[EDEL] Adrian/Melanctha - Before The Fall - 12/02/07

[A Wandering Esper]

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

It's about time that Shadow got herself away from the temple, even if only for one evening. Not just by hiking down the mountain, either. While the village near the mountain pass has its merits, she's long decided that her attempts at the odd bit of trickery here and there in the hopes of sparking the inhabitants interest, or at least curiosity, have been found lacking. That lot have been set in their ways for generations, and aren't prone to change on the Weaver's whim.

Reasoning that she doesn't want to risk getting caught out after the sun's rise, she convinces Alimus to fly her out to the nearest city. She'd do so herself, but such distances outlast her current level of control over her wings, as they are as much a part of her element as the clothing she wears and maintains through concentration. Too much at once and she'll be unable to avoid the resulting headache.

Alimus touches down on the outskirts of the brightly lit cityscape and promptly leaps into the Weaver's shadow. While this darkens the same considerably, he is assuredly well hidden, enough so that when Shadow reforms her outfit to be something a bit more modern and sashays into the public eye that he won't prove to be a distraction.

Her wings have been made to be integrated into her current outfit, if only for now. This is her favorite leathery creation yet, one that she's taken to wearing fairly often, with some alterations here and there. The leather of her top is just enough to keep her generously proportioned breasts in check, snugly hugging them without ruining their slight bounce as she moves. Her halter and front-laced bottoms leave little to the imagination, though the belt that supports a side skirt with its loops that go around her opposite leg do lend a bit of coverage at times. Kept safe in a custom sheath lashed to that very same belt is a wand, the handle of which can be seen poking out of its body's black haven. About her neck is one of the few constants of her garb, that of a malachite Ingall necklace Alimus gave as her host's Summoning Gift some time ago. A string of malachite power beads, another gift for the same occasion on a different year, is worn around her left wrist along with the simple friendship bracelet she wears as a physical reminder of her closeness with her sister, Wind. Leg bracers wrap just below her knees, all the way down to her slim ankles. She's built like a dancer, curvy hips swaying with a natural sensuality atop tightly muscled thighs and lower legs. Coins gently clink their musical melody from where another Summoning Gift adorns her right ankle, its malachite beads tying it in with her other jewelry. Her feet are kept bare out of habit, though perhaps if she encounters an individual that catches her attention and she happens to notice their footwear that will change.

Despite her short stature when compared to most folk, the five foot one Weaver doesn't let her height diminish the aura of her presence. Gray tipped dark blond hair bobs its soft waves against her shoulders, her lightly sun-kissed skin as well as the gray shown off equally, her smile one of confidence. Green eyes edged with gray flash with an eagerness to explore this small corner of the world.

Zero Dream

Sleeping in alleys was not really the best thing ever, Adrian had been quick to notice that fact. But he couldn't go back where he had lived - he had tried, but the emotions were still too strong. It was almost as if he could still see the bodies...

No, he had to find a way to build his life anew, but he wasn't sure where to start. Or how to start. It just felt like nothing mattered with the most important people in his life gone, and never coming back­. Cliche maybe... but it was true.

So with nothing else to do, he wandered. This didn't help his mood any to see all the dark things that happened in the night, but at least he wasn't rotting off in some corner.

Right now, he could not really trust the alleyways enough to sleep in them. He had been looking for an abandoned house, but had decided to stop for a moment, sitting on some steps of one building or another. He wasn't quite sure why he had stopped... Certainly not to think. His thoughts always went back to the same thing and it made his head hurt.

So, at least, the tall man with fiery hairs works himself back to his feet, and resumed his search, the sounds of his black boots on the pavement enough to made the Weaver notice his presence...

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Out of the entire pantheon, few swept up the wretched and forgotten like the Weaver could and did. She offered hope where there was none, gathering the many to her and weeding through them after, as if plucking the rotting leaves from a tree to only keep what's green and thriving, or soon to be.

It had all been for her own ends, of course. Getting a glance at some of those who hover about these streets at this hour brings back memories of her sending her then split awareness prowling for new fodder to seduce into dancing to her tune. The reminder makes her stomach twist, but she doesn't let her disgust warp her features. She had used them, as if their lives didn't matter, yet now she seeks the means to have them revere her once more ... for the right reasons, this time. The desire is still there, the need to have others near so their emotions fuel her Weave, but there is a momentous difference. Her craving is, has always been, for the loyalty shown to her to be true. Now she understands such must be earned and not bought through lust, greed, fear, or empty promises.

It seems old goddesses can learn new tricks.

The scrape of boot soles on the sidewalk breaks her from her reverie, her head lifting some as she catches a glimpse of bright red hair just as its lit up by a ruddy beam from a street lamp. The result is dazzling, at least to her. All that long, beautiful ... Hm. Once beautiful, then. While the color of the crimson locks remains true, their layers are mostly composed of knots, ugly snarls coiled with dirt trapped here and there. The clothing that she sweeps her gaze over seems in equal shape, though the form that wears them holds promise by how lithe and yet, according to her sharp senses, distinctly male it appears. All that makes noise as she picks up her pace to try and catch up to this bedraggled stranger is her anklet, which continues to chime very softly, the only music in this desolate corner of a city under the effects of Destruction's curse.

"Excuse me ..." It's a polite enough beginning, with her husky alto cast towards where she believes one of his ears to be, enabling her murmur to be heard as long as her target tries to listen. The sensual purr of her tone tends to ensure that they do, but one never knows.

Zero Dream

Adrian, while aware of how dirty he was (and a bit miffed by it, somewhere down under all the other mixed thoughts and emotions that ran into his head), did not especially care at the moment. It was a bit hard to find a shower that still worked in broken homes, and honestly ? He caught less attention if he was a filthy as everyone else in these parts. Sad, but true.

When he heard a female voice, he froze. He then turned quickly, and for a moment, said and did nothing. The voice had seemed to come from much, much closer than from where he saw the woman standing from. He was not sure what to do - this was the first person to even bother talk to him since everything happened, and given the time of the day and the neighborhood...

Well, if she was a thug, she would have a bad surprise. He had nothing against fighting women if they hit first. "Yes ?"

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

While his emotions ripple along the surface of her consciousness, they however are not a clear enough guide as to inform her fully of his suspicions. If they were, Shadow likely would have laughed. It's really too bad about the loss of possible merriment, as it would have made a wonderful ice breaker.

Instead she casually keeps moving forward even as he halts, till she's well within a few feet of him. Not quite invading his personal space, the Weaver hovers just out of arm's reach, though the interest shining in those dual toned eyes of hers hardly speak of fear being her reason for giving him such a courtesy. "You seem well versed in the ways of this place. I am newly arrived, and would appreciate a guide of sorts. Might you be willing to aid a lost soul?"

It may be laying it on a bit thick, but at least she doesn't give him a "puppy dog pout". She's keeping that in reserve in case her initial request is turned down. Goddess or no, she goes with what works. Besides, this young man looks, not to mention smells, like he could use some tender loving care. Under all that grime, dust, and Creation knows what else, there's a man whose mind is on something painful that will not leave him be. A man with a hidden strength that even now is trying to wrestle itself free of this shroud of negative emotions. If she's going to change her own lot in this world, by the All, she has to start somewhere. Why not begin with helping those who need the sort of comfort only one as she can provide?

Zero Dream

The man rose an eyebrow in answer, pushing a tangled bang of thick red hair away from his face, suddenly a bit shameful of what a damn mess he looked. At least she hadn't asked what the hell it had been all about.

"Well. That depends where you want to go." He shrugged. Beside, it was pretty dangerous for someone, anyone, to be out alone at this hour. He still was not fully trusting her, but he was willing to give the whole situation the benefit of doubt. "I am starting to know my way around here myself... I don't know if I can help, but... hey." Another shug. "Ill try it. Nothing better to do."

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Her answer is very much influenced by his current unwashed state, and she only gives a moment of pause for effect before replying in her usual soft tone. "I heard rumors of a marvelous hotel towards the center of the city. It's said to have one of the few remaining public bath houses, reminiscent of Grecian times."

Where had she gotten the information? The goddess is slowly rebuilding her information network, and as this city is the closest to the mountain range where the Temple of Whispers is hidden, the puzzle isn't that hard to piece together.

"I've been meaning to visit it for a while, and I just had the opportunity to make the attempt tonight." Her head cants to one side, an elven ear poking out of her thick wavy mane, to which further attention is drawn as she tucks some of her hair behind it. "It is called 'The Golden Laurel'. Does such sound familiar?"

Zero Dream

Well, that was -almost- subtile. As if he needed a reminder. Bah, didn't matter. The pyromancer did not really have the energy to be angry right now. Didn't really matter, as he has no money to pay entry anyway. With "last remaining" came "costs a arm and a leg".

Granted a few years ago, his spoiled, brattish self would have thought it was perfectly okay - years and experiences, however, had taught him better. It was about the only positive thing in that whole situation.

"Well, I know where the center of the city is. From there on, it can just be a matter of narrowing down possible locations I guess."

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

The stirring within him of feeling insulted brings a tiny smile to rosy lips, which is only partially hidden by her turning her head in the direction her information says the central plaza will eventually be located, then turning back to him before looking the opposite way, as if unsure just which way they ought to be going. He's then once again her focus, her gray hands spreading their fingers before her. "Please, lead on."

Another step is taken towards him, her anklet making its sweetly gentle melody as she moves. "Perhaps an exchange of names is warranted? You did just agree to be my guide, after all."

Zero Dream

The man remains silent for a moment, visibly getting his own bearings straight before he headed on into the right direction, motioning for the dark blonde woman to follow.

"If you want." He shrugged again. "Name's Adrian." Suddenly, he cupped his hand to the front of him, a small flame slowly taking form. It flickered, as if threatening to die at any moment, but finally seemed to settle down. Still, the man frowned, visibly displeased.

"Guess the street lights finally gave in. Be careful where you step, miss."

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

It's the guttering of the flame into existence that catches her off guard, and Shadow has to fight to keep her surprise and sudden coiling of fear in her belly from showing. She's weak in her half morphed body, at least when compared to how strong she once was. As this, as but some of what she was, she is vulnerable, especially to flame and intense heat.

Forcing herself to walk after him, and to keep her eyes from wandering to the flames crackling above his hand, she attempts to continue with the theme of the conversation, vowing to be very cautious around her new "friend", at least as long as he has some part of him alight. "I am known as Shadow," she relates easily. It's the truth, and will likely suit as a name acceptable on most terms for now. "I'll follow your light, then. That's a remarkable gift you have there. May I inquire as to how you came about it?"

Perhaps more conversation may have followed, if a brutishly muscular arm did not slap its meaty paw against the far wall of the passage they were about to take. A bulky body stands in their way, and by the shuffling of feet in various sorts of footwear moving in to surround them, but not yet close enough to have that chance, is hardly reassuring. A half twisted leer, thin lips peeling back to show yellowed and half rotting teeth, is illuminated by the ball of flame as the gruff human calls out to those seeking to cage the pyromancer and the goddess in. "Hey, looks like we've got us another donater, boys! Whatcha say, kid. Feel like givin' to the People of the Wall?"

Zero Dream

Ha... a nickname. He should have guessed. Oddly, he found himself more amused than angry with the fact. "Oh ? My, that's quite an odd name to have."

Of course, he does not get to answer her next question. He stopped just before his head could enter in collision with the arm, eyes narrowing slightly. Apparently, the man's bulk, or the fact that the sound revealed that he was not alone in his endeavors, did little to intimidate him. Normally he would have just threw off something to distract them and ran, but he had someone with him. Stranger or not, he felt responsible for her protection, since he did agree to lead her trough the dark streets. He so was not up with dealing with those guys this night, at least not while the one he only knew as Shadow was still there.

"Sorry mate. Flat broke. Better chance next time, eh ?" The red-haired man replies with an almost cocky grin, his unlit hand going to catch the silver one of the goddess as he broke into a run, hoping to slide trough before the ring had a chance to close around them.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Danger is closing in, and the Weaver prepares to defend herself and Adrian, who is her ward by default, given the current situation. She's only just discovered this fire creating young man, it will not do for someone or something else try to kill him before she gets a chance to find out all that he knows. Not to mention she's done with not giving a damn about the lives of mortals. They are far more important than she'd given them credit for before, and she's not going to make the same mistake twice. Besides, he's interesting, and that always counts for something with her.

She'd been considering the possible tactics of the situation when Adrian latches onto her right arm and takes off running, with her wondering just how far he plans on going while she tries to keep up, cursing her short legs.

"Hey! No donation, no passing! Get 'em!" That hoard of feet has bodies attached, and they seem on their way at a fast pace, with the brute at the front whose feet are pounding on the black turf of the street to get to both Adrian and Shadow, though most of his attention is on the red-headed man.

Zero Dream

Of course, Adrian doesn't seem to have gotten the memo about her protecting him. On his own, he would probably have outrun the mob somewhat easily, and hidden someplace until they had given up. However, it soon become evident that no such thing is going to happen this night, and he mentally cursed. Fine, then. There was just hoping things would work...

Then, of course, there was one thing he hadn't seemed to notice. That his power was linked to his mindset... and he was definitively annoyed enough to force things to work.

Suddenly he let go of Shadow's hand, flipping himself in front of her and kneeing the first thug that had moved to grap him. One last look in the Weaver's direction, making sure that she was far enough not to get scorched, and then, finally, he calls forth his flames. Not just a small one to light one's way - a wild, untamed circle, an explosion which grew in size and strength as they consumed oxygen. The flames danced, sliding along and expending to form a wall to his sides, just in case one of them just had the bright idea to sidestep him and go for the lady he was protecting. It had been a while since he had finally felt in control again. It had been awhile since he had a reason to do this - a person to protect, something to fight for, something to bother living for. This woman... had him curious, and he himself did not seem keen on dying until he knew more.

As a last touch, another pair of flames formed, growing and expending wildly, forming what seemed to be a pair of flaming wing. Of course, Adrian knew they where not - and the Weaver would also notice they were not from where she looked on - to those in front of him, they would definitively look like they would be attached. But they worked well for intimidation factor. He definitively had experience in doing this, as even the tips came no wear near enough to threaten to burn her.

And he stands, in the epicenter of heat and flames, and does not seem to be bothered in the least. "Well, if you insist..." He grinned a cocky grin, arms crossing in front of his chest, one eyebrow raising, his yellow eyes glowing as if they were flames themselves. "I am sure I can spare -something-..."

There was no question on exactly what. If they were looking for trouble, he was more than willing to deliver. He waited, giving the thugs one last chance to flee and leave the two of them alone. "I am the Pyreflame. You should go bother someone else, this girl is under my protection." Maybe they had heard of him. Maybe they hadn't. One thing sure, if they had just a bit of brain, they would scamper off right about now.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Half formed plans unravel in the span of a second. With the oddly reassuring clasp of Adrian's hand gone from hers, the Weaver spins as her companion flips in the direction of the oncoming thugs. "No ..."

Her voice is not one for shouting, though once again she throws it to be near her guide's ear. This reprimand is not meant for those who seek them harm. As Adrian's knee connects, her voice continues on. "You'll be surrounded ..."

Her eyes meet his as he looks back to her, and the resulting pattern within his emotions keeps her still despite her urge to go to him. Standing at her full height of five feet and one treasured extra inch with the hand he let go of still reaching for him, she's the picture of focused confusion. Trained on him, she gets ready to draw upon her element to swell her wings to fullness and carry Adrian away to safety.

The goddess is thus posed when Adrian's gift flowers in a ring about them. Wisely, she doesn't move, though her extended hand gives a nervous quiver. If ever there was a display to remind her of her weakened state, this is it. Yet there is a primal beauty she cannot deny in the flames that lap at the air, greedily seeking more to fuel their endless hunger.

She can easily make out the shapes of the men who got caught in the flames as they formed, but even if her sharp eyes couldn't place them in the dazzling glow cast off from the flaming circle, the sounds of their squirming on the ground to roll out what parts of their clothing caught fire along with their frightened squawks would be enough. The majority came to a standstill when Adrian played his intimidation card, waiting for word from their presumed leader before giving in to the need to run. Some have already broken from the mob and taken off noisily.

The lean arm drops, slowly, as Shadow's attention is absorbed by the wings now between her and Adrian. She's never been quite this warm before without being intimately close to someone that's served as her source. The air an inch beyond her skin is quite chilly, however, with her absorbing whatever heat his fire is casting off into herself faster than it can keep up. There are no holds barred here, for the restraint that she'd damage the one providing her with warmth is gone. It's ... exhilarating. Enough so that when he declares that she's under his protection, she gives an approvingly throaty purr. "I see I underestimated you, Adrian. I shall not do so again."

The name he's tossed as if a grenade at his opponents' feet is one that had been brought to her ears by one of her sister's agents, of all folk. Not much was then known of the rumored Master of the Flame, as some called him, and she recalls having enough interest to decide on making the attempt to seek him out when she was able. What a delicious irony this is proving to be.

The one that spoke before pats out the last bit of flame from his vest, his scowl making red eyes glitter menacingly. "I was wonderin' when you'd show yourself. Pyreflame, huh? Some kinda upstart is what you are."

He sounds confident, and that reinforces the moral of a good deal of those who follow him. Like a pack of wolves, they draw strength from their alpha, gathering around behind him to glare not quite as impressively as he does.

"Nice tricks you've got going there, but your wasting them on that slip of a girl? Heh. Damn stupid. I've seen prettier."

The Weaver twitches in place, what little darkness the fire hasn't devoured coiling about her feet in near visible swirls.

Zero Dream

The leader's confidence seems to do little to scare Adrian, however, who has not moved an inch. That is, until his last comment, in which his eyes narrowed and his flames only burst up with more intensity. In the back, a few more goons are seen scampering off. Almost down to half, now... this was starting to look more and more manageable. What an idiot... Of course, now the situation seemed familiar to him. Was it not in a almost similar setting that he had met...

No matter.

He may had failed Lyra with his absence, but he will not fail Shadow, he decided. It would be what she would have wanted him to do.

The red-haired man does not even bother giving the other any kind of answer just yet. Instead, he charges, driven off by anger and igniting about anything that dares to stand in between him and his target, a hand, free of flame but definitively hot enough to burn as it gets close to the skin of his neck, graps him by the collar and slams the leader into a nearby wall. The flames surrounding them, along with Adrian's tow hands securing him in place, are enough to at least keep him still for a moment. They also makes sure most of the others will stay right put, in fear of being burned themselves. At least, it was how it usually worked.

"You know what..." His voice was deep. Low. Dangerous. "Pack up your goons and leave, and you all get to leave intact. If you don't, ill kill you first as an example..." As if to prove his point, the flames grow brighter, wilder, and most of all, closer. Once again, his clothing starts to catch on fire. "What do you decide ? And hurry up, my patience has very low limits..."

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Shouts of disbelief and pain do their best to interrupt Adrian as he growls his warning to the one he's got pinned against a dank brick wall. There had been no interventions on the crowd's part, only mass panic as their leader's illusion of strength shatters like glass on the trash strewn sidewalk.

Which matters little to the Weaver, for in this moment she's stalking after Adrian, more trained on who he's holding by their collar than he himself. She deftly avoids the still crackling gouts of flame that have yet to die, their path staking out what direction their creator went to bring the thug leader's ego crashing down about his ankles. She comes to stand by Adrian just in time to avoid being sizzled by the flames of the very one who is seeking to protect her. She doesn't seek to ruin his display of controlled violence, staying to the side so she can watch the play of the trapped man's emotions across his face as well as feel them. It's always proved more satisfying that way.

"Fine ... but let them go first." Crimson eyes narrow, staring straight into Adrian's without flinching. He'd stopped moving when Adrian grabbed him by the collar, but before then he'd looked as if deciding something. Since being slammed to the wall, there's been no sign of resistance or fear, only a hint of shame and embarrassment, likely from letting himself get taken by surprise. Those of his gang that are trapped by the flaring heat all around them are now his concern, not the fate of these two interlopers.

Hmmm. The goddess tilts her head as she puzzles over the musclebound keeper of this rag-tag group. Beggars and thieves from the look of them, normally the sort of folk she'd be enticing into her service. They usually have the beginnings of the skill sets she requires, and most clean up rather nicely. This one, despite his earlier attitude, has some of the qualities necessary for a true leader. Such a shame he's wasting his and his people's time with empty threats on less than wealthy passerby. Letting his comment on her looks pass, now believing it to have been his way of trying to get under Adrian's skin, she murmurs to send her words to Adrian's ear and no other, though there is the very slim chance the red-eyed man will overhear "Yes, please let them go. I'm certain they will scatter the moment you do."

If they do not, they will regret it. The Weaver has not forgotten about her shadow's shadowkin passenger, and will unleash him if she must. Alimus doesn't bother to comment on that possibility, though he does get himself ready to leap from his hiding place to be at the Weaver's defense should the need arise.

Zero Dream

At first, Adrian did not move. At least, the flames have also stopped, and then slid back a bit - enough for some serious heat, but no longer hot enough to threaten to burn him whole. In the back, the flames circling the gang members slowly flicker off and die, freeing them.

"Get lost." He does not even bother to turn. "Quick and nice, if you don't feel like finding a new leader." The tone of his voice lets the thugs know that he is -very- serious in his threat.

You just might have been an half-decent man, if you've taken another direction with what you've been given. Strangely, Adrian's thoughts are similar to the Weaver's owns.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

They need not be told a second time. Those that had remained disperse as if leaves in the wind, scattering in all directions at once with only a minimal pattern to their departure. This leaves their "leader" alone with Adrian and Shadow.

Not the best place to be, at least for this individual in this moment.

With the threat of being burned alive likely passed, the pinned man gives Adrian, who still has the focus of his attention, a very sincere glower. "At least you kept your end, but I'm noticin' I'm no closer to the ground. What do you want now?"

The Weaver slinks a bit closer, enough so that her aura's sucking in the heat in the air around her may brush against Adrian's right side, but only just. "What do you intend, Pyreflame?"

She's actually quite curious just what Adrian will do now. The possibilities are near endless. Yet regardless of what may come, she makes a note of this part of the city. She will have to return later, to see who has escaped corruption long enough to be worth saving.

Zero Dream

And at least, when the last of the goons has left, Adrian keeps his end of the bargain and lets the man back on his feet, darting back so that he can move away without fear of being roasted. At least, he calls his flames back into himself - which is exactly what it is, as they meld in his skin, then fade. Particular, but the man had long ago gave up on figuring out how it was so.

"We should keep on moving, probably. I lost the trail, but I don't think we're too far away." He finally answers, taking a moment to catch his breath. The display of power was not without it's cost.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

That glower does not leave the man's face, even as he touches down upon the familiar alley floor. Yet the one that fancies himself Pyreflame did as he said, and so will he. So goes the code he lives by, skewed at times though it may be. Pride, however, requires of him to make a statement before slinking off into the dark. "Come back when you're ready for a real match, Upstart."

He's seemingly ignored by the woman with gray edged green eyes as he strides away at a casual pace, but in truth the Weaver is appraising him from the corner of what appears to be riveted upon her "protector". She lets him go, reining in her body's greedy hunger for warmth so when she slides closer to Adrian it does not seek to consume the heat that fuels his life's flame.

"You will find it again," she assures him, an arm made warm by what was stolen from his gift sliding slowly across the small of his back. She intends to support his weight with her small frame if need be. If her host is anything, she is far sturdier than she appears. Yet physical contact of any sort with someone who has caught her interest as Adrian has is welcome regardless of the reason. "Thank you. It has been a long time since someone has gone through such effort to protect me."

Memories lurk, seeking to push their way to the forefront of her mind. She scatters them with minimal effort. They are but ghosts now, of moments in time that may never come again.

"We were walking this way, were we not?" She gestures in the opposite direction of the street gang's flight.

Zero Dream

Adrian himself gave no answer to the fleeing man - it would have been a true waste of words to do so. That, and he was not really planning to ever meeting him again. Else he gives him more than a scare next time...

"I'll be fine." He slides away from the weaver's grasp - part male pride, part actual truth, as he stumble a few steps, but remains still on his own two legs. "Yeah, that was where we were going, weren't we ? If we follow down that street, we'll get straight to the center, I think. It's hard to tell, with most of the streetlights being broken."

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

His choice to move away hardly affronts Shadow, though she has to admit to the twang of disappointment that vibrates her Weave as a result. What's so strange about it is that a bit of pride joins it soon after. Not pride for herself, but in him for being so independent and refusing to lean on her. Very strange, indeed.

"Have they been broken since you first arrived?" Making conversation with what she's been given, she makes to be at his side again, though she does not make another move to touch him. The warmth his fire had provided her with is already starting to slip away, no matter how hard she tries to retain it. She's simply not strong enough yet to do so, and that irks her.

While she is following his instructions as they move along, the Weaver doesn't look as if she's being led directly, being by him as she is. This is of course intentional, and will allow her to react faster to anyone who may seek to surround them again. Adrian sought to hide how his earlier display drained him, but he did not fool Shadow. If the situation from before repeats itself this evening, she will be the one to protect him, whether he likes it or not.

"Ah, I think I see it! Is that it, over there?" Enthusiastic though she may be, her voice is never louder than a whisper, even as a silvery-gray finger points over to a distinctly white building that seems to hover a goodly distance from them. It's as if a ghost in the mists of some horror movie, but without the spooky noises or slapped together background music.

Zero Dream

"Some just break, sometimes stay gunshots hit them." He shrugged - it was useless to try to hide the way the world was. It's not like not talking about it would solve the issue. "They were almost all out when I first came here."

How long ago ? He had lost track of time - he could not tell. Time wasn't really important in a situation like his, beside the differences of day and nights. Days could be a tiny bit safer...

When Shadow announces that she may have found it, he leaned just a bit forward, as if this would help him see any - and squinted a bit. "Yeah... I think that's it, actually."

This was confirmed as they made it to the building itself a few minutes later, and Adrian paused for a moment. "Well... There we are." What was he supposed to do now ? Leave, go on his way ? Yet there was... something about that woman. Something that made him want to know more. "Why did you come here, anyway ?" It did not seem like the best place to stay at.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

She's taken to one of Eirnae's habits, and doesn't fight it this time, either, canting her head to one side as if an inquisitive feline. The goddess has found that such brings out the gleam in her host's eyes, which are even now brightening in color due to the improvement of her mood. Gray tipped dark gold slides over one shoulder, glinting in the light provided by the front of the establishment.

"For the public baths, of course. They provide a service many have forgotten, and get rid of all sorts of silly notions, like public nudity being a so-called sin."

She laughs, the sound as sensual as her whispers tend to be, and just as quiet. "Would you join me? I've quite enjoyed your company, and would prefer to not be parted from you just yet. We have much we've not yet discussed, wouldn't you say?"

Zero Dream

....Oh.

On one side, he's getting even more and more curious, to the point that it is almost maddening. On another, it just seemed wrong for him to go hang out naked with well, anyone, so soon after the death of the woman he had loved.

On yet another angle, he couldn't shake the notion that she would probably have whacked him with a heavy hammer if she could have, for allowing himself to slip and take so long to mourn. Now the flames are awakened again, and the world seems to be just a bit less dark.

Also... he really... really... really needed a bath, didn't he ? He looked positively awful, he suddenly was aware of.

But still, naked with a near-perfect stranger in a public bathouse ? He could almost hear Lyra laugh her a** off from... wherever dead people go. To think, a few years ago, he would have jumped on the occasion with no hesitation. Guess she tamed me.. He barely stiffed down a laugh.

"Well... I do need a bath, I guess."

Beside, he could cheat. And keep his boxers on.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Her smile gains a hint of mischief, the green in her eyes sparkling like polished gemstones. Sidestepping, she latches an arm about his waist before he can protest and proceeds to usher him into the establishment.

"Good, then you'll bathe with me. I know the perfect technique to make the knots in one's hair come right out. Smooth as silk and twice as fine. You'll see!"

My, she's chipper, or seems it. Shadow's steps are quick, steady and placed just right to keep Adrian from stumbling or heading back. Especially to keep him from heading back.

Straight up to the front desk she nudges him, giving the woman behind it a sweet as honey smile, only then letting Adrian go at his own pace, demurely returning her limb to be tucked behind her back. "We'd like a room for the night, please. Do you have one with two beds?"

When the answer is no, she hides her amusement rather well, focusing it instead into a concerned frown. "Oh, I see. Well, the one bed will do just fine, then. The use of the baths comes with the rental, correct? Ah, thank you!"

Poor Adrian is being herded again, this time with both of her hands to his back, gently pushing him off in the direction the young woman indicated the baths can eventually be found. "Thank you!"

However Shadow managed to sound so youthful and innocent, yet full of sexual promise, is anyone's guess. She'd also not gone even an octave above her usual whisper, which she favors Adrian with once they are past the threshold of the changing room adjourning the baths. "Do you mind if I leave you here for a time while I go and pay our hostess for our stay?"

Sure, she could very well have made the attempt to have the woman they spoke with ignore their presence altogether, but she wants to start out on the right foot with Adrian. Besides, this place seems worth the investment, even if only for one night. She's liked what she's seen thus far, the building's structure reminding of times past.

It must be an off night for the hotel, as they seem to be the only folk present in the changing room, and there is only one lonely little pile of folded clothing upon a bench by the far wall.

Zero Dream

The second he sees that time and that twinkle, he knows. He just knows that he's in for a wild run, but before fleeing even becomes an option in his mind. Bathe with her ?! The idea has crossed his mind, but now that it seems to have become tangible reality, he finds himself wishing that the bathhouse forced gender separations...

If the prospect of bathing with a bare-naked lady whom he barely knows a thing off tending to the tangled mop that makes office of his hairs at the moment wasn't worrisome enough, he soon learns that he is apparently spending the night. In the same room. And soon, he learns, in the same BED. The redhead opens his mouth to protest, but he finds himself carted off before the words can make themselves known.

Oh dear. Oh dear. The look on his face, akin to the one of a deer stuck in the headlights, would probably amuse the woman behind the desk greatly.

"Uh.. Yeah, sure. Sure." Oh crap. Oh crap. As the Weaver leaves, Adrian finds his mind racing, as he stubbornly does not undress. He could make up some kind of excuse to leave after the bath - but where ? It was kind of counter-productive to bathe, only to go sleep in dirt again.

Oh dear.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

It doesn't take her long at all to leave a payment for the lady at the desk, who had quite the little joke to share about young men and wet clothing. At least, she hopes it was a joke. She has no intention of finding out just how snappy a wet shirt can really be against Adrian's buttocks. The fellow looked about ready to bolt as is.

Giving the pleasant clerk a little wave, she heads back towards the changing room as quickly as her feet can carry her. Poking her head inside, she chuckles when her suspicions are confirmed. Adrian hasn't removed a single piece of clothing yet.

Sliding just past the open archway, she leans against the wall, keeping her arms behind her and crossed so her forearms touch. "Feeling shy, Pyreflame?" she teases, one foot pointing its toes as it slides in a half arc, her loincloth shifting enough so still more shapely leg is shown off. "Did you want me to cover my eyes like a good girl?"

Zero Dream

And then, suddenly, his face turns as red as his head.

"Well, I am not used to stripping down in the first encounter, if you know what I mean." Oh, this was where a good shot of liquid courage would have really helped. Whoa, shifting clothing. Now that was an odd thing.

God damnit, Adrian Kitan, make a damn man of yourself. And so - while still blushing in full force, mind you - the shirt comes off first, and is promptly discarded as far as he can get it. Damn, he hadn't noticed how filthy it was before now. Clothing was pretty much ruined. The situation was steadily growing more and more weird. No fancy moves, no mock striptease - this was hard enough for him. The boots are kicked off next, as well as socks. The pants come off last, discarded in the same fashion as the shirt, leaving him standing only in boxers, which he shows do want to take off. At all.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

As each piece is flung haphazardly, Shadow steps forward, though the temptation to lurk and simply watch as layer upon filthy layer is peeled away to reveal the finely muscled body she'd suspected was hidden beneath. Mmm ... Yes, he ought to clean up rather nicely.

The urge to touch what she's admiring comes and is shoved away. Just as with the desk clerk's teasing suggestion, she's convinced that her sidling up to him would only frighten him. She's gotten him this far, there would be no sense in risking the evening being a complete waste of time by her moving too fast.

"Going to be washing those the old fashioned way, I see," is her only comment for him leaving his boxers on and making no move to remove them. Fair enough, she'll let him keep his security blanket, if only as payment for that appealing full body blush of his.

He's shown off his gift to her, and at a cost to himself he had yet to reveal. What was the price paid, she wonders? Such a destructive force ... Her clothes dissolve into the shadows they were woven from the moment she stops concentrating upon their existence. Her lean dancer's build is readily apparent though she has her back to him just then, covered only by the ripple of her hair just past the line of her shoulders.

"The water is this way," she murmurs, turning her head to give him a brief glimpse of her body's profile before walking into the steamy center of the bathhouse.

 

[A Wandering Esper]

Zero Dream

And, as he suspected, and somewhat dreaded, the lady had to sense of physical shame.

Oh damn. Oh damn. Oh damn.

Stop staring.

But damn, that fading clothing thing... Perhaps a shadowmancer of some sort ? That would explain the name, then.

Of course, his brain matters were now occupied elsewhere, as he followed to the bathhouse. He hadn't imagined it would be this steamy, and he glances at the water with a look of both longing and dread. Longing because, damnit, he was finally getting clean. Dread because usually, getting clean involved showers, not large pools of wet stuff in which he would find himself stuck in for god only knew how long. Even the air itself was thick in moisture that just seemed to cling to his skin. Adrian then decides to wait for her to get inside first.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

There's no hesitation on her part when it comes to entering one of the four pools, picking the closest one and starting into it with careful footsteps on the abundant tile. The water is blessedly hot, bubbling here and there where pockets of trapped air gather and then burst upon reaching the surface.

To describe her slow descent is as to draw the eyes first to glimmering silver-gray skin that flows over legs that are quite long for her height. This is smoothed over the curves of her pert rump, but gives way to the lightly tan flesh of her host about midway up her lower back. Relaxed though she may be, the muscles that flex as she moves and the provocative sway of her hips suggest that she's a woman who isn't prone to holding back once unleashed. Up lift her arms, reaching to tuck up her hair with both hands and weave the shoulder length waves into a loose braid before spinning that into a bun at the nape of her neck. All of this shows off how the muscles of her back come into play, though the fact that she's now somewhat covered by the surface of the water from the waist down prevents any glances to see just what's going on below.

With her arms still held up she turns, not bothering to cover her nakedness as she gives her bun one last little pat. "The water feels wonderful, Adrian. Do come and try it. I promise I won't braid your hair, this time."

There's that mischievous little smile again.

Zero Dream

For a moment, it seems the redhead is mesmerized by the slow, seductive decent of his companion. Damn, she has to be doing this on purpose... It is quite hard for him to resist, even with the looming reminder of his loss always on his shoulders.

He gives the water one last glare, then dips a foot in. At least it is hot water. Not hot enough, but it's better than cold water. Cold water is quite simply the worst thing in existence, as far as he is concerned. Another foot in, and he ungracefully let himself sink, pretty sure that if he was to spend any more time doing a grand entrance, he would just have backed right out. Already he's scrubbing. Not a water fan in away way, shape, or form.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

His appreciation is taken in with a subtle upward curve of her already present smile. After he enters the water and drops like a stone till he's seated, hands already in motion to smear the grime on his skin, Shadow saunters in close to her likely grimacing company. As he's taller than she, the Weaver finds the position of being behind him more favorable, as it gives her a bit more height when she sits down upon the steps leading down into the pool.

"You won't mind if I wash your back, would you?" she inquires innocently enough, gray fingers claiming one of the wash cloths that are piled by the poolside, then dipping it into the water and letting it soak. "Lilac soap, mm? I'd have thought you'd choose the vanilla."

She's teasing him of course, but it's meant to be good natured. A hand still quite boreal, as the calidity of the water has yet to be soaked in by that portion of her body, settles by his left shoulder. It's an inquiring touch, a mere brush of skin on skin.

Zero Dream

"Go for it." Quicker washing meant quicker way out of here. "And in all honestly, I probably would have, should I have taken the time to pick..." He hadn't even noticed the soap was scented until now.

"Yeah... Don't take it personally, I just don't like water very much. The most I usually do are showers. Ill just climb off after we're done, if you don't mind." The steam was also a bit bothering to him, but he'll have more chances to tolerate that for a long length of time, as long as the weaver would wish to remain in the water.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

The vanilla soap is plucked up and put to use by the very cloth she's prepared, and soon she's scrubbing at his back as if it's something she does every day.

Oh, how her father would be glowering right about now. The Lady Weaver, acting as a servant would for a mere mortal? Perish the thought.

Smirking, she puts both hands to work, starting at his shoulders and working her way down, making sure to get each inch of skin rubbed clean, pink, and likely tingling. Her beaded bracelet clinks softly as her arms are kept in motion, and her necklace swings just slightly between her bared breasts, which the water is scarcely touching.

"Then you'll hopefully not take offense when I say that I'm not shocked at your dislike for water. I can easily picture you darting under the eaves of the nearest building when rain threatens."

What is with her and her fascination with folk who act like cats? Heh.

"But I've got you in here now, and I'm going to make the most of it ... Ah, there."

She waits a moment, letting her part of the conversation lapse just long enough to make sure he pays special attention to what's coming up. "Now, turn around."

Zero Dream

"That would be right." Others always thought it was funny when he did that. But it was not funny at all. Blasted rain.

He was about to answer that he'd pretty much had his front taken care of, but he figured it would do him little good to argue. Less arguing meant out of the water faster, after all. Had she been any taller or he any smaller, he would have worried about coming face to face with.... ...well... but that wasn't the case so, hoping this would conclude with himself coming out of the evil wet stuff, he turned around.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

She'd been a good girl and left his rear alone, so when he complies, she lets herself indulge with a slow grazing of her swiftly cooling palms and the pads of her fingers from his collarbone to about his navel. Granted she has to reach up to accomplish this, but she does so anyway.

Mmm ... He's built so much like Shade, it's deliciously uncanny. He's taller, though, and he hasn't lost that fire in his eyes.

Body heat soaks into her skin, the wash cloth temporarily forgotten as it splashes into the water, having slipped from her loose grip. Her hands slide up with her as she makes to stand, which puts her height about even with his due to the steps.

Leaning forward an inch or so, her soft voice purrs, "Perhaps I ought to wash your face instead. You've been quite thorough on your own. Lest you wish me to replace the scent your efforts have lathered upon your flesh? I won't mind."

Zero Dream

When her cold hands touch his skin, he can't help but shiver a bit. She was cold - not as cold as her... And she steadily was getting warmer as her hands wandered upward.

It was a good thing Lyra and Shadow looked nothing alike, else he would probably have gone crazy. He let himself lean into her touch for a moment, but eventually his mind reminds itself that it isn't her, and sadness replaces the fire in his eyes for a moment. His fire was weak, only rekindled because of the same woman that leaned toward him - already, it seemed to threaten to fade once more, to become mere embers. He wasn't even sure why he was letting her do all this...

"Ill't be fine." He says, softly, ducking softly out of her embrace, one arm moving to support her so she would not fall in the water face-first - when she seemed stable, he let go, and stepped out - as promised, he only sat at the edge, but he seemed... distant. Something was definitively on his mind - and there were open wounds on his soul.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

If anyone can tell that Adrian is feeling anything but "fine", it's the Weaver. He'd been responding to her, and then it'd all been drawn inside. She knows that look in his eyes, having seen it time and time again. He's missing someone, someone dear to him.

That saps the urge to flirt out of her faster than an overeager vampire drains a meal. She's already experienced the pain that messing with such a bond can cause, and has no interest in giving Fate an opening to tear another chunk out of her sanity.

That doesn't mean she's going to leave him to wallow in his misery, either. Sliding from one mode to the next, she slips one persona's mask off and ties on another.

"You know the best part about having company in a place like this?" Careful steps bring her close, but not too close, this time giving him some personal space. "You can talk about anything here, with every subject open to be brought to the fore. Better yet, those involved can't say anything afterward."

Winking with a modicum of playfulness, she continues. "Rumors dug up from public bathhouses are hardly solid, anyway."

Zero Dream

"I guess so." He answered idly, distantly, not sure if he should speak of it. After all, they've only just met, but Shadow had some kind of magnetism - she seems to read him like a book, and always manages to find the one way to pull himself in.

He's not even sure if he cares if it's only just an act.

"...It's not your fault, really. It's me. About two weeks ago, I left for the day to try to find some work. When I came back, my parents and my fiance were dead, and what little things we managed to save after my parents' mansion burnt down were stolen. The only thing I have left is that strange wand." He was sure she had noticed it, strapped to his side during the whole way to the hotel. "...You're a bit like her. On a personality level, anyway."

And that's why I couldn't let you get hurt. But he left that part unsaid.

"But you know, I've been telling you an awful lot, and I know next to nothing about you..."

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Ah. Her Weave shudders, the emotions of her own experiences of this sort momentarily filling her to the brim. Rethreading them back in would take longer than she's willing to pause this conversation, so she hides the sudden sadness in her eyes by moving in one swift and graceful motion to sit down beside Adrian.

A hand settles gently atop one of his own, but she makes no further contact beyond that. Before she may have teasingly bumped him with a hip, or rested a cheek on his shoulder. If she'd thought he'd not shove her off, she'd might even have crawled onto his lap. Now she's quiet in a different sense than just hushed speech, her mood subdued and respectful for those who have passed. Even a goddess of Shadow wishes no ill will on the spirits who have left this world.

"By the sound of it, she and I may have appreciated one another." He's had so little time to heal, it's no wonder his heart is so raw and open. Is this the common thread she'd felt tying up her attention when they'd first met? "I appreciate your apology, though your explanation more so."

She'd been wondering when they'd get to this part of their verbal exchange, when he'd be curious about her. This certainly won't be the first time she's informed someone of her divine status in a less than "normal" setting. But then, that will be only if he asks the proper questions. "What do you wish to know?"

Zero Dream

"Probably." He can't help but smile, faintly, at the thought of how the two, if they had ever met, would have probably turned his life upside down in a rather amazing and interesting way. But then he finds himself stuck. He wants to know, but what to ask ? What would be considered too much ? He does not shy away from her touch, and closes his eyes.

"Well, you told me your name... Or at least one of them... But I do not know what you do, where you come from... Or why you bother dragging filthy alley boys into bathouses, or why you apparently care about said alley boy's heartbreak to stop flirting in an instant. Or why you are so cold, almost like her." The shadows of a playful smirk draws upon his lips. "I doubt it's all about my pretty eyes, so consider those my questions, lady Shadow."

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Yes, those were certainly the right questions. Directness has been serving her fairly well since her rebirth, and so she sees no point in not answering him in the same manner in which his inquiries were asked.

"You'd be correct to presume I have many names. If you ask me nicely, I'll share some others with you." His hand receives a light pat, and then, "Have you heard the rumors of gods from the past returning? A new era is coming upon Gaia as a result."

His slight smirk provokes her other hand to lift and brush one side of his lips with a fingertip. "I carry the stigma of my element, Adrian. I have no warmth of my own, for the Weaver of Shadows was spun from what she controls."

"As for my caring, you question it as if you are undeserving. I saw something in you worth saving. I still do." She gives him a playful wink. "Though your eyes are lovely."

Zero Dream

"I have heard rumors." He says, staying put once again, trying not to let the steam bother him. "Very vagues one, mind you. I doubted they were true." He gave her a side-glance, almost like a curious child trying to figure something out. "So you mean..."

That could explain things, but in all honestly, he had no idea what to think. He'd never seen a shadowmancer that skilled, at any rate. And a new age ? Good or bad, keeping in mind the fact that the world seemed to be well on it's way to going to hell in an handbasket ? But there was something particular about her...

Still... he wanted to believe her. And so, he did. "...There are gods. And you happen to be one of them ?"

Maybe it was foolish, but he didn't care. At this point, he was desperate to have something to hold on to.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

She nods, making sure that he's watching her as she does. Tactile oriented as she is, she understands that touch can be a comfort unto itself, and so her fingers trail across one of his cheeks, continuing to caress him until asked or made to stop.

"Aye, I am. You hopefully have guessed which one by now, mm?" She doesn't give him time to reply, as she's already offering him a bit more, letting him digest this news piece by piece. "I am the Weaver of Shadows, the Lady of Masks, and the Cloak of Night, amongst others. They who seek sanctum in the shadows call my name, and I wrap them in my arms."

"I am not the only one who has returned. My sister, the Keeper of Wind, she also gathers her own to her side. The rest do the same. We will overturn this darkness and bring back the Balance."

Zero Dream

And as she answered his question, he nodded. "Is there... anything I can do ? Anything ?" It was a foolish thing to ask, but he couldn't help himself.

This was probably the oddest situation he had even found himself in - in a bathhouse with a bare naked goddess of all things stroking him. What in the worlds.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

His eyes are studied intently, though hers are now heavily lidded. He sounds sincere, but its the emotions that call to her from within his heart that confirm how strongly he believes in his words. He wants to make a difference. Just from how she found him she knows he's seen much suffering in this world, this plane being overturned by Destruction.

His fiance', his parents, all victims of the tipping of the scales. Innocents fallen out of the grasp of the divine and fed to the coals below. "Yes, there is always something that can be done."

She smiles, soft and knowing, her stroking hand now cupping a cheek tenderly. "Believe. Choose not to live in the pain of ignorance and embrace the hope that we offer. Believe and live, if only to show the world that there is yet a chance the hurt will find an end."

Zero Dream

He listened, silent, and then, at last, nodded. He could try that, maybe. Maybe it would give his life some sense again.

Who knew what the future would bring ? At least, now, it seemed to look a bit brighter.

"I will. Ill do my best..."

Again, he paused, and, looking much like a kicked puppy, and therefore shattering any seriousness the moment ever had...

"Can we get out now ? The steam's starting to bother me."

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

The sudden shift in mood brings a soft husky laugh to the Weaver's lips. "Not before I get to wash your hair. I insist on that much."

The water trickles down her as she rises, sliding one side of her body against him, though it is unintentional. Her skin is soft over all that toned muscle, the sort that begs to be caressed despite how cold it may be.

It's just a few steps for her to reach the container of shampoo, plucking it up she returns to kneel behind him, squeezing a good deal of the vanilla scented stuff onto one palm before setting the bottle aside. "You'll need to dunk yourself," she instructs, giving one shoulder a pat with her shampoo-less hand, "If you make it quick, it won't be so terrible."

Zero Dream

Adrian made a face, but decided it was better not to argue. No arguing would equal out of this place sooner, hopefully, and so, he threw himself back in the bath before he could think of resisting, wincing a bit once he hit the water, but crouching to allow the goddess better access to the wet mop of red hair, doing his best not to fidget.

He sure really, really, really hated water tonight.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

True to her word, she immediately gets to kneading shampoo into his messy locks. Years of getting others to relax about her through simple acts of bonding, such as this, are what guide her body now. She gives in to the old instinct, letting memories tell her how to move, where to press and how hard. It's with a twining of intents that his hair is shampooed. She massages at his scalp to relax and sooth, with fingers moving at a rhythm that alters as needed to untangle his hair in a manner meant to cause as little pain as possible, despite what a nest it's become.

It takes some time for her to finish, due to both the length of his hair and the knotted condition she has to tame it out of, but it passes pleasantly for her. His warmth is hers during this period, and she gradually gets closer till his shoulders are pressing against her spread thighs. He's smelling better and better, and when she finally decides she's finishes, she bends over still more and murmurs, "Time to rinse, Adrian."

Zero Dream

It would probably have passed as pleasantly for him if he hadn't been chest-high in water, in all retrospect. At least the scent of vanilla, from his point of view on the matter, is getting so strong that it overtakes the wetness of the steam. He can't help but squirm a few times in general discomfort caused by the wet stuff, and when the goddess finally speaks, the pyromancer cringes, but dunks himself under the water, darting to the other side in movements that washes all the shampoo out of his red mane, only to finally emerge on the other side, literally lift himself out of the water with no stairs involved, and shakes himself, as if trying to wring out each and every water molecule from his hair and the surface of his body, looking much like a very disgrunted cat.

It's become official that he's not going back in there, goddess or not. Even the deity of water itself would not be able to force him back in as far as he was concerned.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Amusement ripples from Shadow as if she were the source of the pool, not the jets controlling its flow. She dives in after Adrian when he goes on his mission to rinse off, resurfacing not long after he does.

Just in time to get splattered by the water he casts off when he shakes.

Her hands fly in front of her face as her husky laugh reverberates by his right ear. It seems this goddess is ever projecting her voice, though which ear she focuses on appears to be determined by the whim of the moment.

"Wait just a moment, please," she cajoles before gripping the edge of the pool and doing the same as he did to get out of the water, showing off those lean muscles of hers again. Sure, she could have been even more showy about it, but what's the point? Sometimes the simplest way of doing things is best.

"I promised I'd get your hair tangle-free and "twice as fine", and I meant it. So, when we get to our room, you'll let me comb and then brush it for you. A favor you're welcome to return if the mood strikes you. Agreed?"

Glistening from the pool's waters still running down her bare form and standing with her hips cocked to one side and her silvery-gray hands perched upon them, she waits for his answer.

Zero Dream

When, at last, no water droplets fly off his form, Adrian settle down. Funny thing is, whichever ear the weaver chose to project her voice to always twitches as she talks - and it is likely the bearer of said ears has not noticed a thing about the fact.

"...That would probably be a good idea." In fact, while now clean, his hairs are now frizzy by the moisture and poofed by his attempts to dry them - giving a good idea of what he probably looks like in the mornings.

Let us just say it isn't really elegant.

"I think I might need new clothes." Counterproductive to slip back into dirty, old, breaking-down stuff. "Ill slip it with a bathrobe tomorrow or something."

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

A slim hand waves to dismiss that last notion of his. His ear twitching is indeed noticed, and brings out a soft chuckle before she murmurs, "No need for that just yet, though a robe does sound nice."

Not normally one to show off lest the situation calls for it, she considers her options before shrugging her shoulders and spreading out her arms. It takes a great deal of concentration to gather up some of the shadows in the room and weave them into a fluffy robe for herself, but when she's done she's wearing a soft, thick, and open bathrobe that reaches down to her ankles.

Tucking her new garment about herself, she ties its belt securely at her waist, talking all the while as she starts for the changing room at a casual pace that encourages her hips to keep up their slow sashay. "Coming? I know I saw some towels and a spare robe in here somewhere."

Zero Dream

Adrian couldn't help but watch when she formed her robe, really. It was a rather surprising and amazing thing, and a rather handy one as well. Kind of made him wish he could do that. Maybe he could have come close, some time ago, when his powers and will were not slipping in and out as they did right now.

He nodded and followed, taking one of the robes and a few towels before the pair made their way to their room.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

It's late enough that the woman behind the counter is closing up for the night, nodding and wishing her guests a "good time" with a none too subtle wink in the Weaver's direction. Shadow goes with it, even linking up arms with Adrian and returning the wink before giving her companion a light bump with a hip to get him moving again.

The fact that he's taller than her doesn't ruin the situation. In fact, it likely only makes it more humorous, for those who can appreciate the joke.

Once in the room Shadow's rented, she releases his arm and attends to closing the door behind them. Surveying the room shows it to have pale marbled walls with a tile floor done in a mosaic style. Fluffy rugs that are soft enough to give her pause and rub a foot's toes into afore mentioned fluff are by the door, the bed, the cozy fireplace built into one wall, and in front of a side door she believes will lead into the adjoining bathroom. The bed is more than spacey enough for the two of them to be in it at the same time and not touch, if they so choose. It certainly looks welcoming to the goddess, but that could just be because she's getting a bit tired from manipulating the shadows as much as she has over the course of the evening.

Wishing for the hundredth, possibly the thousandth, time that she didn't require rest in this half mortal "stage" she's going through, she decides to make her way to the bed and sit down on the edge. Feeling her robe open and slip to either side of her thigh, she hikes up one her legs to cross it over and on top of the other, just above her knee. "It's nice and warm in here, and without that pesky water that you dislike so much," she offers as a comment on the atmosphere of the room they are signed up to spend the rest of the night in. "Why don't you sit over here, then I'll get to your hair straightaway."

Her right hand pats the bed's comforter, indicating that he sit next to her. "You can even lay down, if you prefer."

Zero Dream

Adrian just made his way, and probably would have not noticed a thing if she lady had not spoken. At that, he perked up, and was about to say that it was not like that, but found himself quieted as the goddess latched onto him and pushed him to continue forward.

Ohhh dear.

The pyromancer couldn't help but stop in his tracks and stare once they entered the room. It looked much, much, MUCH better than he had expected it would be. How much had it cost, anyway ?! Well, if she was a goddess, she probably had her connections.

He does not need to be told twice, as the first thing he does is to spread the towels to make sure not to wet the sheets with his long red mane, and then he lay down on the bed. It's been a long time since he'd been in a bed like this - it brings back memories from before the world started going to hell in an handbasket.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Smiling, she watches as Adrian gets himself comfortable, then lifts her legs up to settle them on the bed, curling them to the side opposite of the pyromancer as she scoots closer to him. "There's some progress. Now, as much as I dislike having to dislodge your head from that cozy seeming pillow, let's try this ..."

Gentle hands seek to slip under Adrian's head, carefully lifting as Shadow edges over till it's an easy matter to nestle the back of that head upon her lap. Now smiling down at him, she wills her robe to return to the shadows it was woven from, a part of that sliding up one arm to solidify into a fine tooth comb that's black as ebony but lacking its luster. The Weaver's left hand plucks up a clump of silky but rumpled red hair and begins to comb at such from the ends up. "Isn't that better?" she practically purrs, though it's hard to say just what she's indicating. Could it be that she's once again nude and tending to him, or that he's in a nice room on a comfortable bed? Quite likely, she's referring to it all at once.

Zero Dream

By now, having the lady naked and fussing over some part of his body had lost lost most of its shock factor, to be honest. It wasn't like he would convince her otherwise, so why bother when he could just sit back and enjoy it ? Yes, that quite sounded like a plan indeed.

"Ill'd have to agree." He answers, eyes closing in order to just relax and enjoy the moment.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Fussing seems to be one of the goddess's main focuses in this new life of hers. If it isn't one thing, or person, it's another. That he's become somewhat used to her being without clothing relaxes her, as for now it's much easier for her to be wearing nothing at all. One less thing for her to have to concentrate on. It's also a sign that he's gotten just a hint more comfortable around her, which is promising unto itself.

"You clean up rather well, Pyreflame," she compliments as she meticulously works on his damp crimson locks, "Where will you go after this night? Hopefully not back to where I found you. There is another path that's seeking to reveal itself unto your eyes, you need but to be willing to see it."

Zero Dream

"I don't know." It probably wasn't the answer she was looking for, but at least it was an honest one."I... I will see what ill do when I get there, I guess. Thinking ahead never was a quality I had." To be honest, Lyra mostly had done all the thinking.

He wasn't quite sure what she meant by another path, but for now, it didn't matter. It's just as he said - he'll figure it out once he would get there. Right now, the moment was a bit too peaceful to bother adding deep thinking to the mix.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Nodding, she feels all the more keenly how much energy she's sapped with her weaving today. While her hands continue to move, it's with a sluggish stubbornness. She doesn't leave a job half finished.

"Tomorrow brings new opportunities for us all, Adrian," she murmurs, leaning down to brush his forehead with her cold, but soft, lips as the comb turns to wisps in her grip. Gray hands thread into his hair, holding him fast so he won't jolt and hurt her while she's vulnerable. There is not yet a natural trust between them, but perhaps the seed of it has been planted. "Rest now. We will see what comes with the rising of the sun."

Zero Dream

He tenses a bit when the sudden coldness makes it's presence known. It is an involuntary, yet extremely controlled reaction - nowhere near enough to hurt her, in fact if she hadn't slid her fingers in his long hairs, she may never have noticed. The kind of innate reaction that spoke of ingrained habit, of long-time control that had become a part of him.

Yes, tomorrow seemed like a much better time to bother with this whole thinking thing. He agreed entirely - and that, he was getting a bit tired as well.

Eirnae Slytherin-Natenhar

Rest sounds so sweet to her, especially that it will be with someone else. Someone warm. Drooping like one of her favorite flowers once their hour of glory has passed, she slides to the bed. Sea green and gray eyes close. Still mortal enough to tire, this goddess of shadows, she curls about her redheaded companion on the spot, her lap still serving as his pillow. Her cheek nuzzles against the side of his chest.

Thus, so felinely coiled, the Weaver drifts off into the reverie her host's elven heritage still furthers. There are to be no dreams for her, only the review of memories both hers and Eirnae's.

It's not till both she and Adrian are asleep does Alimus separate himself from Shadow's shadow and patrol the room. He'll watch over them throughout the night and into the morning, though the look he gives the slumbering Adrian is hardly friendly.