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Comfortable existence...most of the time.

Started by Anonymous, March 16, 2006, 10:08:12 PM

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Anonymous

Temesca had been leading a fair life in the kingdom of Serendipity.  She much preferred it to the one she had been left at, when she was expunged from the asassin's guild.  It had depressed her, for a little while, but she decided that she had to buck up and move on, afterall, she didn't want to stay someplace where war and violence was steeped into the very fabric of being.  She never quite understood why, but she always felt such things so strongly, and she could feel what other people felt, as well.  It had made her somewhat of a loner, but she still interacted enough to not seem like a recluse.

She had been living in this seaside town, Cerenis, for almost a year now, and she regarded it as home.  Granted, as a lone woman, she lived a little bit below the poverty line, but one would have had trouble noticing her tattered clothes and dirt-smudged skin if they focused only on her face and her smile, always shining brightly, and her blue eyes, as dark blue as the depths of the nearby sea, but as clear as the sky.  Her long hair, which matched her eyes, was often pulled back into a long plait, with the ends swishing just below her buttocks.  Every inch was healthy, not a split end in sight.

She lived in a small, one-room hovel, which she had made into a two-room by hanging up some discarded curtains she had found trashed outside of one of the richer citizen's homes.  The separated area was her bedroom and washroom, though she never had much of a chance to wash.  This isn't to say that she had no money--no, she had work at an inn in a nicer part of town, where she cooked some of the best meals the patrons had ever tasted.  She often worked late, finishing up the last of the evening's meals and doing the dishes, and walked alone through the town, back to her hovel.

It was on one such night, a cooler one, between the cold and warm seasons, that she was intercepted as she walked, humming softly to herself.  Three--no, four men emerged from the shadows as she entered the not-so-nice part of town that she resided in.  She noticed them and tried to quicken her pace, but they soon caught up to her, and two of the men wordlessly seized her by her arms and dragged her to an old building that they were hiding in.  She managed to let out one terrified cry before she vanished, with the men, into the building.

((Wheeee, damsel in distress!))

Anonymous

Well this was...inconvenient...  A young man wearing, a cloak and mask covering his nose and mouth, quirked a white brow, his pale red eyes cool and calm.  His black skin almost matched the dark clothes he wore, it being night.  The cloak covered past his arms, hiding his hands his pants were tight and slender, meant for stealth.  The Drow let out a soft sigh, and closed his eyes, his brow furrowing slightly.  The girl had screamed...  Probably taken by some thugs...  Well, he couldn’t let her be dragged off...  That would take away his purpose...  Why did this have to happen to him?  Such a simple task turned difficult because of some sour intrusion...  The young Drow relaxed and stepped out of the shadows from where he blended so well, his eyes opening and staring forward.  

In a flash, the boy darted of swiftly and silently running, his arms hidden and unmoving with his body slanted forward in his pace.  He was nimble and strong, passing the dark corner where the men took her and leaping before any could notice.  His ears twitched, hearing just barely, her muffled screams.  He sighed again from the next-door rooftop.  Guess I should do something...  Preferably before she gets hurt...  

A little bit after the men had dragged the poor girl inside, the door creaked open ever so slowly, the dark figure standing in the door way, sharp eyes focused forward.  He stood lazily and silent before walking slowly inside the room.  He sure took his dear sweet time to actually go and help.  It didn’t matter how many men there were.  It was all the same.  She just needed to be alive, right?  Not that he liked women being hurt and taken advantage of.  It was rather sickening.  Those eyes drifted over to the girl, where he hard her voice and he just stared at her, almost without a care.  He breathed in tranquilly.  He knew where the men were.  He could feel the inside of this entire room.

Anonymous

She was stuggling helplessly against the four men in a corner, the long skirt of her dress torn up to her thigh, and the front torn open, exposing her busom.  One of the men towards the back, not so actively involved in Temesca's violation, detected the drow in the back, and turned to look at him.  He scoffed.  "Who're you?" he asked, causing the other men to stop and turn their attention to the newcomer as well.

Temesca stared at the backlit drow with wide, terrified eyes, unable to communicate anything verbally for fear of some kind of retaliation from the men who had grabbed her.  'Help me,' her eyes sobbed, 'please help me...'

Anonymous

He may not have been able to see her eyes, but he could tell she was scared.  She was shaking.  He sighed again, his eyes unblinking.  They shifted to the man who acknowledged him.  'What? You have a problem?' is what they showed, the lower half of his face still guised by his mask.  After a moment of silence, the Drow finally spoke.  "You have something that belongs to me..." he said smoothly, his voice soft and cool.  "I will take it back, and your lives as well."  He threatened.  His hands were still hidden under his cloak, but he stood firmly, unwavering.  

"There is no place for the likes of you in this already degrading world.  I shall free you from this pitiful existence." He continued.  "And I shall start with you."

Anonymous

"Feh," the first man scoffed as the other three looked back to their terrified, half-naked prize, "yer just a li'l wet-behind-th'-ears pup!  Come back when yeh've got somethin' t'offer!"  He laughs, then turns his attention back to Temesca, turning his back on the Drow.

Anonymous

In an instant, the man's head slid from his neck, hitting the floor before his body even collapsed.  The young Drow's arm was raised, long blade extended from an armband he wore.  His cloak ruffled up, showing his very slender and almost feminine body.  "Now...you." hid eyes turned to the next man, his arm still raised.  In a puff, his body flexed, his arm lowering, and he lunged, so fast, it was hard for the man to see before his skull was sliced upward, right down the middle of his face.  The man's head split open, blood splattering over the girl's face as his body fell away from her.  His head then turned slowly, eyes locked onto the man now next to him.  

"Now...You."

Anonymous

The third man the drow targeted panicked and started scrambling away from Temesca, who pulled her knees up to her chest and covered her face with her arms.  The third man and the fourth grabbed each other and each raced for the door, stumbling over each other and their own feet as they did.

Anonymous

You cannot escape your fate.  Eyes watched over his shoulder as the last two men scrambled.  He relaxed, straightening his body, and gazed down at the girl again.  His knees bent only slightly, and he was gone again.  The Drow occupied the doorway once more, his body crouched in a stance, and he stood slowly.  Both men stopped in fear, but it was ended quickly.  Their fear only lasted a second before their hearts stopped.  Blood ran down the back of their shirts, from through the ribcages where their hearts were severed at the arteries.  He swiped his blade across their chests before the fell backwards, cleaning the blood and his blade retracted into the armband.  

All was done and he walked calmly back over to the girl, eyes locked onto her body.  Then he stood before her, his cloak ruffling when her stopped.  Very gently, his hand extended to her, palm up.  "I'm sure you wish to leave." He suggested, waiting for her to accept his hand.

Anonymous

She slowly pulls her arms away from her face and takes in the carnage around her, feeling sickness overwhelm her.  Her arms remain crossed over her chest as she looks up at the young man and his dark hand extended towards her.  "Wh-what do you want?" she asks nervously.  "Y-you're not here to kill me, too?"

Anonymous

Oh Lord...  He rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly.  He closed them for a moment to cam down, and then looked at her again.  "No...  Im not here to kill you..." replied as if it should have been obvious.  Now for her first question.  Right...  She wanted to know what he wanted...  Why should he tell her?  Well, if it gets her to cooperate, maybe it couldn’t hurt.  "I'm here to bring you to safety.  Now...please...  Come with me if you would..."  He almost had trouble saying 'please'.  His voice was soft.  He tried to coax, but that wasn’t one of his strong points.  

He then gave in and knelt before her, his white brow quirked curiously.  He couldn’t see her reaction and wondered.  Maybe she was too scared...  Maybe he had to persuade her a little more sincerely...  "A-are you all right...?" he asked gently.

Anonymous

She meets his gaze as he drops further down, not liking the exasperated sound of his sigh.  It only stood to reason that he might kill her, too--after all, she had just witnessed the murder of four men by his hands right in front of her, and he hadn't even flinched.  However, she ignored his exasperation and instead decided to focus on his kinder words.  He actually seemed concerned for her...but perhaps that was a ruse of some kind.

"...my clothes are torn," she says, unable to help her own slightly frustrated tone.  After all, the state of her clothing *was* fairly obvious, at least to her.  "I-I can't just go walking out there like this...it's indecent."

Anonymous

His brow quirked.  Torn...??  Uh...heh...  Hmmm...  He blinked at her, his eyes changed from calm to surprised.  He didn’t know the condition of her clothes...  So maybe he HAD gotten there a little late...  Oops...  After shaking off his shocked look, he closed his eyes and brought his hands to his neck.  He didn’t really want to take it off, but it was technically the right ting to do.  So he untied his cloak and took it off, the mask still on his face.  He handed it to the girl, wrapping it around her back, actually, and tying it around her neck.  He had to get closer to do so.  His hands were soft and his touch was gentle as he felt her skin to see what he was doing, though it may seem unusual for the girl, not knowing his handicap.  He finished and looked at her, placing his elbows on his squatted knees.  

After a moment, he thought that maybe his mask was too much as well.  This was only going to work if she trusted him, wasn’t it...?  He sighed mentally, thinking about taking it off.  He didn’t really want to...  He closed his eyes again after finally deciding, and he reached his hands around and removed his guise.  "See...?  All better...?" His face was slender like his body. He seemed almost delicate.  He couldn’t smile though...  That was going too far.  This was enough.  She could see him now, and she was covered.  He actually looked cuter without the mask.  Maybe that’s why he wore it...

Anonymous

After a slightly delayed reaction, the drow removed his cloak and wrapped it around her, tying it gently at her neck, which she hadn't expected.  She didn't understand the need for touching her neck and collarbone area, but then, he hadn't noticed her clothes, so perhaps there *was* something wrong with his eyes.

Then he removed his mask, which was completely unexpected, and asked if it was "all better".  He had a handsome face, lean but pretty, and she was shocked to see that he couldn't have been much older than she.  She nods as she shifts, pulling the cloak closed around her chest.  "Y-yes, that's better," she replied, thankful that she wasn't getting tongue-tied from his looks.

Anonymous

He sat there patiently as she calmed and replied to him.  Good, she was okay.  A tight sleeveless shirt covered his torso and both arms had matching bands.  Earrings hung from his pointed ears, swaying gently when he moved his face.  His hair was smooth and bangs of the white locks hanging somewhat in his face, the rest in a loose pony down his backside.  "Now...shall we be off then?  Unless...you want to stay here." He commented to the now bloodstained room.  She probably wanted to leave, but he had to make sure.  

"So, let us be off." He reached out and grabbed hold of her wrist.  He stood, pulling her up with him and then ran his hands down her face to make sure there were no cuts, and to maybe even wipe off the blood that may have dripped on her.  Now standing, he wasn’t much taller than the girl in comparison.  He stood at a mere five foot six inches.  He was unusual.  It was hard to tell if he was nice or oblivious.  His fingers roamed across her face then, feeling the shape and touching her soft skin.  Hmm... This was nice... ACK!  No!  Moron!  Get your mind back on track.  R-right...  Pulling himself together, he slowly released her face.  "Um...Well, good, It's not your blood..." he covered up quickly, his calm voice only slightly jumpy.

Anonymous

If the apparent ignorance of her exposed breasts as the drow elf pulled Temesca to her feet wasn't indication enough of his handicap, the hands on her face certainly were.  She had seen blind and nearly-blind people before, and they saw with their hands, much as this young man was doing, running his hands over her face, pausing here and there where the blood had spattered.  But then they persisted, and the feel of them--not the physical feel, of course, but the intent, the emotions behind the touch--those changed.  Of course, it was a momentary thing.  He seemed to collect himself soon enough, trying to cover his tracks, pulling his hands away slowly, reluctantly it seemed.  She barely heard a tremor in his voice as he spoke.  No, it wasn't her blood, thank the gods...and him, because she knew she'd be in a sorry state if he hadn't arrived when he did.

He was still close to her from helping her to her feet, so she keeps her voice low.  "L-let's get out of here," she says softly, glancing quickly around at the corpses, feeling her stomach turn slightly.  She pulls the cloak more tightly about her chest, and her voice takes on a plaintitive tone.  "Quickly..."

Anonymous

Well finally.  She wanted to leave as much as he did.  That made things easier.  He nodded and took the time to put his mask back on before turning and leading the way out.  He didn’t bother to hold her hand though. He expected her to follow.  Because holding her hand felt too soft...  He walked slow and calm, as the way he came in, confident that she was safe with him.  Once outside with her, he closed the door so she couldn’t see inside.  He then closed his eyes and placed his palm on the door.  Speaking a chant softly, a small flash of light emanated from the nearby window, and everything went dark again inside the house.  

He finished and took lead again, walking casually down the street with her at his side.  His eyes stared forward as he walked, pretending to see in front of him.  He was quiet and expected her to follow him and be obedient and just as quiet.  But she probably wouldn’t.  So he figured shed begin speaking to him soon.

Anonymous

She followed the drow out, and can't help but be disappointed when he replaces the mask.  Even more disappointing was how little he spoke once they exited the building, though she hardly expected him to make any physical contact (nevermind the fact that his hands had been all over her earlier).

After a few moments, she asks her first question.  "...what's your name?"

Anonymous

He was quiet for a moment after she asked that.  He looked to be mysterious from a distance, but one wouldn’t guess how easily he could warm up.  "Felyn'afay.  Yours?" he replied softly, still looking forward as they walked down the street together.  Yes, he did like to keep to himself, but secretly, he loved to touch.  It was his only way of actually seeing.  Sure he could feel where her presence was, but to touch was like heaven, and when he touched her, it was...indescribable.  He immediately pushed these thought away and focused on being formal.

Anonymous

"Temesca," she replied, continuing along, keeping pace with the young man.  She would have commented on his name, but what could she say?  'Your name is interesting, what is it, elvish?'  Obviously a poor choice, given his obvious race.

A few more silent moments passed.  "....where are you taking me?" she asked gently.

Anonymous

Ah, a second question.  "Home...first." he replied.  "You want to change first.  I doubt you want to look like that when we get where we're going." He told her.  She should recognize this path.  It was the same exact one she took home.  He seemed to know it well.  "Temesca...  That’s a nice name..." he complimented.  He walked well for being blind.  Though his attention was pulled apart because of the girl, and he might not be fully concentrating on where he was going.  Such as not being able to see the empty bucket laying on its side further down his path.  He just continued guiding he, focusing on being formal.