. She would never know the feel of endless years or watch her veins blacken.
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2015 5:40 pm
Yakov He raised an eyebrow at her last statement, shocked. Immortality was the last reward he had expected to hear come from the lips of a girl that was being forced to fight some monster of myth. Yakov contemplated his own past, and with that, inevitably his own fate. "Yakov has died once," he stated plainly, "It's not so bad." He made an effort to hold back any sliver of emotion that could seep through his voice. After a moment he realized by the expression on her face that he wasn't exactly doing anything to brighten her mood. "But immortality... can hurt a lot." Yakov grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it above his head, dark blond hair ruffling into even more of a mess. His unadorned upper body was stried with scars that traced along bulky muscles. A large cluster of raised scar tissue speckled his back and chest, revealing where bullets, among other things, had pierced through one side and out the other many times before. Yakov turned to her with a look more serious than before. "Is flower's monster really worth this?"
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2015 7:29 pm
Jóna looked up in sock, blinking rapidly, mouth popping open at his mentioning of his own obviously not-permanent death. Then his shirt came off. Her eyes glazed as she swept it over his divinely sculpted torso that was a gift from the gods themselves. His scars were second to register.
"Immort..." she began to parrot, the word falling short as that hit home harder than the scars themselves. She didn't realize she had crawled forward and set her palm flat against one of the bigger scars covering hard muscle. Brow knitting, mouth still open, she gasped breathily, "you're immortal? But you're a human."
Was it even possible?
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 1:25 am
Yakov Yakov gave a light shrug at her reaction; it wasn't anything unexpected, though he couldn't remember ever revealing that fact to anyone that he didn't work closely with. "Yakov was human once," he said solemnly. "I became soldier boy when I was very young. I worked hard and secured a top position in the rebel army, or so I thought..." his voice trailed off as he reminisced days that belonged in another life time. "I died in the cross fire when my team successfully overthrew the regime." A rare sight, his eyes glazed over and the silver sheen of his pupils grew glossy. "I was betrayed by my own comrades." He stretched his back for a brief moment as opposed to sitting hunched over. "Then I woke up in blood. I later realize it was because I was too valuable to lose, so I was transferred to a new team. But how, we still are not told. We just accept that we are and do our work." He turned toward Jóna with a serious, almost apologetic expression. He wasn't sure what to expect of her reaction this time. "All have eyes just like Yakov. All eat blood and human meat, just like Yakov."
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 3:15 am
By this time Riasha had left through the door. Not being indoctrinated in the ways of magic, she decided it was finally better to face her fate than to stay in limbo. Or, perhaps she just didn't like being called a coward and/or a doormat. Either way when Jóna comes out, or Ruslan wakes up, they will find her gone.
((OOC: *tickles Ruslan as she runs out!*))
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 10:38 am
Jóna couldn't help herself. Hand still pressed firmly against his torso, she crawled in closer, fascinated by his story. Eventually she leaned in and set her ear agaisnt his chest, listening to the steady, slow pulse of his heart. An immortal heart inside of a human. How unusual.
She sat back when he admitted to eating people. Their flesh. She actually let out a little, shrill giggle, hand flying to cover her lips. "You...you eat people. Amazing. That's how elves...my people...obtain their immortality. Just by eating the hearts, I mean. If I survive tomorrow I will have earned the right to eat hearts and live forever. I mean, I can still be killed, but age won't take me."
Incredible. The two of them, immortals. Cannibals. She giggled again.
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 3:37 pm
• | puss.Matthias didn’t notice it for the first few seconds. The café was larger than most he’d seen, but it was quiet—oddly quiet, considering its size. Oddly empty, too. He lingered there at the doorway for another few moments, discomforted by the silence and the lack of patrons both before realizing why the stillness felt so strange: It wasn’t manipulative. It wasn’t strained. It wasn’t a politician’s blade blanketed up into some pretense of carefully mediated social subtlety waiting to slash his throat the second he looked the other way. He glanced behind him. No reporters barging in the door after him, no bodyguards swarming his personal space to keep them at bay. No drama. Just a door. “Hello!” The friendly voice jarred him back to reality to see a server standing behind him with a warm smile upon her face and a menu in her hands. “Sorry to startle you, but can I help you with anything? Would you like something to drink? It’s just—” she laughed at Matthias’s startled expression “—you look a bit lost. You were standing there for a while.” “Oh, no no.” Matthias felt heat flushing his cheeks and hated himself for it. He glanced over at the menu behind the counter across the room, found the curvy handwriting much to small to read at his distance, and defaulted to the first thing he could think of: “Coffee’s fine.” He didn’t even like coffee. “Black.” What was he doing? “With a shot of espresso.” Oh, god, why? The server grinned at his choice of what had to be one of the worst decisions panic ever made for him and nodded. “I’ll bring it to your table, sir! Take a seat wherever. The sandwich and smoothie menus are on the chalkboard behind the counter if you’d like anything to eat.” Feeling his ears burning, Matthias nodded a mute thanks and waited till the server turned around before proceeding to the table furthest from her prep station at the main counter. The first day in a year that he finally managed to escape his entourage, and his publicity conditioning went to s**t. No wonder the media chased him down far more often than his father. He had the composure of a two-week-old baby, for god’s sake.
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 4:23 pm
Andrea pushed open the door to the cafe and stepped inside, before coming to an abrupt halt. Something bizarre had happened, though she wasn't quite able to put her finger on what yet. Most certainly, Both Garret and Vera had vanished, as she'd followed them inside the cafe. She also made the observation that the time of day had suddenly changed. Sunlight was streaming through the windows, which were thrown open to allow for a nice breeze to flow through. When she'd entered the cafe, however, the sun had just set completely and the moon was making it's way steadily higher in the sky. "What.. is this place..." Andrea muttered under her breath, and then jumped slightly as someone spoke to her. "Welcome to the cafe, can I get you anything?" The pretty lady behind the counter inquired, twisting a nob to clean the steam wand with a damp cloth. "Uhm... A Vanilla Creme chai tea would be... Lovely." She said, and then, after a moments hesitation, she asked; "Did two people just enter and then leave?" The woman shook her head and then pointed to the towheaded young man sitting at a table looking irritable. "He's the only person who entered recently. Sorry." Drey shook her head slightly, giving the Barista a forced smile. "No worries. I'm sure I'll find them again later." With that she started towards a table, but got sidetracked by the art on the walls. As she passed one of the windows, the sunlight caught her horn and refracted the light as though it were a prism, casting little rainbow flecks across the room. As she moved out of the sunlight, the flecks disappeared as suddenly as they had come.
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 4:56 pm
Arim ducked into a recess in the hall and waited for the guards to walk past without seeing him, then headed in the opposite direction. Once he was certain there was no one nearby who would call out to him to get his attention, he lifted the gold embellished skirt, and ran up the stairs
Light of the noon sun blinked between the arches of the covered walkways, illuminating his autumn clothes and dark skin. Smiling, he stopped outside of the spymaster's door. Dropping the skirt so he could smooth it out, he checked the pleating of his shirt, then opened the door.
Instead of showing a bare room with a false bookshelf, it was a well lit cafe with odd art on the walls and mostly empty tables. He had never been too studious with his magic lessons, but he knew enough to tell there had been a teleportation spell in play. Calling out for the guards would be useless.
"Rose Tea," he said to the woman who was busy cleaning the bar.
The other two people in the room were not from the Stone City. At first glance the boy was not obviously anyone important. The woman however wore gold metal in her hair, which was enough to suggest at least noble birth.
Once more in public, Arim avoided running a hand over his short hair or fiddling with his clothes. Fidgeting was unbecoming of a crown prince. Everything was unbecoming of a prince though.
"Good day," he said, and decided to sit at the table with the boy. Sitting alone was boring, as were formalities.
(And I have no idea what his personality is, so be prepared for things to change.)
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