On the Run! [Open]

[Vivian Kreine]

Today was a terrible day for Vivian. He sighed and leaned against the grimy stone wall. Reajh wasn't kind to him today, not at all. Barely a client in sight, and his regulars weren't appearing at their usual haunts. It was slightly more difficult being a homosexual prostitute; he had to meet men quietly in back alleys, conduct business quickly, and be on their way. It was made even worse for Vivian since he danced on the edge of cross dress...while his king ratty coat and tight pants were the norm for men, he wore makeup. He acted decidedly feminine. Frankly, it was a shock no one had arrested him yet.

His stomach growled. Right. He had to get something soon, or he'd be having wind for dinner again. Vivian pushed away from the wall, and began making his way toward one of the guard stations up the street. Normally approaching guards like this would be nigh suicidal, but he gave them discounts and good blowjobs not to end up on the gallows. One or two of them were dyed in the wool homosexual, and rutting Vivian helped them go home and sleep with wives that didn't interest them at all. Besides, it puffed up Vivian's ego to think of a guard frantically fantasizing about their dirty back door encounters while in a clean bed buried in his wife.

However, he had to be careful of the day. A few of the guards were a little stronger in their religious conviction. He approached the station slowly, peeking around the corner to see who he could spot. Relief; the gay one was in today. He straightened up and tousled his hair, walking into view with a grin on his lips. "Well well, a man in uniform. Any time for a damsel in distress?" He asked sweetly.

The guard sighed. "Vivian...please. Not today. You know I can take you in for the makeup."

Vivian cocked an eyebrow. Alright, maybe he wasn't up to teasing. He came to lean in the doorway of the station, making sure his pants were suitably low on his hips and that one rip on the inner thigh was showing just a bit too much to be coincidental. "Stressful day?" He asked, lightly.

"Mordecai were sniffing around earlier." The guard muttered.

"Ah, my favorite. Always suck the fun out of the air." Vivian snorted. "Come on, I'll let you buy me a drink and a stew, and I'll take the stress off."

The guard shifted uncomfortably, but looked up at him. Vivian shot him a winning smile to make him blush. Got him. The guard rose from his seat and coughed, seeming a bit concerned as to the fit of his armor around his waist. "Fifteen copper as usual?" He asked as they departed the station and made for their favorite alley two streets down.

"Thirty for all the way, you ought know my prices by now." Vivian teased, smiling over his shoulder. "I've even got on those underthings you like..."

"I swear the day I let you near my wife's clothesline...I can't believe you still have them." The guard said in surprise.

Vivian turned the corner into their alleyway. "C'mon, you know me better than that. A girl's got to have a good corset-"

The words died in his throat. Standing right in front of him was the other guard he feared had been at the station. Behind him he felt his compatriot practically trip over him, and swore under his breath. Trapped with an idiot with  an erection behind him and a religious idiot in front of him. "Petyr, you and that crossdressing filth are under arrest! I can't believe you! What would Shayla think?" The guard snarled, pulling a pair of manacles out from behind his back. Another set jingled at his waist.

Vivian's mind hissed in panic. Right, so the crossdressing would likely just get him a beating and penance, but the sucking dick would be worse. Add the theft of women's underthings on top of it and he was looking at losing one of his pretty hands. The guard was advancing on them both and Petyr was frozen behind him. Daft son of a bitch!

Vivian elbowed him in the solar plexus, just under the edge of his cuirass. The leather underneath would absorb some of the blow, but Vivian had sharp elbows. Petyr went down with a grunt, holding his middle, and Vivian simply leapfrogged over him and out into the street. By now the first guard was roaring in fury, and Vivian ran down the street as fast as his bare feet could carry him.

"Shit! Shit shit! Shitshitshit!"

He skidded into another alley and burst out of it just as quickly, crashing into a form on the other side and carrying them both to the cobblestone.

[visualspice]

Today was a terrible day for Leif. He needed to travel, and for errands of the duchy no less, and ones summoned upon by the Grand Duke. The pressure was always there for Castavar to join the war efforts,  atleast on a more deeper level, but the young Duke had always an excuse, a reason not to throw away all of his troops for this God's forsaken war that he himself damned- not only because of what had been done to his sister... no, this went far deeper, and his principles would not be compromised because the Grand Duke wanted Leif's whole army, not just the half of it- which even that took the Duke of Castavar sometime to allow. He always sent the minimum, and the men that wanted to. Let them die for their own sins.

It had become awkward when the meeting went nowhere, but aside from adding more pressure, The Grand Duke could do little as Leif Arrant was still obeying the law. He left the Grand palace in a hurry, and made his way out into the city proper.

It had been raining earlier and much of it had dried, but Leif still dawned his heavy cloak. It made him sweat beneath it, for he wore many layers of clothes. Being in the capital meant a certain alter ego of his was tingling, and while he hadn't planned to dawn his masked leather suit... he.. wore it beneath his fancy suit just incase.

But the suit and leather and cloak were unbearable, and he used two deft, gloved fingers to snap open the front of his suit. He wished it exposed skin, but the leather crept up over his neck. Still, it allowed whatever wind was afforded him to slip beneath the cloak and suit and give him a faint sense of relief.

Perhaps he should have been more careful as he traipsed about the city, but after indulging in an ample amount of alcohol, his senses were dulled and his mind was elsewhere, so when the other person slammed into his form suddenly, he found himself down on the cobblestone, the cloak nearly falling off his head as he took a moment to realize what was going on...

And out of pure instinct he had a dagger pointing at the other man.. woman.. man's..? Throat as he snarled through alcohol laced breath.

"What's the meaning of this?"

[Vivian Kreine]

Vivian crashed into something quite solid, and quite armored. He grunted as they both slammed to the ground. The wind was knocked out of him, and he was sucking air by the time the man pulled the dagger on him and set it to his throat. Vivian stared. Between a rock and a hard place. The stranger had the blade at his throat, the guard was behind him, and he was utterly frozen. He had but a few seconds, and he looked down at the stranger beseechingly.

"Help...please...the guards." he panted, looking behind him meaningfully.

Boots thundered out of the alleyway behind him, and three guards skidded to a stop at the scene. "Thank you for apprehending the filth, sir. If you'd please stand, and throw him off you, we can arrest him at once." The guard barked, pointing a finger at Vivian. The prostitute huffed, not wanting to really move with the blade pinning him.

"Please, like half of you haven't hired me." He sneered.

[visualspice]

Leif narrowed his eyes. What exactly had he stumbled into?
His eyes looked more sharply at the guards. He slowly rose, blade still held at Vivian's throat but his focus was on the other men.
"What was his crime?" He asked, almost a demand, the tone commanding, unyielding and cold, like a winter stone.

"Because as far as I have witnessed, you're chasing an unarmed man."