Spirits of the Earth

@Remi

Suna. Been a long time.

The small, run-down tavern in the Kunata's capital city held hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, drunken laughter overpowering the banter and clings and clangs of tapped together glass, and swirled around in a dirty cloud of smoke and wafts of open alcohol.

Amaya was right at home.

The bounty hunter rested his hands on the rough paintwork that coated the front bar, the wood tickling his fingertips as he moved them from atop the surface over to the handle of his mug. A small smile curled into his lips before he took a swig, and he placed it back down on top of the bar before shooting a glance over to his guest of the evening.

He was a tall, brute, ogre-ish man, and if there was anything obvious about him, it was that he was very drunk. Of course, that was because Amaya had been paying his way all night. They talked about everything life: the good and the band, the women, the late night gambles and the even later night fucks.

The man that sat next took him took another gulp of his ale before slamming his glass back to the bar, shattering it beneath his hands.

"Think you may have had enough there, Red," Amaya said slyly, watching him with curious eyes as more alcohol moved past his lips.

"I-I've had enough when I've said I have," the other man said through a slur and a chuckle, barely motioning the bartender to bring him and his new friend another round. "I just need a little more. Just a drop."

"Suit yourself," Amaya mused, adverting his gaze back to his hallow glass.

"Heeeey," Red burped grotesquely. Abruptly, he jabbed his finger into Amaya's chest, two times for good measure. "Areyounotdrunk" he asked, almost stated, as the words tumbled through his mouth almost indistinguishably. "Werr at it all night, whatgives?"

Amaya's grin returned to him and he calmly placed his mug on top of the counter. "Well, you see, Red," he began, shifting over to him. "I never get too drunk until after I catch my bounty."

Red's face grew to his name, and his eyes struggled to shoot open as he processed the bounty hunter's words. "B-Bounty?" he asked, somewhat coming back to reality. "W-Who areya bounty?"

"Gods, you're so drunk," he replied, half-entertained. "Name's Amaya Midgar. You are Rudy Redford, right? You got a bounty on your head, my friend."

Without waiting to hear any more, and mostly out of pure instinct, Red leaped from his chair and sloppily ran for the door, toppling over a few stools and patrons in the process. Amaya's eyes stayed on him as he moved to the door, rising from his own seat to begin pursuit.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered under his breath.

@Elf Lady Love


Gods dammit, what gives?

It was supposed to have been a relatively simple night; one last job before she could fuck off until tomorrow. However, the gods were fickle creatures and she might as well have been on a fucking wild goose chase. No, that would have been too easy: she would have already found the goose and by now, her ass should have been planted on a stool in some little dive tavern, well into her third or fourth round. Her target wasn't a goose though and she'd been from one end of Suna to the other and back again, searching for the individual in question, with little more than a few guesses about the establishments he haunted on the regular, a name and description. Hell, she wasn't even sure if she was supposed to be assisting her target, or someone he was related to- he was supposed to let her know about that. If he was sober enough to tell her, that was.

When she had prepared to just turn on her heel and say that the missive she'd received had contained false information, she had managed to come across one more pub; one that she'd overlooked somehow. A rather run-down, unimpressive establishment, yet one that sounded extremely lively, with the scents of intoxicating alcohol and heavy smoke drifting out the door and windows. She would have enjoyed slumming it in such a place tonight- maybe, if her client wasn't here, she'd do just that. Shrugging, Remi had pivoted and prepared to saunter into the tavern, when she ran face-first into her supposed client.

Well, that wasn't exactly the truth. The massive, ogrish brute of a man reeked of booze and had apparently decided that he was going to go somewhere else as she'd arrived- which had resulted in a collision. "Son of a bitch!" She snarled under her breath as she was knocked on her ass. Grumbling even more colorful profanities, Remi lunged back to her feet again and turned toward the street, gritting her teeth as she took off after the large man's broad back, long legs carrying her in swift strides that quickly became a fast jog as she began tailing him, yelling: "Rudy Redford? I'm... the one you... sent for! Gods dammit, stop!" As she ran, blissfully unaware that anything might have been amiss at the moment.

The only saving grace about her pursuit was that even though her pride (and ass) were a bit sore from the rude, rough shove, there wasn't enough distance between herself and her client that she'd lose him right away; not unless he did some evasive maneuvering through the alleys in a city that she wasn't all that familiar with. She didn't think she'd be able to stop him physically, not unless she ended up drawing one of her daggers and throwing it at his retreating back-- but even if she'd attempted something so stupid, she'd never thrown knives before and would most likely miss.  So, at the moment, the only thing that the pissed-off healer could do was break into a run and try to stay close enough that she might possibly be able to corner the fleeing brute and try to make the drunk understand who she was? "...Shit!" It was snarled between tightly-clenched teeth, as though the word itself tasted foul; trapping and cornering a drunk of such height and girth was a horrible idea. Knowing her luck, he was probably a horrible drunk and if she trapped him somewhere, she might have ended up pummeled, not that she would have objected to a brawl. If luck was on her side, maybe his endurance wouldn't be that great in his clearly inebriated state, or he'd possibly trip over something? "My fee has just... fucking... tripled!" Remi bellowed as she continued careening after Redford; maybe if she'd been blessed with a more pleasant, softer and more feminine voice, she wouldn't have sounded like a malevolent entity?

She doubted that he'd be able to pay triple the price for the services that had been (vaguely) requested of her, but maybe if he'd been able to understand what she'd yelled, he'd understand what she wanted? Regardless, she wasn't going to give up-- this was the first job she'd received in a few days and dammit, she needed the pay.

Amaya saw Red push past the emerging woman, knocking her to the ground, and heading through the alleys. He almost laughed, but before he knew it the woman had hopped to her feet, turned heel, and went after him! What in all hells?

"Holy shit," he breathed in disbelief. "Pretty fast for a dumb drunk and a scrawny little hag."

He peered over his shoulder and met eyes with the establishment's owner who was clearly both perplexed and aggravated, and gave him a quick nod. "I'll be back for my tab!" he called out, though it was buried underneath the uproar of the loose crowd.

'Not sure what that woman is planning doing,' Amaya thought to himself as he began pursuit of his bounty and.. some random woman, apparently. It took a few minutes for his natural speed to set it but before too long his feet were slapping the cobble-stoned alley grounds as he jetted past passerbys of the city and his surroundings became a blur.

Turning a corner, he saw the woman. Well, and the man. Who could miss that large oaf of human being? And how the hell did this skinny little thing keep up with him after being knocked flat?

His boots pounded heavier against the ground by the second to the point to where he felt like his legs were going to explode, but he managed to close in on the both of them. As he moved past the clearly winded woman, he tilted his head, gave her a wink and a cocky wave, and flung himself at Red.

"Gotcha!" he yelled triumphantly as he wrapped his arms around his belligerent man's neck, clinging tightly in attempts to slow him down.

But he didn't slow down, and Amaya was along for the ride.

"Fucking shit, Red!" Amaya cried out, trying to choke him into submission. "STOP!"

"Fucking stop, Rudy-- Red! You and I... have business!" The soul surgeon was quite winded, but she wasn't about to give up; not when she was so close to her client. Unfortunately, she probably looked like either a little assassin or a diminutive old harpy; both of which anyone would have wanted to avoid. Oh, fuck me! The thought nearly flowed from parted lips as she breathed through her mouth, the half-elven bitch cocking her head when the sound of another person approaching caught her attention; anyone would have made out the sound of pounding boots hauling ass over the cobbled alleyways; she managed to catch a quick glimpse of the newcomer while he was still on his feet- enough to tell her that he was quite tall as well, but not nearly as broad as Red was. Before Remi had time to react, the newcomer quickly darted around her; she inclined her chin once, in a wordless greeting that was probably at least somewhat on the coy side, offering a quick smirk and brief gesture that inquired: "The fuck are you doing?" as she watched said newcomer throw himself at Red.

Pale grey eyes narrowing in a calculating manner, despite her fairly breathless state, Remi shifted her stance, one foot sliding behind the other. When the fuck did a healer become a huntress? Well, tonight, apprently. When the newcomer's arms wrapped around the hard-headed drunk's neck, Remi grinned broadly up at him, seeing what she thought was an opportune moment to make her move. Shifting her weight a bit lower, she darted forward, to position herself directly in front of Red, left hand resting on her hip momentarily; "Red... your letter got to me... you requested a--?"

Her still fairly breathless question trailed off abruptly as a ham-sized hand swung downward and outward. Only through the virtue of being smaller, quicker and sober, Remi lunged forward and ducked, narrowly managing to avoid being rendered unconscious; instead, catching the brunt of that blow along her right shoulderblade. Brief, yet intense agony flared along said shoulderblade; forcing a quick gasp to tear itself freee from her throat- she'd likely find a nasty bruise there sometime tomorrow; it wasn't dangerous or anything worth worrying about- but if the near-electric rush of adrenaline and anger hadn't been fueling her, she probably would have been stunned for several moments. I'm... the healer you... sent for!" She panted, shaking her head to clear it.

"Healer?" Red sneered down at her as the other man tried to choke him, "I wanned a whore!" The woman was a nuisance, a distraction; what was more important was removing the pest from around his neck- his windpipe was constricting somewhat painfully and in his shitfaced state, fear was quickly giving way to rage. The trapped beast reached upward with his free hand, attempting to grab Amaya by whatever he could grasp, wanting nothing more than to dislodge and beat the son of a bitch into submission.

"Oh, fuck you, Red!" Rage had finally overtaken the disbelief and confusion that had colored her voice when the pursuit had begun; a peculiar grin twisting the corners of her lips upward into a chilling grin. Twice, she stepped forward, fury painted across her countenance, "This son of a whore's coming down!" Was the quick warning she yelled up at the man who rode Red like a deranged bull. Taking another quick, mincing step forward, she nodded, that grin growing ever-wider as she calculated the distance. Her good arm drew back, hand clenching tightly into a fist and elbow tucked against her side; lunging forward and angling her fist somewhat upward, she quite brazenly delivered a quick, sharp punch to his groin, which she followed up by backpedling a few steps, watching in case her dirty attack hadn't produced the results she had been looking for.

Things were going too quick for poor Red's drunk, panicking mind to keep up with; first, there was the constant, restricting pressure around his throat; then, there was an unexpected agony that brought bright pinpoints of white light dancing across his vision, causing the brute to wince, groan pitifully and begin swaying unsteadily on his feet. Flailing uselessly, he stumbled clumsily around for several moments, shaking his watering eyes and slurring garbled obscenities at his assailants. Twisting to the right in an almost-graceful pivot, the near-breathless drunkard's feet tangled and he almost hit the ground; swaying unsteadily and stumbling around for a few paces. Breathing raggedly, still drunk enough that his vision was blurred and produced doubles of everything that he looked at, panic was quickly setting in as he whined breathlessly: "I dinnit do nuffing!" It would probably only be a matter of moments before he was down for the count.

"Ho! Shit, lady!" was Amaya's immediate reaction to the woman's braved attempt at taking him down via his manhood; and it was almost working, yet somehow the blubbering brute was still tumbling about and swinging his arms around in protest.

'I dinnit do nuffin!' Red cried pathetically after overcoming the jolt of pain any man would feel after such a low blow.

Amaya rolled his eyes and tightened his arms even stricter around the man's throat. "You killed a man, Red," the bounty hunter reminded him, still dangling loosely as if he were trying to break a horse. "I know you were just trying to rob him, but you were too stupid and you killed the poor bastard. So sit still and-"

Thud!

Red collapsed to his knees with a crack of his bones, causing Amaya to topple over and roll into the cobbled road. Shit. The bounty hunter quickly jumped back up to his feet to ensure his target wasn't about to haul his way out of there again, but it appeared the entire ordeal did a number on the poor guy.

Amaya let out an exasperated breath and cracked his knuckles with each hand. "Listen. Red," Amaya said just before throwing a fist into the side of the man's skull, causing the ogre to groan, hiss, and whimper simultaneously as his face met the ground. "I enjoyed the drinks, but it's time to go. I'm taking you in."

The bounty hunter paused, contemplating. How the fuck was he suppose to move this big piece of shit anyway? It was just him and... oh, the woman. He cast a glance over his shoulder at the woman with a look of both speculation and pure fascination. "Nice arm, lady."

Remi shook her head and dragged a hand through her hair, watching in surprise as the ogre flailed and stumbled about, almost dropping to the ground, yet somehow remained mostly upright. Sure, she more than likely would have had much better luck dropping someone of a more normal stature, but she'd at least expected a different reaction; perhaps a cessation of movement or something along those lines. Oh, of course her quarry didn't do anything-- he didn't flee from the person who was supposed to help him, put up a fight and announce that what he'd really wanted was a whore; that just positively reeked of innocence, did it not? Yeah, of course it did.

"Oh, that's nothing!" She quipped almost playfully at the guy who was, for reasons she wasn't sure of, helping take down the big, dumb son of a bitch. Thankfully, she was granted a brief respite during which she could catch her breath. So, Red was a killer; she wouldn't have exactly pinned the jackass as one, but from the sound of things, it had been an accidental murder. Shit! How in the blue hells am I going to get paid now? Pickpocket the stupid fuck? ...I still don't know what I was supposed to do for him!

She winced a bit at the sound of her target dropping to the ground; the loud crack of his knees impacting with the cobblestones sounded extremely painful. He definitely deserved it, but anyone sober would have positively howling in agony; it was strange that the drunkard wasn't. Had she been anyone else, she probably would have strode up when Red went down and kicked him in the face, or something--  but instead, she simply sighed. From the sound of things, her momentary assistant had plans with the poor sod, too; which was only going to complicate matters even more.

It might not have been exactly right that she was trying to figure out how to be compensated for doing nothing but searching the city for this asshole, helping knock the shit out of him and not carrying through with healing-she still didn't know if it was him, or someone he was related to- but dammit, she sure as hell wasn't going to just walk away with nothing for her troubles. "Thanks! That was sort of fun!" She replied with a smirk, throwing a rather curious look the bounty hunter's way as she moved closer to the unconscious Red; she wasn't going to go through with pickpocketing the jackass and it was most likely clear that she wasn't an assassin, but the thought of kicking him around a little was somewhat appealing...

Instead, she settled for tilting her head and peering down at his unconscious form, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Save for his being clearly shitfaced (and unconscious from the beating he'd received), he appeared to be mostly uninjured. She could have been mistaken given how dark the alley was, but he didn't exactly appear to be harboring a nasty disease, either. So, that meant: either he was far more ill than she thought and in need of her aid as a soul surgeon, had a family member in need of assistance, or like he'd said, had been looking for a whore and had been just stupid enough to send a missive to a healer.

"Do you know much about Sir Stupid?" She inquired; she didn't know if the bounty hunter knew more about Red than what he'd said about the drunkard being a killer, but it was worth asking.

Amaya shrugged and shook his head. "Not much, but enough," he replied as he knelt before the man, giving him a quick inspection to ensure his was unconscious. He was. Good. Now all there was left to do was to drag the large sack of human waste to the local authorities and collect his pay. How exactly he was going to do that was the question. He was a little winded, not enough to really slow him down, but his legs were all but give out. He really didn't expect Red to run away like that; and he definitely didn't expect this drunken baboon to be so fast.

"Rudy Redford," he started as his eyes traveled over the bounty. "Goes by the name of Red. Killed a man in a robbery gone wrong. Has a pretty nice bounty on his head because of it, and I'm here to collect."

He grabbed Red's arm and slung it over his shoulder, attempting to stand despite the weight that felt almost magnetized to the ground. Holy fuck. This lummox was heavier than life itself, and a small groan escaped Amaya's lips as he attempted to drag him away.

"Thanks for the help, but I'll take it from here," he said dismissively. "Go on. Shoo."

Remi groaned in irritation at the bounty hunter's reply. She didn't know why she'd expected him to know much of anything, but she'd hoped he would have known more than she would have, at least. "Ah, I know his name, but I wasn't aware that he was fucking stupid enough to have a bounty on his head," She shrugged, eyes narrowed in irritation. Tonight had started out rather shitty and was quickly becoming one of the worst nights that she'd had in a long time- it fucking figured.

A vague smirk twisted her countenance as she watched the bounty hunter try to stand beneath Red's considerably weight; almost laughing at his groan. Served him right for trying to just walk off with her client. Maybe if she just let him try to go collect the bounty and tailed him, she might eventually find him collapsed under the oaf somewhere. Too bad she wasn't in good enough humor to do anything of the sort, though.

"Are you really that fucking stupid?" That query dripped with derision. She wasn't about to let this guy drag her client anywhere; especially not to collect a sizeable bounty, while she remained unpaid. "There's no gods-damned way I'm leaving; this sorry sack of shit's supposed to be my client- stupid bastard demanded a healer's services; I have no damned idea why, but I'm not going anywhere until I'm paid!"

Taking a few steps closer to the bounty hunter, she reached into one of her belt-pouches and withdrew the crumpled letter she'd received, offering it to him. If nothing else, if he was able to read, it would prove that her claim was not unsubstantiated; the note was just vague and poorly-written. She wasn't trying to claim the bounty for her own; she just wanted what should have been hers- and hopefully to spend the remainder of the night having fun.

There was always the possibility that the man might take exception to her claim- and the letter that backed it up; even if she wasn't exactly looking forward to having to defend that claim, she was prepared to do so. Of course, she would have been willing to accept a few rounds at some slummy tavern (she tended to avoid higher-class establishments) and maybe a few hands of cards in lieu of monetary compensation, but she wasn't going to come out and say anything of the sort. Especially since now, she had no fucking idea who she'd be collecting from in the first place. "If tonight doesn't get any fucking worse, I'll kiss lady luck's ass without complaint!" She snarled under her breath.

The bounty hunter's eyes lit up in amusement. Stupid? No, not really. But it was always fun to play along and get under someone's skin. He extended his free hand to accept the crumpled up piece of paper, eyes scanning over it briefly.

"Sorry, lady. I don't know how to read," he lied. "And he wanted a whore, not a healer. Seems he called the wrong broad."

Finally finding his strength, and the right grip on the unconscious lummox, he paced away from her, tugging Red as he went, at an increasingly slow rate. Gods dammit, he thought as he unwillingly did his best impression of a turtle. I'm never going to get anywhere at this rate.

He sighed, and dropped the man from his shoulder. "Fine," he said over the sound of Red's limp body slamming into the cobbled road. "Help me carry this guy and I'll give you a cut. How's that sound?"

The soul surgeon's dour expression only managed to turn more sour at the bounty hunter's amusement. Under other circumstances, she probably would have thought he was at least entertaining, but so far, tonight just didn't seem to be that kind of night, unfortunately. She let his comment about not knowing how to read slip; it really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things- and the jackass they'd taken down had let it be known what he'd wanted, anyway. "He made a mistake, but I don't care- not my fault, or problem," She shrugged. Even if it might have looked like she was trying to engage in some form of extortion at the price of someone else's screw-up, she didn't give a damn.

Watching the bounty hunter attempt to carry Red away at a pathetically slow pace, she finally gave in and laughed; though the bounty hunter didn't look like a weakling, Red had to weigh roughly as much as a small mountain, if not more. Moving him alone was a noteworthy attempt, but unless one had a team of oxen to pull the lout down the road, she didn't know if anyone could have dragged his ass off anywhere, at least not alone.

"Sounds like a fair deal to me," She nodded, closing whatever distance remained between herself and Red's limp form; "Guess I might as well buy us a round of the strongest shit possible, or something like that, for our troubles too, if you're up for it after we're done with him." It wasn't that she was particularly sympathetic; just that she had the feeling they'd both probably be sore from hauling around such an enormous dead weight and badly in need of something to drink, whever they got to where they were going.

Cracking her knuckles, she crouched and got into position to seize one of Red's arms. If they had been of a similar height, it might have made sense for one of them to grab his arms and the other his ankles so they could carry him down the road, but she didn't think that would have been an easy task, what with their height differences. She didn't know if dragging him along would be much easier in the long run, but it was worth a shot. "Ready whenever you are." It was a damn shame that their prey wasn't quite rotund or stiff enough to just roll down the road, but she assumed they'd manage just fine, unless he woke up at a bad time.

Well. She sure was gullible.

Amaya flashed her a quick grin as he came to his aid, and together they heaved the man up, one arm slung around a shoulder and neck each. "You buy the first round and I'll buy the second," he said through a concentrated breath. "I still have my tab back there at the little tavern where you got your ass flattened, so we'll head back there when we're done."

Pretty nice bounty on Red's head, Amaya repeated to himself inside his head.For one. There was no way in hell he would actually give her a cut of his reward, but he'd at least share a drink with the woman before he split back to Jin'ta.

"How ya holding up over there?"

She had her doubts that he'd willingly cough up a split of the profits, all things considered- but that was simply because she didn't trust the living to keep their word on anything; few people she'd ever encountered were willing to give up their wealth, even if it was owed to her. While she would end up doing her damndest to make sure she got something of the profits in the end, it didn't mean she was above putting on the act of being a naive, gullible lady.

After all, most people expected women to be trusting and naive to an extent, or so she'd been lead to believe- even if one was something of a bitch. Maybe, just maybe, if she played her cards right, she'd be the one leaving him broke and indebted at the end of the night. She couldn't say for sure if everything would play out the way she wanted to, but she'd at least try to see what she might be able to pull off; though there was always the distinct possibility that her ideas just might not work.

"That sounds like a plan to me," Remi stated through clenched teeth as they hoisted the mountain of a man together; shifting her own weight to keep Red balanced well enough. Even with the hunter's assistance, she'd never have thought anyone could have weighed as much as the drunkard, but there was a first time for everything.

She grumbled as they moved along, swearing to herself that at least once, she'd felt their burden start to shift on his own accord; though that could have simply been the precariousness of the situation almost off-balancing the drunk. Though her breathing was a bit labored from the efforts, she wasn't about to admit that the task at hand was more difficult than it had looked; instead, she tilted her head at the bounty hunter and flashed a quick grin: "Not bad at all; I think we'll manage. What about you?"

"Never fucking better," he lied through his teeth as the two moved forward. "Hardly even breaking a sweat."

Now this was a peculiar situation he had gotten himself in. Towing some large oaf of a bounty down the street with some scrawny, little slouch of a woman that just appeared basically out of thin air. She was certainly interesting, and for the most part interesting to look at, though she could be pretty if she put even the slightest bit of effort into it, Amaya thought. Not that he was one to judge.

"So what's your story?" he asked as the two pressed forward to the local law. "Who are you suppose to be, anyway? Clearly not from around here."

"Ahh, I'm damned glad to hear it!" She damn near chirped, blinking sweat out of her eyes as they continued ever onward, to a destination that almost seemed impossible to reach... and yet, she just had to try and fuck with him, at least a little. "Since you're doing so fucking wonderful, I think I'll just hop right onto your back. I've always wanted a talking ox- and you just might be suited to that!" She was being far from serious at that moment, doing what she could to mask the strain in her voice as a playful snort.

She had to admit that this was one of the weirdest situations she'd ever been thrown into- and in her line of work, she'd seen and dealt with some rather strange things before. But not even when she'd indulged in mind-altering herbs had she ever imagined she'd be dragging some beast of a stupid drunkard down an almost-deserted street in the middle of the night, alongside a rather good-looking bounty hunter who had seemingly materialized to chase her and said brainless lunk through a few alleyways and help beat the shit out of him. Hell, she'd never have thought she'd be hauling a beast of a human down any street in any circumstances, to begin with.

"There's really not shit to tell," Remi stated off-handedly, "If you're looking for a sad sack of shit story, I can't oblige that: I'm no one special, never had any stupid-ass tragedy happen, either. Anything in particular you'd like to know?" It was a vague, but not dishonest semi-answer: she wasn't drunk enough to completely spill her guts to someone she didn't know at all, but at least it was something of a start. "Name's Remi Tvastri; I'm an herbalist and back at the academy of healing arts a long time ago, they said I was a soul surgeon. You're right though, I'm not from here-- not really from anywhere in particuar. Anyone that needs me knows how to track my ass down; anyone who doesn't, won't." It was fairly vague and she knew it; but it was a better start than nothing-- or at least she thought so.

"And you?' She was curious; the bounty hunter seemed to be fairly interesting and she could imagine that his story was probably a thousand times more interesting than hers was (at least she didn't think her past was the least bit interesting; unless she divulged some of the stranger things she'd witnessed while trying to ply her trade.)

Fucks sake, Amaya needed a drink.

Playing friendly with this woman was really starting to wear on his nerves, and clearly hers as well, unless she was just that type of lunatic. "If you do that, I'll pile drive your head into the ground," he muttered under his breath shortly after her ox comment.

Jeez, woman. He only asked a simple question, and now she wouldn't shut up about it! So no sad sack story? No stupid-ass tragedy? Who cares? Life's full of people like that. He couldn't tell if he was annoyed or just downright intrigued by the woman's demeanor. He bit his tongue on what he wanted to say, and waited for a moment to allow himself to lighten up.

"Nothing in particular, no," he finally replied, his agitation buried through the grunts and groans of Red's mass. "Amaya Midgar, I'm not from around here either."

He paused for another moment when a sneaky little smile crept into his lips. "I guess Red tracked your ass down for that reason specifically... ass," he added teasingly. "Not your type?"

No one who claimed to know Remi would have ever called her the life of any party when things didn't go her way-- and when the healer didn't get her way, one of a few things usually happened: either she'd go out of her way to irritate the ever-loving fuck out of whoever she was near at the moment, she'd punch someone, or possibly just walk away.

Given the current situation, punching anyone was completely out of the question and she couldn't exactly tell at the moment if she was fascinated by the bounty hunter or just wanting to see how far she could push him before he fucking exploded, so she wasn't going to walk away. So, that left her with being as irritating as fucking possible, until she just couldn't keep up with that any longer. Either way, she snorted; which certainly wasn't an apology by any stretch of the imagination, but if he wasn't a dullard, he should have been able to interpret the sound as: "I'm just fucking with you."

"You always use such strange fucking situations to meet people?" Her tone was blatantly playful and flippant; though it wasn't a serious question at all, she was curious to see what his answer might have been. Perhaps if she hadn't been muttering profanities and making decidedly unladylike noises under Red's girth, it would have been even more readily apparent that she was only screwing around.

Amaya's sudden, playfully audacious question caught her off-guard enough that instead of responding immediately, she laughed; a deep, throaty sound. "So, he did- and not a chance in hell," She trailed off for a moment, "But if we could find someone selling a dress big enough to suit him, he might be yours, right?" It was absolutely impossible to keep the blatantly mischievous note from creeping into her voice; even though it had been her intention to try to keep the question as deadpan as possible.

"Not my type," he replied dismissively, though he appreciated the humor. Maybe she wasn't so bad, she just clearly wanted to get under his skin for one reason or another. Oh well. She was harmless enough, he thought, and if he had too he could play that game right back to her; but at the moment he was more worried about turning Red in before he decided he wanted to wake up from his little nap.

"And when do I not meet people in a strange fucking situation? Seems like that's the only time I do meet someone who's not on the receiving end of my fist. Anyway-"

He cut off, deciding to fuck with the woman a little as she did to him. "Back to what my type is. When we're done with this sack of balls, let's skip the bar and head down to the docks. It's beautiful down there, and we can hold hands, stare into each others eyes, and talk about how ugly our kids will be."

"Oh, what a pity," His dismissive tone was met with a feigned disappointed croon, "I'm sure the two of you'd make an adorable pair! ...Of course, if you want to wear the dress instead, that can be arranged," Damn, but it was hard not to choke on barely held-back laughter; apparently, he really wasn't such an ass; maybe he'd just been trying to piss her off as much as she'd been doing the same? Who the fuck knew though- and it really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Unfortunately, it was very difficult to keep the bitchy-but-naive act up for very long; growing more difficult by the moment as they continued onward.

There were far more important things to focus on at the moment anyhow: namely, not tripping or otherwise buckling beneath Red's weight and trying to get to where they were going before he decided to return to the world of the living. It would have been just fucking perfect if he decided to wake up with the mother of all hangovers and decided to go for round two, now wouldn't it?

"Hell if I know," She stated, "At least it makes things interesting, right?" So, Amaya sounded like the sort that would greet others with a flying fist to the face under other circumstances? Made him seem even more interesting-- and probably fun to spend some time with; she'd have to remember to try and get on his good side, if for no other reason than to contact him when she was in the mood to raise some hell, blow off some steam.

But there was a far more interesting subject that he seemed to be quite willing to "discuss" and she just happened to be all ears; attempting to make it seem as though she was giving serious consideration to his "offer" before she finally spoke up again, eyes gleaming with mirth, "You know, my dear," Through nothing short of a miracle (and biting her bottom lip until it bled a bit to keep from giving herself away too horribly,) she managed to sound at least somewhat serious, "I think that's a perfectly reasonable idea! There's nothing better than slipping down to a beautiful location, staring deep into each others' eyes until we both wonder what the fuck's wrong with the other, getting  all kinds of poetic and discussing the fate of our future  disgusting children!"

Drawing a deep breath and fighting desperately to swallow peals of laughter, hoping that the "girlish giggle" she forced to come forth wasn't too strange-sounding, she paused. Long enough to tilt her head and bat her eyelashes at him (just like rumors claimed noblewomen did to "charm" their intended paramours) before speaking again: "At this hour, I wouldn't be surprised if we have the docks all to ourselves-- and we'll definitely be able to teach each other a thing or two!" Her free hand rose to stroke the whip that encircled her waist, hoping the gesture was sufficiently suggestive. If they were going to fuck with each others' heads for a while, she'd be damned if she was going to back down so quickly-- and part of her was looking forward to see just how forward (or strange) his answer was going to be.

Gods, she saw right through me.

Amaya chose not to respond right away, instead focusing on Red and getting him to where he needed to be. It felt like they had been towing him along for almost a lifetime now, and they were still no closer to the jailer. 'It was be so much easier to just drop his ass right here and send for somebody to come pick him up,' he thought to himself through gritted teeth.

But they continued a few more steps and he finally threw her a sarcastic reply. "I don't think I can handle whatever you are teaching, lady," he sneered. "Besides-"

He cut off again as the pending weight on his shoulders grew deeper, stiffness pushing into his chest and against his back. 'Fuck! This is hopeless!' he cried inside his head. He was very well over this whole ordeal, and it ended now.

"Fuck this," he muttered as he removed himself from Red's bear arm, forcing his weight soley on Remi.

Though their banter had served to help for a while, concentrating on both keeping said jabs going, while trying to keep from just giving up and collapsing under Red's weight. More than once, she'd stumbled under the drunkard's dead weight. It would have been so much fucking easier if they'd had some sort of wagon, or if one of them had at least owned (and brought) a mule and some rope along. Though she wasn't a thief, she was attempting to split her attention a third way: trying to see if there was some kind of cart that they could have borrowed for a short time. It just figured that she hadn't been paying overly close attention to their surroundings previously; not close enough to know if there was such a conveyance anywhere behind them-- and as far as she could tell, there didn't appear to be one up ahead.

"Oh, come on," Though her voice was quite strained and caught in her throat on a ragged breath at least once, it was still playful: "You don't have to deny it, you're quaking in anticipation!" Shit, but a drink was sounding good right now; thene again, so  was the thought of just laying down in the middle of the street and not giving a fuck about what happened until she managed to catch her breath again and work off some of the soreness and stiffness that was setting in. Of course, she wasn't going to do that, but it didn't mean it didn't sound like one hell of an idea regardless.

Remi hadn't anticipated Amaya's suddenly giving up and freeing himself from the weight of Red's burden; "What the fuck's--" Came the indignant bark of a reply as her knees started to buckle; only for that weight to suddenly be removed from her protesting back and shoulders; a bellow of abject rage (and the agony inflicted by a downright killer hangover setting in) cutting her words short.

Oh, of fucking course Red would just have  to wake up at that moment; disoriented, but absolutely infuriated. Given her state of exhaustion and being completely caught off-guard, Remi was too slow to entirely escape a massive fist swinging her way; though by pivoting to the right, she managed to catch a mere glancing blow to her jaw; strong enough to snap her head to the side, cause her teeth to slam together painfully -causing her to chomp down painfully on her tongue in the process- and for her vision to swim; but she didn't think her jaw was broken or even cracked, just yet. It just hurt like a bitch and probably would for a couple of hours.

"Don't just stand there!" She yelled somewhat breathlessly, not taking her eyes off of the bullish Red as she began circling him, trying to remain just far enough away from Red to try and dodge his blows while she looked for an opening. It wasn't half as simple as it looked: while it might have appeared that she was simply dancing around the oaf, she'd timed her movements wrong on at least two separate occasions, earning three more agonizing, though not (yet) concerning blows: an extremely annoying and stinging backhand to the ass, a cuff upside the back of the head and a kick to the back of her knee that had sent her stumbling a few steps even further back.

"Help!" Red's still slurred voice cried out: even though he was incredibly stupid and his head felt as though a rampaging army of orcs was raging through it and he was fairly certain that at any moment now, he was going to spew all over his would-be captors, he fancied himself crafty. It would only take a few moments for him to formulate a lie; some reason to need assistance; kidnapping was among the first of the lies he planned on shrieking.

"Oh for FUCK'S sake!"

Amaya lunged at the now conscious Red only to be knocked back by a belligerent, swinging arm, sending him back to the cobbled ground and temporarily knocking the wind out of it.

"Bitch!" he seethed through his teeth.

Red, somewhat regaining his senses, stared daggers into the bounty hunter's eyes before bellowing out a cry.

"I'm going to kill you," he snarled. He attacked with a big right overhand punch. Amaya stepped out of range, but before he could bring his hands up to defend, Red drove his shoulder into the bounty hunter's chest, slamming him into a nearby alley wall, where he started landing solid punches into the man's gut.

Fuck! This bastard can throw a fucking punch!

Satisfied, Red removed his hold from Amaya, and the bounty hunter slid down to his ass, wincing from the beating from the equivalent to a wild boar.

"Help! Someone, please!" Red screamed again frantically, his face burning. "These two are trying to kill me!"

And then, people started to gather.

Wonderful.

"Son of a donkey-fucking whore!" Remi snarled as Amaya jumped into the fray; they had to take this lunk down, before he left them as bloodstained smears on the cobblestones. Though Amaya's beating was something that she could most certainly sympathize with, she didn't have the time to worry about whether or not she'd have to heal them both-- taking the opening that was left in the wake of Amaya's charge was more important at the moment.

Drawing a deep breath, she let loose with her own battle-cry; a viciously-snarled "Fuck everything!"  Exhausted and banged-up as she was, she rushed headlong at the dullard; at the last moment, using her momentum and agility to throw herself into a hand-spring. (Had Red not been crouched fairly low to the ground, whining and shrieking while attempting to catch his breath, her tactic would not have had a chance in hell of working.) Given how close her proximity to him was, she was able to bring her booted feet down with as much force as she could muster, against the bridge of his nose.

The loud crack and subsequent, very satisfying snapping of cartilege filled her ears as Red's nose broke; blood flowing freely down his face. Unfortunately, she didn't have the time to savor that very small victory; nor the subsequent one that came when she righted herself directly in Red's lap; which gave her the opportunity to draw back her arm and deliver a vicious (for her size) elbow in close quarters, directly to his throat.

For it didn't stop the lout from using Remi's precarious perch to his own advantage: cocking his own fist back and driving it into her collarbone, causing Remi to grit her teeth tightly to keep from yelping in agony; she had no idea if he'd managed to break or fracture anything, but she swore she felt something tear; followed by a wave of searing pain that momentarily left the woman stunned..

Which was all the incentive Red needed to lift a hand and bat the woman aside, as though she was little more than a fly. Sending her careening gracelessly across the cobblestones, her ankles tangling and almost sending her to her kneees. Her sides heaving, breathing coming in ragged pants; trembling from a combination of adrenaline, agony and worry as people began to close in around them, she clenched her teeth hard enough to make them ache as she made her way over to where Amaya was and thrust a hand at him.

"Get your ass up!" It wasn't a request, but a demand- and was ground out far more harshly than she intended, but she couldn't help that just yet, "We're getting the fuck out of here before the guards come!" Between Red's howling and the indignant murmurs of the ever-growing crowd, it sounded like they'd just been pinned as accomplices for attempted murder- and as far as she was concerned, they needed to get out of here as quickly as they could.

"I didn't do nothing wrong!" Red continued to bawl pitifully, "I was bein' friendly-like to them, but they're going to kill me! I got a wife and babies, too!" Feigned alligator tears began dripping down the man's bloodied face as he attempted to garner sympathy and pity from the crowd, playing up the harmless and innocent act as much as much as he possibly could. If he could get the crowd to believe he was just a dumb, gentle giant, he was sure that he could make the pair's life a living hell.

Amaya watched in horror as what was suppose to be an easy bounty job slowly but steadily became more fucked. He had every intention of marching back over to the brute of a man, giving him another swift kick in the balls, or two, or until he no longer had the option to father children, and then dragging his ass in for his reward.

Yet the buzzing of the crowd was too strong, his "accomplice" had just gotten her ass handed to her again, and Red was playing up the victim in full display. It was too much. Amaya couldn't think.

"Gods dammit," he seethed, taking the woman's hand and getting back to his feet through an ache and groan. "I'm coming back for that piece of shit!"

He yanked her hand as they rushed and broke through the crowd, attempting to make a temporary escape.

At that point, it was abundantly clear to Remi that on top of everything else that had happened so far tonight, she had clearly and willfully completely fucked the oath she'd taken as a healer: to never unnecessarily inflict harm on another living creature. And she just couldn't find it within herself to give a fuck about anything like that. Sure, it meant she would no longer be able to openly advertise her services, but conversely, she'd have free reign to use her knives whenever she wanted to. While her small stature left her extremely disadvantaged in a fist-fight, at least she knew how to use those daggers she carried. It wasn't a split-second decision, either: she'd been contemplating severing that oath for a few months and Red was just the catalyst that had helped her reach her conclusion.

Rage colored her countenance as Red's whining and pleading became more theatrical; her hand drifting to stroke one of her daggers' hilts and almost closing around it. It would only take a few moments to make her way through the crowd, shmooze her way back into Red's lap again- and remove his tongue. If the crowd didn't seem to be growing larger by the minute, she would have done just that- and with more people clamoring, shrieking for a cleric and the guards, the longer they remained where they were, the more precarious the whole situation became.

"And you think I'm not?" She scoffed; all notions of teasing and trying to act the "naive, gullible woman" dropped in an instant, "I don't give a shit about getting paid- I want to make that goat fucker suffer!" I just need enough time to patch us up, wait for these stupid fucks to leave and coat my knives. An hour, maybe two.

"After them!" A particularly loud, deep voice boomed from the milling throng of people as they broke through the crowd; she didn't have a destination in mind, nor did she give a damn where they were heading; all that mattered was making it somewhere that might be marginally safer than the streets, for now. "How you holding up?" She inquired, voice pitched low in an attempt to not be overheard by anyone they might have been darting past; hoping that they were somehow managing to keep far enough ahead of whoever the fuck that had been to call for their pursuit- though expecting the shitstorm they were embroiled in to swallow them whole. Gods damn, what a night.

"Never fucking better," he repeated himself from earlier, not even trying to hide in sarcasm this time. "How the fuck do you think I'm holding up?!"

They made their way through the cobbled-stone alleys, turning corner and corner until they reached a dead end. "Fuck!"

Amaya's eyes scanned the area around them, his mind racing with solutions. They had gotten away far enough to buy them a little time, but not much. Heading back out into the open would only expose them, and staying there would only trap them from their pursuers.

And then he spotted it. An open window, leading it to gods knows what, but it would have to do. "Come on," he huffed. "I'm going to hoist you up."

"Just making sure you're not going to pass out on me, or some other stupid shit like that," She stated with a careless shrug, followed by a wince. While she didn't expect to hear anything of the sort, he had taken one fuck of a beating. Seemed like if he was going to conk the fuck out while they careened through the streets, she wasn't even sure if he'd be the type to even announce "stop" or anything like that. Regardless, she wouldn't have ended up stopping; would have focused on saving her own ass.

However, she needn't have worried about anything of the sort; for instead, it seemed like the gods were having one hell of a good time making their lives more difficult than they needed to be. "Dammit!" Thankfully, the enraged crowd didn't appear to be on their heels just yet, but it was probably only a matter of time now. While she wouldn't have minded remaining where they were if it was just Red and they were luring him into an ambush, she wasn't overly fond of being cornered by a mob that they'd have no chance of facing down.

Peering about, looking for a quick fix for their issues, it was Amaya that had found what was probably their only out, for now. It didn't take any other urging; she closed the narrow gap between them in a few quick strides. "Alright, I'm ready whenever you are."

There was no time to wonder what they'd be getting into by climbing through that window, but that was of no concern right now. The first order of business was effectively vanishing; everything else could be dealt with afterward.

"Alright, off you go."

He didn't waste any time as he grabbed the one from under her legs, carelessly tossing her at the window in hopes that she would grab on. He could only hope that they weren't busting in on some family sitting around a kitchen table, or two lovers tearing away at each other, or anything and everything else that came to his mind.

He followed the woman promptly, jumping up and slamming his hand on the window seal to ensure he didn't fall back to the ground. Somehow, he managed to lift himself up and into the little building, rolling into Remi as he did, and impossibly tangling his legs and arms with her.

"Shit," he grumbled as he tried to remove himself from her. "Get off of me, would ya?"

She didn't protest as she was grabbed and tossed upward, toward the window; grasping hold of the sill and and propelling herself inside. Despite not being able to decide what hurt the worst, it was still a fairly easy endeavor. Only once she was inside did it cross her mind to consider just what they might be getting themselves into.

Narrowing her eyes and tilting her head, she had been trying to listen for anything that might have been indicitive of yet another problem they'd either have to barrel through or hightail away from, she'd thought she'd moved far enough from the window, but a couple of feet apparently wasn't enough; for as she was trying to get her eyes to adjust to what appeared to be the dimly-lit interior of some kind of shop (she assumed, based only on a perfunctury glance at how neatly-arranged the room they ended up in was,) Amaya ended up not only rolling into her, but somehow snaring their limbs in a spectacular manner.

"Dammit," The word came out somewhere between a disbelieving groan and a half-laugh as she attempted to disentangle herself from him; which involved some contortioning, murmurred profanities and a bit of squirming. When she'd thought she'd proably be able to get up though, she found that she couldn't do a hell of a lot more than redistribute her weight a bit more comfortably, "You need to let go of me so I can."

How easy it would have been to tease him about the rather interesting position they'd landed in and a bit of humor flitted momentarily across her face; maybe she would have given in and spouted off with some smart-ass comment or another, if she'd been certain that the building was indeed empty. It was a tempting thought, nevertheless.

"Oh gods' sake-- Here! Hold still," he grumbled as he finished untangling himself from the woman.

He was back on his feet in no time, casting a cautious glance out of the window to see the mob of pursuers moving in every direction.

"Looks like we lost them," he said quietly before turning back around. "Now, where the hell are we? It looks like some sort of shop, but I think they're closed."

He tiptoed a little further into the opening where the neatly-arranged furniture and displays were most prominent. Definitely a shop, he concluded, as his eyes landed on a table adorned in scarfs.

"Need some new clothes?"

As soon as they were able to separate, she quickly got back to her feet, nodding as he peered out the window, muttering an extremely rare "sorry about that" before speaking up; "Good... hopefully we can catch a gods-damn break for a little while. Hell knows it'd help," she replied just as softly; save for their voices and rather quiet footsteps, everything seemed to be in the clear-- at least for the time being. "I'll be damned if I know," She admitted as she began creeping about the room they currently occupied, nodding in agreement at his statement about them being in a shop. Judging by the furniture and dim lighting, it was definitely closed for the night.

"Why not?" It was a rhetorical question: not only would it be nice not to go around in dirty, recently-torn clothing, it could help with the whole "laying low," thing. After all, any guards that might have been prowling about might have been given a vague description of what they'd been wearing. Curiosity getting the better of her, she ventured deeper into the building, stopping every now and again to examine some of the displays. If she had to guess, they'd found a rather large general store: along with furniture, scarves and other clothing, her circuit around the room revealed a table full of toys, the odd small basket of dried herbs, shelves lined with linens, crockery and other household goods.

However, a bit further back, something peaked her curiosity even further: a door and two corridors leading from what she assumed was the main shopfront. Lifting a finger in the gesture of "hold on a second," prowling quietly on the balls of her feet, she crept toward the closer of the two doors. If it didn't lead to either a storage area or changing room, she wasn't entirely certain what to expect. Drawing Pain and keeping that dagger close to her side, she used the toe of one foot to push at the door; which swung open slowly, with a soft creak.

Waiting for a few seconds, she pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside. What she came across wasn't the shopkeeper's residence, but as far as she was concerned, even better: it was a work-room, complete with toy-making equipment. But what caught her eye was the table, strewn with a deck of cards and five or so bottles of booze. Definitely a room worth revisiting.

Making her way back toward where she'd last seen Amaya, she called out quietly: "The work-room's damn sure worth looking into, later." With that, she made her way back over to the display of women's' clothing. It took a little searching, but after looking through countless dresses, skirts and bright, ornately-designed shirts, she finally located something that she thought would be comfortable and accommodate ease of movement: a fairly simple sleeveless, rust-red shirt and black pants that were gauzier than what she was used to, but seemed comfortable enough. Not knowing if the shop had a washroom or not, she shrugged, unfastened her waterskin from her whip-belt and with little care or modesty, stripped down and changed; wetting her old shirt so she could scrub most of the dirt and grime from her skin without getting the floor wet, grumbling and cursing under her breath whenever she located one of her injuries; finally dragging an exquisitely-crafted comb through her hair.

All in all though, it didn't take more than maybe fifteen minutes to make herself presentable; her old clothes tucked into a rucksack she'd located on one of the many displays, cautiously continuing her exploration of the shop once again; satisfied that there were no traps she'd end up triggering, no guard-dog sleeping somewhere, just waiting for a hapless intruder.

Amaya was too busy with his own investigation to notice anything the woman was doing, or saying, initially. He poked around for several moments but nothing really impressed him. Of course, he was definitely not a thief either, so the thought that crossed his mind was dismissed rather quickly.

His train of thought was interrupted by her mentioning the work room. The work room? Well, who gives two fucks about the work room? He sighed and shook his head - how did he end up with this woman, and what were they going to do next? He was still pissed at the thought of losing Red, but he would have to remain calm and go after him once things cooled off.

"Man, where's the alcohol in this place?" he finally asked, his tone dry and his eyes bored.

It was relieving to be left alone with her own thoughts; she didn't really give a shit what the bounty hunter was doing at the moment, as long as another shit-storm didn't end up erupting around them. Though she didn't typically resort to thievery, well, she was beyond giving a fuck about much of anything right now. While trying to formulate a plan would probably have been a great idea, but at the moment, nothing worthwhile was coming to mind. Then, there was Red. She honestly didn't give a fuck about the bounty on his head, but she damn sure wanted to carve him up a little; he deserved it for the shit he'd caused. Exploring the shop had served as a welcome, if too-brief diversion.

"I found cards and liquor; looks like it might be okay shit." That statement was deadpanned. She was only going off the appearance of the rather large bottles; they'd been dusty enough to look relatively well-aged at least and it had damn sure not been just wine. Maybe if lady luck was on her side, there'd be more stashed in that workroom.

With a shrug, she pivoted on her heel and set off again, back in the direction of said workroom; if the bounty hunter wanted a drink, he should have been capable of finding his way there; the shop wasn't exceptionally huge, after all. Making her way through the displays and back to the workroom again didn't take all that long, now that she'd figured out the general layout of the building.

Once she entered that room again, she rifled through the small collection of bottles, settling on a decently large one made of dark brown glass, marked as imported rum. Cracking it open and taking several long swallows, a pleased groan escaped her throat- it was good shit; strong enough to have a pleasant kick and decent burn.  Flopping down in one of the chairs, she let her mind wander aimlessly while she resumed drinking; snorting at the sheer absurdity of the entire situation.

She had him at liquor.

After watching her make her way into the working room, he followed. When he entered the room, he found the woman slouched over into a chair with a brown bottle in her hand and an all-too-content look on her face. "Find the good shit, then?" he asked slyly as he paced over to her like she was his new best friend. "Let's have a look."

He snatched the bottle out of the woman's hand and took a few rather large gulps. Removing the opening from his lips, he blinked slowly and shook his head once in either approval or surprise or something of that sort. "Yeah," he said quietly before taking another swig. "This will do."

Kicking her feet onto the table, carefully enough to avoid upsetting either the cards or the remaining bottles, it took the woman a few seconds to acknowledge that he'd followed her; mainly because she was savoring her newest acquisition. "Hell yeah, I did!" She replied with an easy smirk as he walked over; gesturing with her free hand at the rest of the selections on the table, "Might even be enough here to last, mmmm, a little while; help yourself."

She had not expected the man to commandeer her rum, though! "Hey, that's not fair!" The entirely feigned indignity of that mock protest was coupled with a shit-eating grin as she lowered her feet back to the floor again, gesturing at the rest of her find, "Relax, make yourself at home; we also got what sounds like some pretty fucking great whiskey, something sort of greenish and something else I've never seen before." The liquor she'd never seen before was in a tall, thin, unlabeled clear glass bottle; the fluid inside a pale, somewhat iridescent blue.

However, rather than reaching for that intriguing bottle, or the whiskey that was basically calling her name, just to be an ass, she reached up to snag the rum again, just long enough to smirk up at Amaya and take another long, greedy swallow before she handed it back, grabbing the whiskey instead and cracking it open; taking a quick gulp: if the rum was good, holy fuck, the whiskey was outstanding: bitter, potent and burning a fiery trail down her throat. "Gods damn, I need to find this bastard's supplier!" Tilting her head back, eyes half-closing in satisfaction, she guzzled that whiskey as though it were water, until she needed to breathe; maybe tonight wasn't complete shit, after all- just mostly.

Alternating between idly shuffling the cards and knocking back more of that quickly-coveted whiskey, she was beginning to relax, at least a little bit. "You much of a gambler?" She inquired. Though she didn't have much left in the way of coin at the moment, she was usually of the mind that drinking and gambling went perfectly together; the higher the stakes, the better.

"Gamble all the time," he replied with a roll of the tongue as he sat into one of the empty chairs. He eyed the other available alcohols, but ultimately just kept swigging the rum. It tasted good, so why take that away just yet?

"So, who the fuck are you again?" he asked almost nonchalantly as he slipped more rum into his mouth. "Remi, right? Stupid name. You're a contract healer or some shit like that?"

He took another swig. "Stupid job, too."

"Good," She nodded; anything else she might have said cut off by more whiskey; not that it really mattered if she was going to leave at that or start dealing cards. In the end, she did neither; shaking her head and sighing at his question and quick follow-up. "Yeah. Remi's good enough; easy enough for most stupid fucks," It was delivered with an uncaring air and a shrug; "Oh, c'mon, you've got to do better than that, Amaya's no fucking better." An impudent smirk followed that taunt as she poured more whiskey down her throat.

"Something like that; who cares." She paused, shifting to a more comfortable position, as he gave his unasked-for opinion of her job. "If I heard you right, you're a bounty hunter. How pathetic; no better than a trained hunting dog," She sneered, trying to goad him into a fight of some sort, for no reason other  than the sake of doing so. It just sounded like it would be fun."Think I'll call you Puppy from here on, since that's all you are."

The half-assed, lazy little barbs were tossed about with a complete disregard to, well, anything; a peculiar, vaguely amused smirk curving her lips as she once again chugged her whiskey; the only thing really wrong being that she'd be out before too much longer- what a damned shame, it just meant she'd have to try something else soon; which she wasn't exactly opposed to.

Amaya laughed. He couldn't help himself.

"Okay, okay," he said as he put his hands in the air in defense. "I get it. Puppy, at your service then."

He smirked and took another large gulp of the rum, this one living a twisted mark on his face briefly as he caught in his chest. "Damn, that's good," he breathed. He eyed the woman curiously, an almost blank, tipsy-like stare for several moments before speaking again. "Been in Thanatos long? I imagine you're only here to service ol' Red. Doing a good job of that so far, I might add."

She'd be damned, but Remi was actually having fun, even if their verbal sparring match was cut short again, at least for a moment; seemingly reaching one of their strange little split-second truces. There was just something extremely fun about the way things were ending up. "You're not a bad Puppy," That was delivered with another casual, entirely careless shrug.

That devilish little smile was back in place again as she momentarily went back to guzzling the whiskey; blowing harshly between her teeth as the pleasant warmth ignited even more intensely as it flowed down her throat this time; "Hell yeah, it is," She agreed, leaning forward a bit and dragging a hand through her hair, meeting his blank stare at least somewhat levelly; then shaking her head and laughing. She wasn't quite buzzed yet, but she was well on her way to getting there.

"No, just three days so far and it's my first time here," She admitted with a laugh. "The job I got was supposed to be quick and easy, but shit always changes-- I don't really give a damn, though. Don't have any plans for after I'm done with Red.  You haven't been doing bad, either; I guess it's just gonna be hard to bring the bitch down. What about you, going anywhere interesting when we're done with him?"

"Nope."

Amaya took another slow drink, eyes on Remi. "Not really," he said again. "Probably just back to Jin'ta for a while. See what the next bounty is, see what the next meal is, see what the next fuck is.. Simple life. Not much to it. I haven't been in Thanatos long myself. One thing is for certain is they are a little... strict on their ways, to say the least."

Another whip, and another thought. He cast a look at his company with a furrowed brow. "What's up with your right ear?"

"That actually sounds kind of fun," She acquiesed with a nod, slugging the whiskey back again, "Not a damn thing wrong with the simple life. I'll prob'ly just be fucking around, only the gods know where that'll be, til some bitch does something stupid and needs to be fixed." It really wasn't a bad job at all, unless the stupid bitch in question ended up being yet another pain in the ass that didn't want to explain where they might have picked up their curse, or why they decided it was a really great idea to slap a sleeping bear in the face. Yes, she had dealt with stupidity of that magnitude once or twice before.

She nodded, that smirk becoming a bit wry at his comment, "Yeah, you got that right; far as I've seen so far, they all seem to be kind of uptight and boring around here, with Red being the exception."

Toying with the whiskey bottle for a few seconds before tossing more back yet again, she arched an eyebrow and smirked at her company, "Now, that's a kind of funny story. A couple years back, I was drinking and playing cards with this ass who was getting pissed because I was winning. He decided he didn't like my ear and tried to cut it off. I knocked the hell out of him, got banned from that pub and spent the night locked up. Turned out the bastard was some stupid noble."

Even now, she thought that night had been extremely amusing; especially the expression on the bastard's face when she'd fought back. It was a shame that she'd been unable to recall the name of his noble house; she would have ended up extorting them at least a couple times over, back when the fiasco had happened.

"Sounds like you bring trouble anywhere you go," he mused. "Though I'm surprised - I would think a healer would be able to fix herself up a little better than that."

Amaya closed his eyes and sighed, the line between trading joking insults and being mean was a thin one that he never quite knew if he was crossing. "Sorry," he under his breath before topping off the bottle of rum. "That came out the wrong way."

She couldn't keep from lauging at his intial comment; "Trouble makes things that much more interesting!" At least, she thought so; she was pretty certain she'd go insane if she had to deal with the perfectly mundane on a daily basis. She really didn't think of life as a lot more than a game that she played to win; kind of like a never-ending round of poker. Yeah, if she were to ever try to settle down anywhere permanently, she'd be the one that was raising hell and breaking every possible law she could, just out of sheer boredom.

Had she even bothered to explain shit about the nature of what she did, she probably would have taken exception to his poorly-thought-out barb. Even though it was a blow to her ego, which caused her to draw a quick breath between clenched teeth and grumble under her breath. She knocked back another slug of whiskey before speaking again.

"No, it's fine; you didn't say a damn thing wrong. Ears aren't the easiest damn thing to patch up. I'm not the type of healer most people know shit about; yeah, I can sew you back together and simple shit like that, but so can almost anyone else. What I really do is lift curses and fix peoples' spirits when there's something wrong with them. That's why I take contracts, can't really go up to any old bastard you see and ask, 'hey, is your stupid ass cursed? Let me help you.'"

It was an extremely short explanation of her job, but the details could be kind of confusing to most other people she tried to explain it to- and that was while she'd been perfecly sober.

She groaned in an entirely feigned distraught manner when she realized her whiskey was gone; reaching out and grabbing the strange, clear bottle and uncorking it, shrugging, lifting it to her lips and tentatively tasting the iridescent fluid. A confused blink was coupled with a slow, pleased smirk: it was rather difficult to describe and entirely unlike anything she'd ever drank before. Smooth and quite bitter, like good liquer should have been; she couldn't quite pinpoint whether that was some kind of exotic fruit she tasted, or maybe some sort of herbs? Too complicated for her unsophisticated pallette. But what made it interesting was that, rather than having a fiery burn at the end, it was like having frost coat her mouth and throat. "Fuck, this shit's interesting. You have to try it."

The more he drank the more interested Amaya became in the woman and her story. Any sober night, he would have surely blown her off by now, if not before the shop, then at least by the time she got to that boring explanation of her job. He knew it was just the alcohol, but he felt the need to oblige anyway. It was the same feeling a man gets when he wants to fuck and doesn't have anything too pretty around, or when a young boy needs a boost of confidence.

"You sure can handle your booze," he said as he lightly took the clear bottle out of her hands. He gave it a solid, curious eye, before shrugging off any doubts he may have had. "Down the hatch, I guess," he whispered delightfully before plowing the substance into his throat.

Things were definitely taking another fairly interesting turn. Remi had decided that the man wasn't an intolerable fuckwit like she'd first assumed and was fairly intrigued by, even interested in Amaya. She was no stranger to the magic that alcohol worked; which definitely factored into everything. If she had still been sober, she most likely would have jumped the proverbial ship already; she normally didn't have much tolerance or patience for the living, generally sticking around just long enough to use someone for whatever she could get from them and preferring to leave before they even realized that she was on her way out the door.

"Yeah," She finished with an uncaring shrug, "It's normally pretty fucking boring," Which was nothing but a bold-faced lie; but she didn't see the sense in spilling it about some of the strange shit she'd seen and dealt with on more than one occasion. "What about you? I bet you've done and seen some interesting shit?" She was genuinely curious.

"So can you," She grinned, grabbing the remaining strange bottle off the table, uncorking that one and taking a long swallow, grimacing a bit at the unexpected, strange sweetness. Maybe it would have  been a better idea to grab one of the two others she'd seen somewhere in the room; but she was too damned lazy to want to search for them. The green shit would do, for now. Even though she was quite a way from being drunk, she was decently buzzed now and quite at ease. Maybe a bit later on, she'd even offer to share some of her narcotic herbs; those were always fun, too.

"You could say that," he replied absently, taking another swig before his face bunched up from the surprise of the after taste. And it true, Amaya definitely had seen some shit in his day. One could only speculate some of the wild times he had running with the Brotherhood, his old street gang in Serendipity. Horrible shit, actually. Too much for him, and maybe that's why he was here now - but he was just a young kid back then, and wanted to change the world.

He changed nothing and now he was drinking with some strange woman in a closed shop, hiding from an angry mob and a shit stain of a bounty running the streets, up for the taking by anyone else who wanted to make some quick coin.

But, all that was dismissive, because the woman clearly meant his time as a bounty hunter. There were some comical times, sure, but mostly uneventful in his time in Thanatos. He typically went after petty criminals, and they tended to be alot weaker than Thanatos' reputation presented itself with.

"Then, why don't you tell me about some of them?" It wasn't a demand, but more of an attempt to satisfy a bit of curoisity, not that she exactly expected an answer. Hell knew she'd do her best to deflect the exact kind of question she asked, at any rate. Tales of adventure and exploits were something she thought were pretty damned interesting.

She attempted to drink more of that green shit, but changed her mind; swallowing hard to keep it down as she re-corked the bottle and set it on the floor. She thought that shit was disgusting; though that was probably just her distaste for sweet things. Though she didn't really want to get up yet, she did so, for the sake of locating the remainder of the booze she'd found earlier. It wasn't too difficult of a task, but it did take a bit longer than she wanted as  she wandered around the room, digging through shit that lined the shelves until she triumphantly retrieved what she'd been looking for; one of at least a few extremely dusty, red bottles filled with a promisingly dark-colored fluid.

In the back of her mind, she still hoped that no one else had gone after Red yet- and that the lout hadn't ended up locked up; that way whenever they got around to it, they could knock the living hell out of him again.

She cracked the bottle open as she began to make her way back to her chair once again, taking a drink to get rid of the aftertaste of that foul, sweet shit; this was much better, fairly spicy and interesting. Once she made her way back around to her chair again, she flopped gracelessly down and flung her legs over the arm, stretching like a rather satisfied cat as she picked up the cards again, idly shuffling them another couple of times for good measure. "You in the mood to play; the higher the stakes, the better?"

Amaya eyed the bottle of green she sat on the floor with half-amusement, and then to her as she wandered about the room searching for more alcohol. For a general store, there sure was a lot of stash laying around - and the thought of them coming back to it empty-handed but with no goods stolen only gave him a quick laugh.

"What are the stakes, then?" he asked as the woman shuffled the cards, ignoring her other question. "Red's still out there, so I'm afraid I'm a little broke at the moment."

For a moment, Remi had to give pause to consider exactly what kind of merchant the shopkeeper might have been. It was a rather curious thought; based on their wares, they had to be at least reasonably well-off. However, as far as she could tell, unless someone didn't approve of said shopkeeper drinking at their residence, maybe semi-shady dealings took place here at times? That thought was actually pretty amusing and she could only imagine the keeper's expression when they came back to find their liquor raided.

She wasn't entirely surprised that Amaya had decided not to answer her other question and it damn sure wasn't anything to get pissed over.  "Yeah, he is; I don't have much left either right now, but it's no matter,"  She shrugged. When there really wasn't any coinage to wager with, she could come up with one other way to sort of make things high-stakes and she'd done it once before, a few years back. "Hmm... let's make it even riskier than just wagering coins. We'll decide what our own winning terms are, but you'll set my terms for losing and vice versa," She stated with a smirk.

The last time she'd proposed anything of the sort, the lady she'd been playing with had lost and had been made to run through the entire healers' academy, wearing nothing but her own shoes- and a pan on her head, instead of a hat.

Amaya almost choked up the liquor that was halfway down his throat. Setting the losing terms for each other? Well, that certainly sounded like trouble. He could only imagine what this woman would want out of him if he would by chance lost. Shit. What did she want? He couldn't help it when his eyes widened as he ran through all the different scenarios. She didn't want money, then what?

Oh well. No sense in backing down, especially since he had some time to kill.

"Sounds interesting enough, but let's start with the winnings," he said. "If I win, you have to help me catch Red again, but then I get the bounty and you go about your day. And if you win?"

Grinning like a contented cat as she swallowed more of her strangely spicy brew, Remi may have seemed to be laughing at her own private joke-- and in a way, she was. I wonder what I should make you do if I win? Oh, it won't be anything too horrible. Hmm... something that will amuse me. An idea began to formulate in her mind, that grin verging on being downright malicious, perhaps even a touch sinister as she made a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat. I don't know what the fuck you might want from me if I lose, so this is going to be interesting. She arched an eyebrow at that thought and snorted a laugh. Conjecture wasn't getting her anywhere, so she'd just have to wait until he decided to tell her.

She wasn't overly concerned, simply because she enjoyed high-risk situations. Once Amaya finally delivered his conditions, she knocked back another slug of her swill and pondered the situation for a moment, before swinging her feet back to the floor again and nodding. "Vicious, but I can live with your winning conditions."

So, he played businesslike, but dirty? She actually liked that, especially the way he twisted it to where she'd in no way profit from their endeavors. Leaning forward, an almost predatory gleam entering her eye as that grin grew broader, she nodded. She was going to work off the whole Red situation as well-- but she was damn sure going to have some fun with it. "Since we're both going after Red, my winning conditions involve him, too," She trailed off for a second with a laugh, "If I win, you're going to help me take down Red-- only I get all the profit. I won't hear you complain about it even once and you'll be wearing the ugliest, most scandalous dress I can find here for you. Because it would amuse me!"

Were her winning conditions a bit harsh? They might have been, but she  she didn't think they'd damage his pride too much, but she could have been wrong. It was supposed to be a high-stakes match, after all.  At least, she'd be able to get one hell of a laugh in the meantime. "So, what are the losing conditions?"

Suck my dick.

That's what he wanted to say, more from her "winning" conditions rather than anything he could dream up. The dress he could deal with but helping her catch that battle-axe baboon and give her all of the earnings? No chance in hells, but he could play.

His lips curled into a tipsy and devious little smile. "I accept," he said as he easily took down more of the booze. "When you lose, you have to wear that same dress, and lay with Red while wearing it before I haul his ass in. "

He took another swig.

"Unless of course you'd rather join him in his cell."

Go fuck a donkey, Was what she probably would have said, if she was sober. She had no problem with wearing a scandalous, ugly dress- hell, she was certain that if she lost, she knew how she'd twist his rather devilish losing conditions to suit her better. Lay with Red? It'll look stupid as all hell to just lay in the street, but that's no big deal. So just lay down, or take a nap? You didn't say I'd have to fuck him, after all.

"You cheeky bastard, you know I accept, because I'm going to win!" That grin grew even wider as she tilted her head, as though pondering something. If he was going to try to fuck with her like that, well, "Are you going to join in, or just watch?" Damn, but it was hard to ask that with a straight face.

Drumming her fingers on the table, it took her a few seconds to decide what she wanted his losing conditions to be; gods, it was hard as hell to figure out what might have been "going too far" and she might very well have been doing just that, even if Amaya was confident that he'd win. "Since we're both using Red and that dress as our bargaining tool... when you lose, while I'm collecting the pay and you're wearing the dress, you're going to very loudly and obnoxiously make it clear in every possible way that you just can't spend another day without poor Red; you've fallen for him and have realized that you need him to show you what it means to be a real woman!"

That was even more difficult to get out without laughing; she was pretty sure that she'd probably bitten a hole in her cheek while she'd tried to come up with the most absurd losing conditions as she could. Of course, there was the distinct possibility that she might have been punched in the face for suggesting anything of the sort (it wouldn't have been the first time,) but it was well worth it.

Oh gods, this is priceless.

Clearly Remi was getting just loose enough with her alcohol to misunderstand what he said, unless she had been itching to jump Red's bones from the start. A smile was on his face, sly, smug, and flooded with anticipation all at the same time.

"Is that it?" he asked grinning as he moved closer to partake. "You're on-hell, I may do that anyway just for fun. But I do gotta say, I didn't think you'd be so eager to fuck a man you kicked in the balls."

You son of a whore! Remi shook her head and sighed; it was apparent that she'd completely misjudged Amaya's perceptiveness and deviousness. Or perhaps she'd met someone who could read her quite clearly. Either way, she wasn't going to dwell on that for very long, cutting the cards to show that she hadn't stacked the deck, "I think I'd even be willing to pay to see that," She admitted with a shit-eating grin.

Cutting the cards and getting ready to deal the first hand, she couldn't believe she'd walked straight into a beginners' mistake. Even if she was just loose enough to read either too much or not enough into the terms, she had accepted them. That meant there was no backing out now. "I'm not going to fuck Red, or be locked up," She announced with a great deal of bravado, "Because there's no fucking way I'm going to lose." Even if she resorted to cheating, she didn't plan on losing; especially since neither of them had said anything against playing dirty.

That cockiness might have came across as carefree and even lazy, but it didn't mean she wasn't above throwing a quick punch if he kept pushing her- but that would have been quite fun, anyway! For the moment though, for the sake of at least trying to start their game, she did her best to screw her face into as placid an expression as she could pull off, "Since I dealt, you get to go first. I trust that you know how to play poker."

Amaya's grin only broadened as he watched her realization. Of course, he would never want her to actually lay with Red; he wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy, but it was amusing to see her squirm to say the least.

Her cocky attitude didn't fool him one bit, either. If she was so sure she was going to win, then she was probably going to cheat. Hell, maybe he'd even let her win given the stakes, but that all depended on the amount of alcohol he had at that point and whichever way it swayed him.

"I've played a time or two," he smirked. "How do you suppose we do this without anything to put on the table? I don't know if I'd be so willing to play strip with someone I've just met."

It might have been strange, but with pride and such high stakes on the line, Remi was planning on doing something that she usually didn't do: refrain from cheating. She'd gambled a time or five without cheating before, but that had usually been just to prove that she could do it. This time, it was only because it would make victory taste that much better. Like with everything else she did though, she was definitely going to play for blood and enjoy every minute of it.

"Good, I wouldn't want to be forced into teaching you," She drawled lazily, putting on that bored air yet again, yet clearly relieved. (She was a spectacularly shitty teacher who didn't have any patience for mistakes- and would probably punch a potential student every time they fucked up splendidly.) "Oh, come now," That phrase was punctuated with a teasing wink, "Don't tell me you'd swoon from embarrassment if you have to take off your boots!" Leaning forward and lowering her voice to a faux conspiring whisper "Gods damn, you'd never live that fucking scandal down; word would spread far and wide!" If the semi-repressed laugh didn't give her away, nothing would. She couldn't say for certain why, but she did enjoy fucking with Amaya every chance she got.

Leaning back again though, she rifled through her pouches. She didn't carry game pieces or tokens with her, but other things that might have worked; little stones -even though they aided her work, they were very cheap, easy to find and she didn't really think even a blind thief would try to steal them. Finally, she placed said tools on the table: a handful of smooth, roughly thumb-sized white quartz, black obsidian and brown agate stones on the table, separating them into two equal piles. "If you don't want to strip, we can use these. I'd say, hmm... agate could be worth the least and quartz is worth the most. I'll leave it up to you."

Remi just didn't care either way, not really; she'd played strip poker a few times (twice with friends that she'd wanted to embarrass and once with -of all things- a very drunk client; though at that time, they'd both been bored to tears, had good booze at their disposal and she might have used just a few too many narcotic herbs for her own good then, too.) At the same time, she could see the point in using the stones to bet with as well.

"You would only be so lucky," he mused. "And I'm not that popular around here, so word spreading would be the least of my concerns."

Amaya's eyes followed the stones as she stopped them onto the table. They looked like rocks she dug out of the dirt, so of course they were using them to play a drunken round of poker. He took another swig, thought over how he ended up in the situation again, and picked up his cards to glance over them.

His eyes drifted between the stones and his cards, and then finally he looked up at Remi with deadpan eyes. "Three quarters then," he said, scooping three up and tossing them in between the two "companions."

"What a shame; here I was, hoping you were secretly the swooning type!" It was supposed to come across as something of a faux-pout and a croon, something that any woman should have been able to do with no problem. And she did pull it off in a rather incredible fashion: that "pout" only served to make her look simultaneously constipated and pissed-off, while the croon simply seemed half-assed at best.

She wasn't about to use her more expensive stones to gamble with; amethysts, opals and pearls were more likely to roll off the table and get lost, so it had made sense to her. Digging into another pouch, she withdrew a small bundle of leafy herbs and yellowish flowers, popped a couple of leaves into her mouth and set the remainder of those herbs on the table, enjoying the sharp, pungent, almost astringent taste: this herb in particular wasn't that interesting- it was a very mild stimulant; most often used when one expected to drink themselves into oblivion and would need to ward off a bitch of a hangover.

While she waited for Amaya to decide if he was wagering or not, she studied her hand fairly closely for a few moments. In the back of her mind, she poured over the circumstances that had led up to this particular situation; which was simultaneously infuriating and strangely amusing. A nod was offered when Amaya announced his wager. Nothing in his expression or tone gave away if he was bluffing or not- which was good.  "I see-- and raise you one more," Her expression and tone were composed and flat as she pushed four agates into the ante pile.

"Good gods lady, are you okay?"

He put his cards face down on the table for a moment and leaned forward, eyeing her curiously. "You have to take a shit or something? I won't stop you."

For the first time, Amaya didn't know whether this was a joke or if the woman was indeed in some sort of pain. He'd pick his cards back up as soon as she gave him an answer.

"I'm perfectly fine," There was nothing but blatant confusion in her tone as she arched an eyebrow, turning her wrist and finally laying her cards face-down so he couldn't peek at them by accident (or on purpose.) Then when he asked his question, it dawned on her: the only other time she'd ever attempted the same face (which had been pulled in an attempt to actually get out of trouble,) she'd been asked never to make a face like that again, unless she was dying.

"No, I don't have to shit, I was trying to make that stupid-ass whiny face that noblewomen do! I guess it didn't work?" She couldn't help herself: slumping back into her chair, she shook her head and laughed; gulping her swill once she'd finally managed to settle down and catch her breath.

Amaya was steadily losing interest in the card game and more interested in the face she just tried to make. Still, he absently moved a few more quartz into the center, his cards still face down.

"Well, actually, I think you might be onto something," he teasted. "Here-" he lifted up his bottle and took a long, forceful slug, this time the alcohol hitting him square in the face.

That was it. He was drunk.

"Try that again."

Remi tilted her head, as though trying to figure out what was more interesting: her booze (that was being rapidly depleted,) trying to decide if she wanted to share her personal drug stash, the card game, or what Amaya was trying to do. When he shoved quartz into the center of the table, she followed suit, adding six quartz, most of her obsidian and four agate to the ante pile, without even looking at her cards.

If they were going to bet on... gods, did it even fucking matter what they were wagering on? Not as far as Remi was concerned right now. They could just continue betting on nothing and it would be fun, at least until all they had was a huge ante pile for no good reason.

"Do you, now?" She jested right back incredulously, slamming more booze down her throat -- Remi had finally achieved drunkenness. "Alright, how's this; haughty enough?" She made that same face again: constipated and pissed, though this time around, just slightly demented as well. As though she were openly mocking the entire concept of a "noble pout."

Amaya's eyes shot open in astonishment, and he chuckled, and he choked on his drink. That pattern seemed to be stuck with him for a moment. She's alright, he thought to himself as he went for another sip, despite his mouth still swallowing down the last pour.

He leaned back in his chair and knocked the bottle back, unaware, or uncaring that it was empty. Unfortunately for him, balance didn't work in his favor after a certain amount of drinks, and gravity took over.

"Shit!"

His chair was leaned back a little too much, toppling over and causing him to crash to the ground on his back along with it. "Fuck it," he chuckled. "I'm all in."

For good measure, Remi crossed her eyes, only adding to the sheer absurdity of that expression, though she couldn't keep them crossed for very long; looking at her nose, coupled with her current state of drunkenness, made her somewhat dizzy for the moment. You're really not an ass, Earlier, she wouldn't have imagined she'd think such a thing. "So, could I pass as a baronness?" She inquired playfully, knocking back the rest of her swill and dropping the bottle to the floor carelessly.

Fuck it, She thought, reaching into one of her pouches and withdrawing a good majority of her narcotics stash: flowers, leaves, mushrooms, a handful of dried berries, a small pouch of greyish powder. Stimulants, relaxants, painkillers, hallucinogens, shit that would simply and quite profoundly fuck with one's head. "Here's some more fun shit!" She announced as she tossed them onto the table.

When Amaya tipped backward too far and collapsed to the ground, though she did wince a bit in sympathy, she couldn't keep from laughing, managing to choke out a somewhat breathless: "Need help?"

Before announcing "Why the fuck not? I'll do it too," Shoving the remainder of her stones across the table, some plinking to the floor carelessly. She'd wait to see if Amaya might have needed help up or not before she would look at her cards, more out of curiosity than anything else.

"I got it," he grunted a response as he sat upright. He really couldn't remember what cards he had at all, but he was drunk and had lost all patience for the game. After several moments of a struggle with gravity and himself, he was back on his feet and dusting himself.

Then his eyes landed on the stash of narcotics the woman had laid out onto the table, and he smiled eagerly. "What do we have here," he said, taking a step forward to scoop a handful of the berries.

Shit. Gravity again.

He tripped over his feet and stumbled forward for a moment before lunging straight for the woman across from him.

"Okay," Remi stated levelly- or she would have, if she could control that damnable, drunken giggling as she picked up her cards to glance at them, not really giving a damn any more about whether her hand was any good or not. Three of a kind, of... something. With a careless shrug, she tossed her cards in the general direction of the table, though inadvertantly simply tossing a few of them to the floor. The game they'd been playing was a distant, foggy memory at best and well, she'd be damned if it even mattered at this point.

"The best shit money can buy," That came across as a teasing purr, "Help yourself!" When had she become so gods-damned generous with her stash? She didn't know and at that point, just didn't give a fuck as she reached for a few of the large, purplish flower-buds that she knew tasted like honey: stimulants, yet with vaguely hallucinogenic properties.

Oh, fuck. That was her very delayed thought as Amaya stumbled and seemed to launch himself directly at her; at that point, she just wasn't thinking quickly at all, laughing as most of their cards and some of the stones went careening across the room, "What are you--" doing would probably been the word that finished that half-question, because to her, it seemed like Amaya was trying to do his best attempt to fly.

In a matter of seconds, she found herself crashing to the ground, chair sliding out from under her and sliding under the table; laughing uproariously at the sudden and brief sense of weightlessness, one arm instinctively snaking around Amaya's waist as she flailed the other backward, in what was probably an attempt to soften the fall-- and failing to do so, gracelessly landing flat on her back with a dull thud, pinned to the floor, laughing. At least she'd managed to cushion the fall? "You're kind of shitty at flying," she managed to snort a bit breathlessly from the impact.

How embarrassing.

The bounty hunter could normally handle his alcohol quite well, and still good for most human standards, but something about the shit they had been drinking was so strong, so potent. One minute he was feeling good, loose smiles and tipsy thoughts, and then it just hit him in the fucking face and everything was la la land.

He blinked, and that blink must have lasted at least ten seconds as his head spun, and when he opened his eyes he saw her. Right under him. Gods. "Iamlildrunk," she slurred, smiling carelessly. "Don't use it as excuse, an excuse, don't use it to take advantage of me."

He slumped off of her to lay on his back, eyes up at the ceiling without a care in the world. Somehow, during all that commotion, he managed to swipe his cards off of the table, and he held them up for the both of them to see.

"Read'em and weep," he managed to say.

And he had nothing. No winnable hand. He was fucked.

The witch was usually known to drink some people under the table-  and well, she'd managed to keep pace with the bounty hunter with some degree of ease. The potency of the liquor, coupled with her desire to taste everything that she'd found, was probably what had did her in. Not that she was bitching by any stretch of the imagination; despite the dull throb in the back of her head, she was feeling good.

"No shit," So what if her words were fairly slurred; if she was wearing a goofy little grin? "Yeah, guess I'mkinda that way too... dun' worry, I wasn', just saved ya from bustin' your head open is all." Her grip was very easy to escape and once he'd rolled away from her, she unsteadily forced herself to her knees for a moment, groping around on top of the table until she found her narcotics- and cards. Well, at least most of them. "You don't do that... advantage-taking either, Birdie-- and don't try to fly again!" It was shot back with an entirely lazy little smile, only the comment about flying again coming across as any sort of reprimand, as she dropped the drugs on the floor and stared at them far too intently. It wasn't her entire stash, probably about half of it, but dammit, there was no harm in getting completely fucked up, now was there? "Got the prize- help yourself!"

She plopped one of the now-crumpled mildly hallucinogenic flowers into her mouth, followed by one of the berries, leaning in so she could peer with bleary eyes at Amaya's cards, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shaking her head, she'd try to aim a playful punch at his shoulder before revealing her own hand. "You fuckin' lost!" She crowed, taunting him playfully as she wobbled a bit on her knees, "No prize for you, I think!" Did you get a prize if you lost? Her mind was a little too fuzzy to remember if they'd decided there would be a consolation prize, or what it was supposed to be, if there was one. "I get the big prize, the bes' one!"

The news of his loss didn't seem to phase him one bit. That, or he completely didn't hear and comprehend her. Instead, he groaned heavily as he moved to sit upright, only to plop back down, face-first into her lap. "Bed," he muttered under his breath, eyes barely peaking open to see the strange texture in his hand.

Oh!

The berries!

With a sneaky grin, he stuffed them into his mouth, maybe a chew or two, but for the most part swallowing them whole.

She was a bit surprised that he didn't seem to give a damn about losing; surely that meant they'd decided there was some sort of decent consolation prize? No matter, everything could be sorted out in the morning, she supposed; jumping and laughing when he unexpectedly sort of collapsed into her lap. "Yeah, yeah, get your sleep," She slurred, "Guess I'll take tha firs' watch, if ya think we needit," Remi didn't exactly mind the prospect of taking first watch; she'd more than likely keep herself awake by getting progressively more fucked up.

Did she actually need to keep watch, anyway? All she could come up with was a somewhat firm maybe! Wasn't someone trying to kill them, or something like that? Yeah, they'd tried to do... something... a couple of times, but fuckit. It wasn't important.

Reaching for her stash, she retrieved a leaf or two and a mushroom: relaxants, maybe an anti-nausea leaf- those mushrooms would be playing hell with her mind in the most pleasant of ways, pretty soon. If she rememered right, the purple berries did something similar, but she'd be damned if she could recall what the orange or white ones did. One hand would reach down to idly play with Amaya's hair while her eyelids slid halfway closed; an extremely stupid, goofy smile spreading across her face.

Gods damn, but she was feeling fucking outstanding right now; the writhing, swirling, ethereal patterns that had begun to dance at the edges of her vision from the mild hallucinogen only helped to intensify her perception that everything was going amazingly well.

Amaya's eyes closed shut as his head rested on what felt like the softest lap in the world. Of course, by the look of her, that shouldn't be the case, but oh my gods did it feel that way during that time. Maybe he would stay there forever.

Come to think of it, everything felt soft. Everything felt so good. One eye slipped open as he looked at his hand, his vision blurry and his fingertips tingling, and his entire body having the coming and going sensation of waves.

He started to laugh. It was a soft, muffled laugh, but it was uncontrollable, and it complimented the stupid smile he couldn't seem to wipe off of his face. He peered up at the woman and said through giggled breaths, "You take first watch and I'll take first watch."

Remi's vision continued to swim in and out of focus as those dancing, swirling shapes faded in and out of reality; that stupid grin only growing all the wider with each passing moment- everything was too fucking funny and just plain nice~! She would have sworn that one of those illusory not-quite-beings had wrapped its wings around the entire shop, turing it into its own realm of wondrous enchantment: everything she touched just felt too fucking good for its own good, the myriad of scents that filled the dingy little workroom had somehow changed from dirt, booze and gods only knew what else, into the most intoxifying incense she'd ever inhaled.

And she was far too comfortable for her own good; when was the last time she'd bothered to do anything like this, just relax at complete ease, not wanting to move a muscle for the rest of eternity? Damned if she could remember, but with the way it seemed like time had completely ceased to exist, maybe the rest of eternity had already begun and for some reason, some divine force had decided to reward her with a bit of paradise.

Her hand continued to glide idly through Amaya's hair- and before too long, she'd even begun mindlessly petting him, much like she was holding some sort of kitten, or maybe a baby bird; her free hand reaching to randomly grab an assortment of leaves, flowers, mushrooms and intoxifying fruits, holding them like an offering after plopping a spotted red-and-yellow blossom onto her tongue, "Want some more?" That question was a down-right demi-human approximation of a purr.

Dammit, but was his giggling fit contagious; her own chortle joining his, she peered down in an attempt to focus on him instead of the hallucinations, eyes half-lidded and dull... and just sort of stared unblinkingly for a few seconds. So, they were both going to take first watch? She wasn't going to complain, that sounded like a damn great idea. "I like that. We'll just take all the watches, right here!" It made perfect sense to her distorted mind, if nothing else. "Yerra good kitten, you know that?"

"Meow," he said with a sly smile as he stared up at her, or maybe past her, at the swirling clouds that had somehow made their way from outside and into the little shop. It was quite the sight to see, and for some reason, it made him think about things completely unrelated. "I wonder what Red is doing right now," he said almost inaudibly. "I wonder if Red is having this good of a time, or if he's becoming a bounty hunter as we speak. That would mean," he stopped with a gasp. "The bounty hunter becomes the bountyyyy."

He couldn't appropriately finish his sentence without hurling himself into another uncontrollable fit of laughter, now holding at his ribs where his stomach grew sore. It lasted for several seconds before he abruptly stopped again, his glossed over eyes looking intently on Remi.

It was a delay, but he finally comprehended her offer for more of the fruits and other herbs. Opening his mouth, he said, "Have at thee."

She couldn't keep from giggling at Amaya's meow; "I've always liked cats." Her ministrations continuing even as she tilted her head to glance at an ethereal, winged serpent that shimmered in ever-shifting rainbow hues; unintentionally gasping at its unearthly beauty, even as it shifted form and burst into iridescent rain that didn't seem to touch anything. It was exceptionally beautiful and strangely soothing, "I wonder..." She murmurred softly, gesturing at nothing in particular; just the intangible things that seemed to be everywhere, "Could they be gods?" Of course, she'd never seen anything remotely divine, but she was just fucked up enough to wonder if somehow, a portal between the realm of mortals and that of the divine had opened just far enough to catch a voyeuristic glance of deities or demigods.

It took her a few moments to realize that Amaya had said anything at all; though when she realized exactly what he was whispering, she cocked her head, making a low, thoughtful sound in the back of her throat. Though the entire notion caused those gales of mirthful laughter to rise forth again, fading away only when a momentary fit of the hiccups hit; groaning and shaking her head. "I don't think he could possibly have as much fun as we are! Oh... If little old Red's not fuckin' an orc somewhere, I think..." What if he had become a bounty hunter, or worse, an assassin? "What if he's huntin' us right now?" She questioned with a crooked, easy grin, "Out there somewhere... wearin' a bridal gown an' shoes with those big-ass heels, wantin' to take us down an' out in the worst possible way!"

Somehow, the thought of possibly being hunted, assassinated, or only hell knew what else, by an all dolled up Red was something she thought was downright hilarous; that laughter returning in full force yet again, howls of mirth that caused tears of amusement to cloud her already glazed vision, her breath catching painfully in her throat, which only forced the laughter to mellow into sporadic giggling fits.

Remi arched an eyebrow in momentary confusion as Amaya gazed up at her, until she remembered that she'd offered him more drugs; her movement seeming (to her at least) somewhat sluggish, only reinforcing her theory that time had actually slowed down immensely, she would feed him a couple more pieces of fruit, as well as a couple of the herbs she knew from touch tasted decent, probably. If memory served her correctly, that was. Damned if she could remember exactly what they'd do, though.

Amaya ate more of the drugs, and life had become absolutely delicious. "There's are some nice dance moves you got there," the bounty hunter said in an almost child-like manner as he imagined Remi to be performing some sort of exotic dance. "You should teach me and then we-"

His eyes grew wide, a giggle came, and then he shot up to sit upright. He quickly snapped his neck to face hers, placed his hands on each one of her cheeks and rested his forehead on top of hers. "I have an idea," he said almost callously. "By now, Red's gotta be wanted dead or alive. Let's just kill the bastard! Yes, that will do!"

He released her from his grasp and clumsily got to his feet.

Whoa.

The room was spinning, and he loved every second of it.

"Afterward you can still have your thing with'em if you want," he wheezed, now believing that to be a reality of her desires. "But I think you can do better."

With a shrug and grin, once Amaya had eaten his share of the drugs, Remi polished off the rest of what she held rather greedily; oh, she could definitely fish the most hard-hitting of her stash (which would have depleted it for the time being) but she'd play a little coy instead of outright offering them. "I got... more," she announced with a playful little smirk, in reference to the drugs, "But they're very special, so..." She trailed off when Amaya complimented her on on a dance that she wasn't even aware that she'd been doing, chortling and murmurring, "You're a sweet pet, of course I'll teach you."

And suddenly, he was sitting up; damn, but he could move fast! She laughed as he reached forward, her eyes widening in surprise, then half-closing again; devilish, perhaps with a hint of a "come hither" little smirk-- though when he mentioned killing Red, that quickly became something quite devious. "Ooh, If she could have purred, she would have done just that; "I adore how you think! We'll kill sorry sack of shit, make him suffer; they'll call us heroes! Big fuckin' pile of gold, songs written about us!" Her wandering fingers trailed along the side of his neck as she breathed those thoughts, giggling.

Lurching to her feet, she blinked and couldn't keep from twirling in a quick, flamboyant little circle, arms outspread as she did so; the room had gone all topsy-turvy and it was hard as hell to tell what was up and down, those hazy, smoky images were pouring into her one after another and everything she touched felt like the softest, most luxurious velvet; she could live this way forever!

"Oh no," She giggled, staggering over to where Amaya was standing, slouching against one of the shelves, "I'm not gonna have a thing with Red," She didn't sound the least bit offended, rather, horribly amused; that laughter causing her to cough a bit, "I wouldn't if he was the last son of a bitch alive. But is that so; got any suggestions?" It was a thoroughly amused question; she was curious about his answer- and how to phrase the fucking brilliant plan she'd just come up with: Hey, ya know, why don't we become vigillante killers? Ya know, we go around killing criminals and collecting money for their fuckin' heads.

But before that, there was the question of dancing lessons that she'd just promised. Stretching languidly, groaning in an unashamed manner that was probably just this side of being lewd as her back popped in a most pleasing manner, "You said you wanted me to teach you to dance? You wanna do that before or after we kill Red?" She didn't care either way; shit, everything sounded like an incredibly fun idea. Had they both always been such gods-damned geniuses?

"Dance with me," he almost commanded as he moved his body into hers and grabbed her hands. "I'll show why there are so many songs written about me."

Amaya, in his current state, was nothing but certain that there were indeed songs and melodies in his name, but a wiser, more sober Amaya would call that a crock of absolute horse shit.

He dipped his head in closer to whisper in her ear. "Dance with me and then we will kill him," he said, unusually calm for a man who's mind was in absolute chaos. "We'll be vigilantes."

She grinned quite broadly at his near-command, which she didn't disobey, "You'd better," That low, raspy phrase was almost a challenge as she settled in comfortably against him, finding the correct position with an ease that probably came from at least a modicum of experience, willing to let him take the lead.

At that moment,  Remi was willing to accept that Amaya probably had a shitload of songs and ballads written about him, played far and wide by countless minstrels. Just as there were scholars and scribes that had filled volumes with tales of her exploits. However, a sober (and far more disbelieving) Remphaine would have challenged and him to find any bard worth their salt to sing just one of those songs; probably would have announced that if he had music written in his honor, she was damn sure a displaced queen. But she was neither sober nor disbelieving tonight.

She nodded, "I like the sound of that," Her voice was a throaty murmurr as she tilted her head upward slightly; "I couldn't fuckin' agree more with that plan," For a woman whose mind was reeling,  she sounded nothing less than at ease and perfectly confident that everything was going to work out perfectly as soon as they got started.

"You talk too much," he said as he placed his hand on her back and pulled her closer, his feet clumsily moving to the left and right and every which direction. "Just relax and listen to the music."

There was no music.

"And dip," he demanded as he leaned her back, his hand sliding and down and gripping her outer thigh. Not well enough though, cause shortly after what he thought was his greatest showcase of dance he had ever pulled off, his fingers slipped and he dropped her onto the floor.

Laughing, his eyes darted around the room. "The hells you go?" he muttered to himself until his eyes found her just below him. "What you doing down there?"

"So do you," She murmurred as he tugged her closer, her freed arm wrapping around his waist as she attempted to follow his lead: even as clouded as her mind was right now, it was difficult to keep from laughing at the clumsy, stumbling flailing that she couldn't quite find a rhythm for. Listen to the music. Words that she'd heard more than once- and was more than willing to oblige; though it was difficult to relax like she kept trying to do, when she couldn't exactly figure out where to put her feet next.

Though there was no real music to listen to, it wouldn't have been hard to allow the sounds of their combined footfalls and his breathing guide her through the steps; biting her lower lip to keep from giggling as the room continued to twirl around them- and then came the command to dip. Bending one leg back so that knee brushed against the ground, she extended the other so that her foot was stretched between his ankles, weight distributed so part of her weight was situated on that heel, toes pointed straight up, she lazily unhooked her arm from around his waist, lifting it upward as she would have done for a true dip; bending as far backward as she could over his arm as he gripped her thigh... and yet the dip didn't end.

Instead, she found her back and the back of her head making a close, personal acquaintence with the floor once again, giggling breathlessly up at him as she shrugged and slowly moved forward and got back to her feet again; "One of us slipped." For reasons she didn't understand, it was nothing short of comical. Grinning broadly and winking coyly, she'd close the gap between them once again; her chin thrusting upward briefly in a show of utter cockiness, hips swaying a bit more than necessary, stalking quietly on her toes, "Let me show you how I was taught to do it," It was a softly-spoken order, but an order nevertheless.

That grin not faltering, she would grasp his hands, moving one to her shoulder and the other to her hip, planting one of her own against the back of his neck and the other against his lower back, "Relax and let yourself go; there's always music, find and follow it. Don't worry about stepping on my feet, I don't fucking care. Just follow my lead and what you hear,"  She had risen to the tips of her toes to whisper that somewhere near the proximity of his ear, "If you do well, I'll teach you something you'll really fuckin' like!"

Pressing even closer, head lowering to rest against his shoulder, she would take the lead and try to guide him through the steps of a slow-paced waltz that she thought should have been easy to understand, even as fucked up as they both were; in her mind, the room had transformed into a breathtaking ballroom with an extremely impressive band playing non-stop, starbursts errupting brilliantly overhead. If he managed to keep up even reasonably well without elbowing her or somehow knocking her feet out from beneath her too many times, Remi would do her best to show him how twirls and dips were executed; adding her own little shimmies and flourishes.

She would remain pressed close as the crash-course on waltzing was completed, waiting to see if he was interested at all in that other "lesson", catching her breath as she rested against him.

Amaya was fucked out of his skull.

Yet, somehow through some sort of miracle or the blessing of the gods, he followed along with the woman and her dance brilliantly, appearing to be an expert to all the other onlookers in the room (that didn't exist). It was like they were in some sort of tavern-turned-club, jazzing about the room as drunken patrons cheered their name. 'That's it Amaya!' one man yelled out in encouragement. 'You're doing great!'

'Dance with me next, bounty hunter!' an imagined woman swooned from the bar.

He grinned as they danced for what felt like hours, when in all it were probably closer to a minute and a half. Earlier that night, he really hated this woman. Now, he felt like he loved her. For that night, at least.

"I'll take all the lessons I can get," he said absently as he stared at the pretty circle on the wall.

The last time Remi had gotten even close to being this fucked up, she and a couple of "friends" (who the fuck was she kidding? They'd been drunks, in some rat-infested little tavern with creaky floorboards, a roof that leaked and molded, wet rushes on the floor; a shitty little place with even shittier drinks, but it'd been in the middle of nowhere) had robbed and demolished a dry-goods store and set fire to a blacksmith's shop;  she'd made a "gown" from a moth-eaten curtain, proudly proclaimed herself the fucking queen of everything and everyone. Everything else had been a blur and she'd ended up waking up the next evening in a bed that wasn't hers, with two other women and a man- none of which she'd even known. Needless to say, that had been a gods-damned splendid two evenings.

And tonight was going even more fantastically than that memory had. Amaya had followed along with her perfectly; not fumbling a single step as the crowd went fucking wild, cheering, shrieking their names; the patrons were throwing money their way with wild abandon- and a few of them were even stripping, tossing random articles of clothing at the dancers, begging for a turn with one or the other. "Gods, Rephaine!" A couple of swooning kobolds cried out, "You two are the greatest things to ever live!" A noble decked out in impossible, infathomable wealth turned and begged: "Remi, I'm yours!" (What a gods-damned shame that it was nothing more than hallucinations.)

That stupid grin remained plastered across her face as she tilted her head back, watching the "starbursts" grow in number. There was no way to deny that earlier that evening, she had despised the bounty hunter; but now, she was doing something incredibly stupid: she was falling hard and fast for him; well, at least for now.

"Alright! Keep up, now!" She purred, gesturing at the imaginary "band"; which of course knew exactly what to play: the lights were dimmed even further as the imaginary drummer picked up the pace, pounding out a primal rhythm; soon to be joined by the slow, aching drone of a set of pipes and an ethereal, fragile dulcimer. (There was no music.)

The next dance would start somewhat slowly; with swaying hips and mincing steps, light, teasing, ghostly touches delivered with her fingertips, aimed to taunt and tease Amaya; though she picked up the pace quite quickly, with a quick pirouette that would swallow the distance between them; her movements more forceful, far quicker than during the waltz, she'd grab the bounty hunter's hands and place them low on her hips as her own would continue their teasing, taunting caresses. Without a word of warning, she would set a quick, demanding pace; hauling Amaya even closer, into one of those "brutal" exotic dances: all writhing, undulating, almost serpentine movements and quick, punishingly graceful footwork, paired with devilishly promising, slow caresses and shimmies, swift twirls, playful shoves and even more mischievous groping: a bellydance meant for two, rather than a single performer; extremely easy to get lost in and add to;  at some point during the dance, her shirt had somehow found its way off and was instead in her hand, playfully being used as a whip, a prop (like how a fan or scarf should have been used instead.) When it ended, it felt as though that performance had lasted an entire lifetime, though in reality, it had only been around three minutes or so.

Whoa.

What was happening?

The crowd was in an absolute uproar, the dancing was exotic and fluent, and the times were good. He blinked and the once alley cat-looking woman suddenly became a fucking Princess of sorts, and he was dancing his way up to be her Prince.

And what was this?

The music slowed down (in his mind), but she sped up. Brilliant! Nothing like a quick round of speed dancing to slow, sensual grooves, and he was going to give it all he had. His hands struggled to find a proper place to rest as the woman moved in alluring and almost teasing motions.

"Oh let me help you with that," he noticed her shirt dangling in a way that didn't seem proper. Instead of finagling it back onto her, he ripped from her and placed it on top of her head and some sort of hat.

Keep dancing.

When they were done, he blinked in astonishment. Somehow, over the course of the night, the woman went from the biggest pain in his ass to something of fascination. He was enchanted, mesmerized, infactuated.

"If yer' tryin seduce me," he said with lazy eyes, his hand reaching for a bottle of drink - it didn't matter, how much, or if the bottle was empty - and turning it upside down to empty as much as he possibly could into his mouth in one go. "It's working."

Under other circumstances, she would have definitely wondered what the fuck was going on right now-- but there was no point in anything as stupid as that.

The crowd's cheering and stomping had reached such a crescendo that was almost deafening; someone had started throwing rose petals their way as their dance had continued- had she not had to breathe, she would have kept going for eternity; keeping her King and their loyal subjects entertained until everything simply winked out of existence.

A useless scrap of cloth (probably a fan of some sort, in her mind at least) had been torn from her hand and discarded, only to be replaced by her crown; its veil (her sleeves) hanging elegantly down the back of her neck as they continued to dance; a shower of multi-colored rose petals raining down around them when it came to an end.

She shook her head in wonder, puzzling over something for a few moments.  Remi couldn't comprehend how the man had gone from being something of an unexpected rival -and someone she wouldn't have minded pummeling into oblivion- into someone incredibly intriguing, compelling and more than worth keeping around. Gods dammit; fuck everything, he'd completely won her over- that's all there was to it.

"Then my work's done," She purred with a coy wink, leaning down to retrieve that bottle of damnably sweet swill; not giving a damn about how disgusting it was, she'd wrench it open and basically just inhale the liquor for a few seconds, fumbling to set it back on the table. Another stroke of genius filled her mind: reaching into her almost completely empty drug pouch, she retrieved the last one she had at the moment: a fist-sized, rather thick, relatively fresh leaf. She'd stick the pointy end in her mouth and bite down on it; bittersweet violet juices flowing over her tongue and down her throat, dribbling to decorate her lower jaw and throat in liquid amethyst (it would just be a narcotic sap stain come morning.) "If you want some, have at you!" She'd giggle coyly around the leaf, fully intending on leading him into a game of "chase," and "keep away,"  but for some reason, her feet didn't really want to move very much.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Amaya lunged forward and picked the woman up without hestitation, and without warning, and slung her playfully over his shoulder as he stomped around the room looking for just the right spot. He wasn't shy by any means of the imagination, but he certainly was gentlemanly, or felt gentlemanly, enough to not steal her innocence in front of all of these people.

But they were cheering him on, and he gave a young boy a thumbs up as he paraded down the hall of the little shop, Remi strapped onto his shoulder and feeling like a fucking god.

Where's this door lead?

Without thinking, Amaya kicked in the door at the end of the hall in to reveal what looked like some sort of guest room. This will do, he thought, as he dropped her down onto what appeared to be a bed (it wasn't).  With a hungry grin, he started clawing at her leggings. "Help me get these rags off you," he said almost mindlessly.

---

Fuck that damn bounty hunter, and fuck that damn cunt that was with him. Red was stalking through the streets after escaping Amaya's grasp, balls sore as hell from that little witch's cheap shot.

Not only that, but he was drunk again, and he needed a little money.

'Most of the shops will be closed now. I'll just bust in and take whatever I can find,' was the dumb thought that glided through Red's head.

"I'd hope not," She teased, giggling and accidentally spitting her leaf out as she was quickly and without warning hoisted over Amaya's shoulder; watching the crowd scramble like dogs after a scrap to fight over that leaf, offering a playful (and entirely fucked-up) noble salute to a group of women that clapped and whistled loudly as she was carted off toward their "royal chambers."

She laughed as the door she hadn't bothered to open earlier swung open and she was deposited on what looked like an extremely luxurious bed draped in furs. (It might possibly have been a cot- or maybe even a pile of raggedy blankets on the floor.)

She didn't have to be asked twice; sitting up, she'd quickly unwind her whip from around her waist,sending those pouches and her daggers skittering across the floor; she didn't think they were anything worth looking for, quickly unlacing her leggings and wiggling out of them; clad only in an ornate feather-trimmed leather corset and long, lacy stockings held up with garters (she wasn't; Remi's didn't even own a corset) she reclined back onto the "bed," coiling her whip around one of her ankles so she didn't lose it, tugging Amaya down with her and whispering, "You're still wearing far too much."


Out on the streets below, a mangy, long-furred mongrel with numerous scars followed after the drunk, tail tentatively wagging as it whimpered and snorted; hoping to either be given a few scraps, or to follow him to a tavern where it could wait and beg. It was still quite nervous around people, but just smart enough to know that most of them didn't usually mind having it around,  as long as it didn't do anything to draw too much attention to itself.

What a blessing to find such a luxurious bed in a place like this, in a time like this! Truly the gods were blessing him and his growing desires as he helped he woman out of her clothes.

It was a table. An old, not-so-sturdy wooden table that may not last much longer at the rate they were going. He grinned sneakily, and went to remove the shirt that was no longer on him. He had forgotten that he ripped it off the moment he dropped her onto the "bed." No matter, one less thing to get out of.

It was only a second or two before he was out of his pants (wherein reality, it took him a long minute of struggling), and he grabbed the woman's legs and drug her closer to his waist, finagling himself for a moment until he made a connection with what he was positive was the inside of her.

Hallelujah.

---

"Eenie, meenie, miney, mo," Red grumbled a drunken slur. "Which shop here will Red done robbed."

His rhyming was atrocious, and so was his breath. Luckily for everyone, no one was around. He scanned the alley briefly, biting his lip as he contemplated which shop he would hit.

There was just no way that she could have begun to count her blessings; after all, the pair must have done something incredibly right, for the gods had damn sure been showering them in wealth, lurxury and anything else they might have wanted. Remi would have to remind herself to visit the in-palace temple and thank them for their favor and everything else. (There was no such palace or temple. Most gods didn't walk with mortals. More importantly, Remi was something of a blasphemer.)

An old rickety table was definitely close enough to being a bed. Though based on its creaking and groaning, it was something of a miracle that it was still standing- at least for now. Remi would prove that though she was definitely not a gentle fuck, she was damn sure creative- and that her flexibility translated very well as far more than just a dancer or while fighting; capable of pulling off some rather interesting contortions.

The gods were singing.


The poor stray had no idea what Red was saying- not that such a thing mattered at all; it was just trailing along at a distance, its whining slowly but steadily becoming yapping barks.

((Haha, the dog's just there to piss Red off. XP))

Passion was not one of Amaya's strong suits, but fucking like some sort of wild animal who didn't know where its next meal was coming from was; and he found himself in that exact position. He couldn't recall the last time he had gotten his fix: a week, two weeks, a year (though in all likelihood it was just a night or two ago. He did get around, after all.)

In and out he went inside the strange, unfamiliar goddess, the wooden table beneath her back rattling with each new powerful thrust of his hips. At that point, one couldn't be sure how he had even met such a wonderful woman, but one didn't give a shit either.

Something about it felt so wrong but so right as his drunken stamina worked in his favor, panting in controlled breaths as he delivered what he believed to be his greatest performance. The greatest performance of his generation. The greatest performance of all fucking time.

It was the most focused he had been the entire night.

---

"Gods damn dog," Red huffed while whirling his arms around. "Go away! Shoo!"

The stray continued to bark at him with eyes that said 'Pay attention to me!' but the large oaf of a man didn't want any part of it. "Ya blow my cover," he slurred, spitting in its general direction. "Just a dead dog, that's what you are."

Oh, what was he doing?

Right. He needed some quick coin, and no one seemed to have noticed him yet by some incredible feat. Turning around, he was face to face with the front door of what appeared to be a general shop.

Thankfully, Remi wasn't one of those women who put stock into anything such as passion or other foolish notions; rather, fucking like some beast was her style- and it seemed as though her efforts were definitely well worth it. She was fairly certain the last time she'd rutted was within the last decade (though that wasn't true at all. Remi had no problem with jumping or being jumped by anyone that caught her interest- and she'd fucked the brains out of the first mate and captain of the pirate ship she'd boarded earlier that afternoon; taking a turn or three with their two pretty wenches as they'd arrived, as well.)

The table beneath her threatened to collapse more than once as she met his powerful thrusts; vicious, desperate and ravenous, an insatiable beast that might have even dug teeth and nails possibly a bit too deeply into Amaya's skin. The sheer wrongness of it only made everything all the more right -it was probably extremely taboo to fuck a god, after all- and for a few moments, she had to question herself about when and how she'd met such an incredible deity in human form; but that wasn't anything worth giving much, if any consideration to.

Her typical endurance, combined with drug-and-booze-filled frenzy only continued to push her onward; giving just as good as she got- and it was paying off magnificently; pouring all of that excess energy into what she hoped would be an extremely memorable experience. At some point -she couldn't remember exactly when- it seemed to her as though their bed had fallen away, that they were simply floating mid-air, held aloft by an infathomable, divine force. (Of course, they weren't. The table had finally given out beneath her.)



As Red yelled at the dog, it only cocked its head and kept barking, wagging its tail frantically and even bouncing on its paws in an attempt to seem more appealing. When he spit at it, it hopped backward a few feet, though would rush forward again to join him beside the door, lifting a rather large paw and scratching at the wood.

Fuck.

She felt absolutely amazing. He could go like that all day, and did his best to as he picked up both speed and power, his waist moving back and forth in intense motions between her parted legs. What a world to be living in.

Crack!

The table collapsed from under them, and he slipped out of her as she traveled with the broken surface. Being completely thrown off balance, he tumbled forward, giving her a brief, potentially unflattering angle of little Amaya and the boys before his own face made acquaintances with the floor.

"Shit," he grumbled before quickly making his way back to his feet. "Even a bed meant for the gods couldn't contain us," he huffed as he helped the woman back up. He went to place her back on the bed, but quickly realized it was still broken for some reason, so instead he turned her away from him, pushing her against the wall with an aggressive slap on the ass before taking her from behind.

Oh boy. Now we're talking.

That was the thoughts that ran through the bounty hunter's head as he pulled her hair back, slugging away like some sort of beast fresh from hell, with the sounds of their skin colliding with each other only feeding his hunger further and driving him wild.

Then, the sound of a door crashing open rang out from the other room, but Amaya sure as shit didn't hear it.

Son of a bitch! She was having the most incredible time of her life and never wanted it to end; he felt perfect and she'd have been more than willing to go at it for the next couple of days. Now, that was a plan she could get behind: bar the windows, lock the door and just devour him for as long as inhumanly possible; with a casual disregard for anything like stopping for rest or sustenance- they didn't need shit like that, anyway!

She giggled breathlessly as she slipped out of his grasp and gravity took its hold, sending her crashing to the ground and him tumbling down as well; "Well, fuck the shitty designers here!" Why had they assumed that a gilded bed meant for gods would be able to withstand them? That meant they were something even greater than mere gods; perhaps they'd transcended everything and were actually the king and queen of all the deities. That was the only thing that would have made sense. "They'll make us a new one!"

At some point during the mishap, her whip had found its way free of her ankles and had draped itself over her shoulders (it hadn't; she'd moved it so it wouldn't have ended up lost in the rubble) and she couldn't understand how or why their bed hadn't just put itself together, like it was supposed to have. But that was of no consequences.

She'd groan and laugh as Amaya turned her away; growling in approval when he pushed her into the wall and slapped her ass, offering no complaints when he took her from behind; Don't stop now, we're just getting started! Was the extent of the healer's fleeting thoughts as her hair was pulled; head tilting backward so she could drag tongue and teeth along the bounty hunter's throat; biting, nipping, that rumbling sound rising in her throat. The sounds of skin slapping and colliding viciously did nothing to satiate her lust; nor did the hellish, violent pace that they were setting; she'd rock and slam backward even harder against Amaya, bracing both hands and one foot against the wall; using those extremeties to help increase her force.

Though she did hear the sound of the door opening, she simply disregarded it as being nothing more than the "castle" settling, nothing worth paying attention to at all.

Red stumbled into the house with a drunken smile before his knees gave out without warning and he toppled to the ground. "Sonofabitch," he slurred as he tried to get to his feet. It was to no avail, however, because as soon as he began to get up, using his arms as leverage, his elbows gave out as well and he was back on the ground.

He would repeat this struggle against himself for an embarrassingly long time, perhaps five or so minutes, before finally making it back to his feet with a sense of false accomplishment and the look of a smug idiot.

He was so involved in the process that he didn't register the sound coming from the other room. Was someone clapping in there? It was a very consistent clap, but he paid it no mind. Probably nothing to be concerned with.

He rifled clumsily through the shop until he found them: Amaya and Remi, fucking each others brains out like some sort of animal-frenzied ritual.

Amaya looked over to the man that just entered the room, still steadily pumping Remi with his flesh as a little grin crept up into his lips. "Oh, hey Red," Amaya said through a pant, winking at him as he punished the woman for alluring him to the point of explosion. "Get comfortable, this will take a while. I'll have that bounty when I'm done here."

Red stood there, absolutely dumbfounded, and didn't notice when the little stray hiked its leg up and pissed on his boot.

The sound of stumbling footsteps caught her attention for a moment; long enough for her to glance toward the door as Red stumbled in, tossing a wink in his direction as she gladly accepted the punishment that Amaya dealt and delivering her own in turn for him daring to ensorcel her the way he had. "Yeah," The word was a breathless part moan, part growl, "Find yourself something to eat, get make yourself to home. We'll be done in a few days, then I'll kill you."

There was something probably unsettling with how casual that death threat sounded, despite the lewd noises she was making; the thought of having an audience only caused her to redouble her efforts, If he wants a show, I'll give the bastard one! Be the last thing he sees, anyway.[/b] No one had ever said Remi had any sense of shame and there was no reason for her to get one now;  hammering and arching back against Amaya with a renewed strength and vigor; giving a new meaning to the terms "contortionist" and "succubus," her attention once again focused solely on Amaya. She wouldn't have given a shit if the entire city had filed into the room to watch their brutal, primal performance; which could have been its own form of art.

Just as soon as he noticed Red, he completely forgot he was there, and continued to do the good work of the gods to serve the woman he worked so delicately from her backside. In reality, he was probably bruises her knees as he continued to thrust her into the wall, relishing in the madness of the sudden but what felt like urgent fuck. Slapping skin, groans, growls, and muffled hums of pleasure were accompanied by the sound of the crowd that just re-entered the room. 'Faster Amaya, faster! She's begging for it!' said one man without a face. 'I've never seen anything so astounding in my life!' a small kitten with a stylish-looking fedora and standing on its hind legs cheered.

He leaned forward and nibbled at her ear, breathing heavily into it before averting his eyes and spotting his old bounty target.

"Oh, hey Red," he said again, completely forgetting he was ever there. "May as well make yourself at home. I'm kinda busy at the moment. But you can watch with everyone else if you're looking for pointers."

Red looked upon them, mouth agape, with clenched fist. He'd seen enough, and charged with drunken fury in their direction.

It seemed as though Red had simply led the demanding, clammoring crowd to them; which wasn't exactly something to get pissed over; not when everyone was cheering, stomping their feet, paws, or in the case of a couple of demons, hooves; young and old alike, from the wealthiest sons of bitches alive to the lowliest of scullery maids and everything in-between, including a winged goat, a few harpies and even a siren floating in a bubble, had arrived. Red just sort of faded into that crowd as Remi continued to carry out the will of both the divine and the infernal: to incredibly tenderly guide the man past the realm of mortals, even beyond the realm of the gods. It was a matter of life-or-death.

Though in all actuality, she had probably scratched and bitten Amaya until he bled from a few different places. Her knees were bruised, she was a little scraped up from being knocked into the wall, probably had a couple of splinters somewhere, as well. But there was no denying the animalistic urgency of the fuck; skin slapping together and beating off the wall, muttered profanities and wanton moans, vicious growls coupling with purrs and hums set an angelic choir to play, accompanied by the crowd's voices. "Come on, Remi! Give him your worst!" A two-headed ogre woman bellowed. "Why did we never hire you two before?" A rabbit in a foppish overcoat lamented. "We're your students! Teach us everything you know!" Came the cry of an over-eager pair of snakelike twins.

Remi groaned lowly in her throat; skin shivering deliciously as she leaned back as far as she could again, slowly trailing her tongue across Amaya's collarbone and a bit lower; only catching Red again from the corner of her eyes in that strange position.

"Yeah, we're teaching--" That amiable-enough explanation was cut short as Red charged at them. As she lifted her head again, rage warred with lust for supremacy; she wasn't entirely certain if Red's first blow had hit either her or Amaya -at least she didn't feel anything remotely like a punch, just yet- but she'd be damned if she was going to let anything of the sort happen. "Find someone in the crowd to fuck," She spat at the poor drunkard, "This one's mine!" When had she become that gods-damned possessive? She had no idea- and it probably didn't matter, anyway.

Without stopping the rhythm, she reached up and slid the whip from her shoulders, flicking her wrist sharply and aiming to crack its tongue across Red's face.

Red's fist made direct impact with Amaya's jaw, and suddenly reality came rushing back in. He blinked, not noticing Remi's whip retort, and slowly glanced around. They were in the shop still. He was... naked. He was also...

Oh gods.

Down a couple of bottles of whiskey and rum and eat a handful of narcotics and all of a sudden it's just okay to fuck anything with two legs and an ass. What was he thinking? When he had met the woman, he couldn't wait to get her out of his sights, and now this?! How long had they been going at it, anyway? By the throbbing sensation in his little soldier, just long enough for him to have more work to do.

Fuck it.

He slipped away from the woman and turned to Red. Then, still very much in the nude, he threw a quick fist at the man and it crashed into his nose. You could almost hear the bone break as Red howled out in agony, stumbling backwards like the overgrown shithead he was. Without hesitation, the bounty hunter took a step to him, winded up for the impact, and kicked him square in the balls.

Poor Red. It just wasn't his day. He dropped to the ground with a heavy thud.

The rush of adrenaline flowing through her veins cleared Remi's head quite nicely; not even a dull fog remaining. Unfortunately, that meant she was looking around the shop in a puzzled manner, eyes narrowing dangerously as they flickered from Red, to Amaya and back again.

"Ah, shit!" Such an incredibly eloquent statement that was, especially when she realized she was naked. Sure, there was no harm in getting shitfaced drunk, devouring drugs like they were exceptionally rare and then fucking- but son of a bitch!

Had she been thinking at all? Apparently not. Judging from how badly she ached everywhere, the large bruises standing out rather remarkably against her already particolored skin, they'd probably gone at it for one hell of a long time. She'd absolutely fucking despised the man when they'd first met-- and now, what? She'd heard of keeping her enemies close, but "fuck your rival gods-damned senseless" was a new low, even for her.

"Fuck everything!"  That was neither a hopeless cry nor a half-assed grumble, but a full-on fucking battle cry when she realized that, for some horribly masochistic reason, she'd actually winced. In gods-damned sympathy, no less, when Red punched Amaya in the face. What in the ever-living blue fuck was wrong with everything?

Fuck both of you, fuck this stupid little shop, fuck the drugs, the booze, all the gods and demons, that dumb little dog in the corner, but most of all, fuck thinking!  Not giving a shit, she just sauntered right up to the poor, unsuspecting fool that had just been savagely kicked in the balls  and dropped by the bounty hunter, Remi strode up to poor Red's fallen form and without warning, not only did she cock her leg back and ram her own knee into his balls three times in quick succession, then she'd follow that up by actually thinking. For the moment. Moving quickly, she would bind Red's wrists together with her whip, taking great satisfaction in jerking and twisting the whip as tightly as she possibly could. This time, if everything went well, he wasn't going to get away. And she did it while still naked.

It wouldn't have been surprising at all if poor Red had no fucking idea what was going on, had he still been capable of thinking.

The bounty hunter watched in amusement as Remi delivered a few more cruel blows to both his body and his ego, a smirk on his lips as he stood there completely unclothed. "Hey there, little guy," he said walking over and kneeling next to the dog as the woman beat the ogre into utter unconsciousness. "Thanks for bringing my bounty to me."

He stood back up when the head rush hit him. Fuck. He felt like he was going to die, his head throbbing, his stomach churning, and his vision blurring. He'd be better off to down a few more bottles of rum, eat a handful of berries, and sleep it off.

Peering down below his torso, he sighed. There was also this problem to deal with, he thought before glancing back over at Remi.

"Are you done?" he asked, amused through the agony. "I think you got'em."

Remi was fairly certain that whatever gods and demons might have existed were definitely out to get her; swaying momentarily on her feet as the first muscle tremor coursed its way along her spine. Rather than stopping, she grit her teeth, hauled off and delivered a couple of quick, sharp punches to Red's gut for good measure. The poor ogre would probably be mighty pissed whenever he was able to recover from the beating.

She rocked forward briefly on her feet, managing to catch herself before she dropped to her knees; groaning as the room began to tilt and sway again, she shook her head and allowed her eyes to close momentarily, pretty certain that whatever gods and demons that might have existed certainly had it out for her. Between the white-hot pain that lanced through the center of her skull, the painfully dry throat and desire to just lay down, let the floor open up and swallow her whole, there were other things to attend to.

Such as preparing a hangover remedy, finding a few dozen more bottles of whiskey to down, completely depleting her dwindling drug stash (only the absolute best was left after all- and there was no time like the present to get started on a real mind-fuck of massive proportions) and dealing with other needs. "Yeah," She stepped away from Red at last, glancing over at Amaya as she set about gathering her pouches; stumbling around a bit as she retrieved the two most important ones: her damn-near empty drug pouch and the much heavier one full of medicinal herbs, There's... more important shit to do right now, anyway."

With an entertained little smirk, she dug through the medicinal herbs frantically, almost desperately; finally retrieving a small, carefully-wrapped satchel of dried, powdered herbs, mushrooms and flowers. Another desperate lunge as her stomach lurched had her tumbling head-over-heels as she retrieved her liquor flask; opening it quickly and adding the herbal concoction to... she couldn't fucking remember if it was wine, whiskey, water or orc piss in that flask... she'd shake the quickly-concocted remedy and down half the flask before offering it to the bounty hunter, "I won't lie... it burns like hell going down and tastes like death, but it'll keep you from dying... and I've been savin' the best shit for last." That was panted as she got back to her feet again, offering the bounty hunter the extremely light drug pouch.

The little dog's tail swayed hopefully as it crept slowly toward Amaya, ears perked and paws dancing. It was still a little on the cautious side, but it was curious and knew the difference between being yelled at and scolded, at the very least.

Fuck it.

Amaya slipped the bottle from out of the woman's hand and downed it. All of it. At least, the rest of it, before eagerly accepting the drug pouch with no questions asked. Can't deal with this kind of pain right now, he thought as he emptied the bag of some its narcotics and tossing them into his mouth.

No time to chew. Just swallow them with the booze and see what happens.

...

...

Oh. Hello, old friend.

His face slowly turned to Remi, smiling lightly before a muffled laugh made its way out into the open. He looked at her for several moments before shrugging and laying down on his back. "Your turn."

With a wince and a shrug, Remi accepted the pouch back, dug out everything that was left and with a cheeky grin, quickly devoured the remnants, not wanting to deal with reality, pain, or anything of the sort at the moment. More than anything else though, fuck thinking about how to haul Red off. Of course, she'd have let the bounty hunter borrow one of her knives if he'd wanted to help her butcher the oaf, but some shred of coherence told her that could have been a fairly bad idea.

This... now this was nice! (Even if it meant she'd probably be begging for a swift death soon enough, was once again starting to forget that the shop wasn't their house and that there were possibly still guards and civillians looking for them.) "Oh hey again, Red. Hey, Fuckhead! Our house is your sleeping place," She murmurred with a soft hiccuping giggle, addressing the unconscious drunkard and poor, confused dog  as though they were a couple of old friends.

Feeling no pain, she just kind of dropped to the floor with the loose-limbed sort of grace as someone who didn't give a damn (or more accurately, like a sack of potatoes,) stretching and getting comfortable as she looked over at Amaya with a smirk. "It's always my turn- and I think we just managed to cheat death!" The last part was announced quite cheerfully; as though they'd done something exceptionally praiseworthy.

The poor little dog just kind of backed away slowly, snuffling and curling up in one of the unoccupied corners, instinctively knowing it would probably be a great idea to stay away from them both.

If Amaya wasn't swimming in a cloud of ecstasy, he would have groaned in utter frustration.

"What are you doing?" he asked almost impatiently as he motioned to the area between his legs. "That is not what I'm talking about. We still have work to do, you and I."

Sure, he had momentarily came back to reality and his mind twisted in thought and realization of what they had been doing. He was not necessarily proud of himself for it, nor was it something he could say he would do while sober.

But.

A man had needs. Might as well finish what they started.

She had no idea how long she'd been laying there (it had in actually been only a few seconds) while she'd been waiting for the floor to stop twirling so frantically, but now that she was certain that she could move again without losing her balance as a haze of euphoria settled over her, she grinned lazily at Amaya, stretching languidly, she would wink and arch her back in a manner that was probably more than a little maddening. "I was starting to think I'd have to work alone," It was a simple enough explanation.

Even though she'd started coming back to reality -might have even started thinking, for that matter- Remi couldn't have said that she'd been pissed or anything of the sort, just confused. Sober or not, she wouldn't regret a damn thing, she never did. If she was to be honest with herself, even if she had been sober (if they hadn't been arguing  or in a fist-fight for the hell of it) she would have tried to push her luck when boredom started to sit in.


If a sober Remi was something of a pleasure seeker, fucked-up Remi was an insatiable beast.

All she needed to do in order to swallow the distance between them was roll over; which she did rather quickly, rising to her knees as she did so, moving to straddle Amaya's hips. "It's my turn now," She growled teasingly; shifting in what was probably an extremely infuriating manner as she smirked down at him, leaning down to seize his earlobe between her teeth, just barely biting down; thrusting her hips downward sharply, sliding him quickly past her waiting entrance with a low growl; "I wish I knew who I let borrow my whip."

She would begin biting and licking a tortuously slow path down his neck, just barely rocking her hips against his; the devilish gleam in her eyes promising exquisite torture as just the tips of her fingers would glide across his sides and chest. "Grovel. Beg," Remi commanded; even though it was quite difficult for her restrain herself.

Some over-eager observer had already begun to applaud (it was just the sleeping dog, rolling over and knocking a paw against the wall.)

His eyes could have rolled back behind his fucking skull.

"Beg for no one," was his half-ass reply as the woman took complete control. He wasn't the one to really submit to anything or anyone, but the drugs he absolutely inhaled seemed almost meant to spin his head by design, and the rest while simultaneously getting off was serving to be his greatest friend at that moment.

A pack of wolves (the stray dog) entered through the forest clearing (by the door) and howled in approval as the two entered the final stages of their ritual. It was all about getting his, and then he could suit up and take Red in.

Oh. Red.

He glanced over to see the man still very much unconscious, and still very much stupid.

Good.

"You'll change your mind," Remi's voice oozed absolute cockiness as she rode Amaya without mercy, giving up on restraining herself at that point. The drug concoction she'd stuffed into her face (she wasn't even sure what all had been left in the bottom of her pouch- and didn't care) driving the woman into a frenzy while her surroundings swayed, flipped and spun at such a remarkable speed that she was convinced that before much longer, she would slip from her mortal form and become time itself. And she'd be damned if that was going to happen before she received what was due to her.

Something had finally started pounding on wardrums (there were no drums) as she sped up even more; driving their ritual into a fevered pace. Once she'd laid claim to her reward, it would be time to get dressed and leave, even though something in the back of her mind told her that she wouldn't just be jumping out the window and sneaking aboard the next ship, there was something important to do before then, something involving Red- but at the moment, that didn't matter; her head lulling backward, eyes rolling and closing as she redoubled her efforts, limbs just starting to tremor and spasm.

A trio of jackal-deities began to bark enthusiastically; their congratulations would be soon in order. (It was just the stray dog.)



"That's my shop!" A very frustrated voice cried out, noticing that the front door had been kicked in.


((Haha, they just can't catch a break! X3 Since the shopkeeper's an NPC, like with the dog, you're welcome to control 'em too, whenever you want~))

Where did the time go?

The night passed and hardy group of well-intending bastards were still frolicking in the shop well into the morning. The shopkeeper groaned in panic as he entered his little general store. Who in all hells did this?

It didn't take them long to find them.

The stray sleeping in the corner, Red unconscious and bruised on the floor, and the bounty hunter and his new squeeze playing nearby the unconscious idiot. Not only that, but the place was absolutely filthy!

"W-What the hells is going on here?!" he cried, almost frozen to the floor as his eyes looked upon the scene in horror.

Amaya tilted his head over to greet the new man just in front of the lively orchestra of musicians. "Uh oh."

Spine bent backward in one of her almost-fluid contortions, Remi's eyes snapped open at the sound of the newcomer's voice, blinking dumbly for a second as she peered at the shopkeeper's chin from that strange angle, then righted herself again, a shit-eating grin plastered across her face. Fuck! We've got to get out of here! Was what she intended on saying. Instead, what came out of her mouth was a disbelieving snort, followed by: "Oh, hey there, sir! Don't mind us, we're leaving now!" The low groan that punctuated those words probably stated quite clearly that, had the shopkeeper not walked in and screamed, she would have had no intention of leaving yet.

She would lean forward again, reminding herself not now, this demon's probably going to kill us! and whisper in Amaya's ear: "Dammit... not again! That demon's your father, isn't he?" That theory made sense to her, at the moment (even though in hindsight, she would realize how fucking stupid that question sounded.)"Help me throw that guy out the fucking window and we'll jump, too. Then... fuck it, who knows?" She was clearly talking about pitching Red out the window. (The best plans were hatched while royally fucked up and starting to panic, were they not?)

It didn't help things at all that the forest (room that they'd done a splendid job of trashing)  was starting to tilt to the side. Like a ship, with a magnificent orchestra playing their greatest ballad while the captain prepared to go down with the sinking vessel. Eyes darting around across the floor, she would -with a very irritated grumble- roll off of Amaya and stand up, reaching down to offer to pull him up as her free hand groped across the floor for a few seconds, finding one of her daggers. Grasping the hilt, she'd stage-whisper: "Now!" The extent of her plan was: knock out the demon (shopkeeper), help the bounty hunter with getting Red and the dog out of there and then just do whatever the hell seemed like a good idea at the moment.

As soon as Remi rolled off of him, his body felt so light. So light that he felt like he was floating, and that only resulted in another growing giggle fit. She must have weighed at least one thousand pounds, that Remi. Why else did his body feel like some sort of wonderful liquid mush circling around in a fluffy crowd as the band played his favorite song.

He stood up and-

Whoa boy.

He was so light. In that current state of mind, he felt like a feather. One that could gently leap into the air and float out of harm's way.

Oh yes. What a wonderful idea, he decided. He would indeed float, and the world would be a better place because of it.

He looked to Remi and gave her a shit-eating grin and a thumbs up as if to notify her that they were on the same page. Unfortunately, Amaya was on the same page as absolutely no one, and that was apparent by his next action.

Without another word, he ran at the shopkeeper at full speed, zipping past him and heading the open door. Now he was back out in the early morning streets of Suna, running around very much fucked out of his skull, and very much naked.

The moment her plans were hatched, everything went from "just sort of bad" to shit, it's time to have some fucking fun! Her favorite artist was sitting in the corner, painting a magnificent portrait of them and the jackal-wolf-deity (the stray dog) fighting a battle with an army of demons led by Red and the shopkeeper. The pirate crew (in her mind) were roaring sea chanties at the top of their lungs. She was filled with a peculiar energy the likes of which she'd never felt before: fuzzy and gods-damned invincable; as though the spirits of the moon had wrapped their wings around her.

Remi grinned at Amaya and winked in acknowledgement- and that was when everything became perfect. (Or, more acturately, nothing but chaos insued.) The bounty hunter took off to the gods only knew where. Remi bellowed something that was meant to sound threatening (but was nothing more than complete gibberish) as she charged in hard and fast to drop the shopkeeper with a knee to the balls; then pivoted on her heels and rushed at Red, grabbing ahold of her whip and ripping it free from his wrists, before jumping out the window.

Landing on her knees in the street below, she quickly climbed to her feet again, caught in the throes of a giggling fit as she took off at a sprint down one of the alleys. Naked and armed only with that whip, racing against the morning wind, fucked up beyond anyone's comprehension as she left the alley and emerged onto the streets-- only to circle back behind the shop again, veer off toward the right and set off on an extremely confusing path that had her zigzagging and doubling back several times; ending up completely lost, yet without a care in the world. (And completely oblivious to the startled stares and disbelieving, snarled profanities -and in a few cases, screams as she popped her whip across someone's ass- of the ten or so people she raced by, cackling like a madwoman.)

Can't stop. Won't stop.

Amaya was in the prime of his life, or that's what he believed at the time. It felt so good to just run, and run he did with the wind blowing through his hair and between his bare naked legs. There were gasps and profanities all around him as he sprinted in directionless fury down the cobble-stoned roads, though he couldn't be sure what all the commotion was about. He was just out for a morning run, after all, minding his own business.

Oh, how it felt good to run, he thought again as his feet slapped the ground and his legs pumped him forward.

Oh, what a run, indeed. But what was this? As he continued forward, he peered over his shoulder to see the demons chasing him. They were all red in the face like devils without disguise, dashing after them while carrying their flaming torches and pitchforks. Not today, demons, he thought as he turned a brisk corner.

In reality, it was the local authorities he had worked with so often that were trying to stop him from what felt like his endless streaking.

"Stay away! I'm from the mission from the gods!" he cried out just before shoving an unsuspecting merchant out of the way.

Oh, what a run.

Catch me if you can!

Remi couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun on her own. There was something invigorating about the early-morning sun shining down on her, the wind running its ghostly fingers over her as she leapt and soared; she should have been born a gods-damned centauress! The gasps, shrieks and obscenities became louder as she barreled past a blacksmith's stand and continued charging with wild abandon through crowds of people that had been previously milling about. A particularly loud shriek went up as the streaking woman snaked an arm around the waist of a stunning, golden-skinned, six-armed  snake goddess (just a bakerwoman preparing to open shop) and stole a kiss, before darting onward.

She had no idea what was upsetting everyone; she hadn't hurt anyone and was mostly just keeping to herself; she had to prepare herself for the ritual that she was going to perform that morning- and there was no better way to clear her thoughts than to just run.

She had no idea why she'd not bothered to run more often; it was almost as enjoyable as some of her other favorite pastimes, her bare feet striking up a fast drumbeat as she soared onward, her ankles seemingly having grown wings. The fuck's going on?

Just ahead was the stuff of nightmares. She was quickly closing in on an army of fiends; horrifying, diabolic, red-faced demonlords and ladies with tattered wings, brandishing weapons of fire as someone screamed that they were doing the work of the divine. No one had the right to interfere with someone who was doing what the gods willed!

Slipping into the legion, her whip sang as she cracked it at the first demon she drew near to, reveling as her Scourge of Divine Might bit into the demon's face, causing it to shriek in agony and drop to its knees, clutching at its eyes. Another mighty swing had a second fiend on the ground, bleeding from the mouth and nose; a third falling as a foot was planted in the center of its back; the avenging Remi's other foot coming down to stomp on the back of the unsuspecting fool's head as she leapt forward, forcing her way through the authorities, panting furiously as she unknowingly became part of the chase.

Weaving in and out of the crowd, blissfully unaware of the numerous new bruises, blackened eye  and cuts that she'd be feeling eventually. Lowering her head and breaking her way through, landing kicks, punches and whip-lashings as often as she could as she attempted to overtake the Divine worker- and like a ghost, vanishing into one of the off-shooting, meandering alleyways.

What a blissful morning it truly was!

All this running was building up quite the appetite. With that in mind, he ran some more, circled around an alley, and sprinted for his favorite breakfast spot in all of Serendipity (the tavern he had frequented with Red the night before).

Oh. The demons were still after them, but maybe they were just hungry too. Maybe he had pegged them all wrong and they just wanted to spend a little quality time with ol' Amaya; share a drink and knock down some pastries and an assortment of other breakfast items.

Worry not, my friends, as Amaya knew the best spot to fulfill all of your wildest desires and put a little food in your stomach, too. "This way, boys and girls!" he said cheerfully as he bulldozed through an unsuspecting woman and her child on the streets.

There were more gasps, shrieks, profanities that filled the air and if Amaya wasn't so damn hungry, he might stop to see what all of the commotion was about. Hells, he might even lend a hand.

But he was so hungry, and he finally made it to the food palace where he stomped his foot on the ground to bringing his mad dash to a halt. "What's good, everybody?" he announced as he swung the door open and sauntered inside.

Running like hell was not only helping clear Remi's mind (or more accurately, supplying her with a plethora of great ideas, but making her want as much whiskey as anyone would supply so early in the morning. Eating was a distant third. So, she kept pace quite decently with the bounty hunter, charged headlong into a shop two doors from the tavern and came running right back out again, giggling and headed off in the right direction again at last.

Those demons were still right behind them- and now, she was wondering if she'd mistaken their intentions, somehow. Maybe they weren't so bad and were just trying to start a parade. "Don't get lost, now!" She sang out (well, screamed) as she darted past townspeople, not sure why they were shrieking and trying to get away from her just as quickly as possible.

The ruckus wasn't any of her concern and she definitely wouldn't have stopped to help, even if it had been. As her careening charge carried her closer to the awaiting Promised Place, she managed to shove past someone who had been leaving the tavern, delivering a quick elbow to his side and sending him stumbling into the street. Finally, she swaggered on into the establishment, executing what she thought was a courtly bow (which meant Remi was more or less flailing her arms and staring down at her feet for a few moments.)

"Your Queen has arrived!" She announced quite proudly, narrowly avoiding knocking into a couple of tables. After almost sitting in a merchant's lap, she finally found an empty table and perched atop it, ignoring the startled stares, yelled profanities and people lunging from their tables. "Fetch me... thirty bottles of whiskey, five potatoes, seven bowls of stew, ten berry pastries... and a gods-damned kitten!" She shouted at the barmaids, not realizing why they were cringing away from her. (Of course, there was no way she'd ever eat or drink as much as she had just tried to order-- and the nine hells only knew what she wanted with a kitten.)

Oh shit.

The demons had him. THE DEMONS HAD HIM!

He had just finished his morning run when he stepped into the little breakfast eatery (drunken tavern), ready for the meal of his life, when the demons he thought might have been his friends turned against him. One by one they threw themselves at him, tackling him to the ground and knocking over a few tables and chairs in the process.

"That tickles!"

The bounty hunter rolled around, trying to fend the ravenous demons away from him who only seemed to be concerned with mastering the art of the tickle fight. He swung his body back and forth, but to no avail, and soon enough he was on his stomach with arms bound behind his back. Well, that's no way to tickle fight!

Oh, but what kindness. Suddenly he was suspended in the air, the demons his carriage, as they lifted him to give him a proper ride to the store. He didn't need to go to the store, as he was just there, but it was kind of them to offer their services anyway.

The local authorities proceeding in taking Amaya to jail.

Oh, fuck!

The demons had captured the Divine Messenger! Remi wasn't going to stand for that shit-- and there were fiendlords closing in on her as well! (Drunks that the few straggling guards were trying to get past!) All she'd done was finish a run to clear her mind and prepare herself for performing what was to be the greatest ritual of her life and dropped by a magnificent Food Empire for a quick feast- and to guard the Divine. Now, all hell was breaking loose! She would be damned if she was going to let the demons drag a Divine Messenger off to the depths of the Nine Hells!

With a vicious, resounding battlecry (that was nothing more than a shriek of "Fuck all of you!") the Divine Champion of Justice was on her feet in an instant, whip cracking through the air, sending a few patrons' bottles and tankards crashing to the ground. (It was a glorious roar of applause, as far as she could tell.) Trusty shield in one hand (a chair) and Scourge of Retribution setting heads to rolling (upsetting chairs and tables, smacking a few patrons across the faces or asses in all actuality) she set off behind the guards, whip lashing at their ankles and backs, cracking a few across the backs of their heads or helmets. (And it wasn't dawning on her at all that if they caught her, she'd be imprisoned for numerous charges.)

Darting in and out of alleys, weaving between people and knocking them aside with her shield (chair), the healer kept flanking the guards; assaulting any of them that drew too close to her before flitting off again, maintaining  a half-assed decent flanking maneuver; though she was starting to get tired from all the running, there was no way that she was going to let the demons win!

If she couldn't get them to drop the bounty hunter (which was a feat she probably couldn't pull off, no matter what her efforts were) then she would just have to stage a dungeon rescue (somehow pull off a jailbreak) before she was captured for trying to ensure that justice reigned.

Amaya was suspended in air, sitting atop a golden throat and being carried by his loyal subjects like some sort of divine god. It's good to be King, he thought, as they hoisted him up and through the crowds, bringing him to his castle to get a much needed rest. In reality, he was carelessly carried and bound by the guards, his head and feet slapping a passerby or an alley wall as they pulled him away from the crowds and into the prison.

"You will all be rewarded handsomely for this," he said fluently as they moved through the crowd, though all they heard was "Yerallreworkedforhandsominities" in a slurred babble.

"For bringing me to my castle, I reward all of you with wives, food, and drink! You'll never go hungry or dry again! Praise be to Thanatos!"

"For bring cwastile, rewardsandtits, kingcommandsyerthantos."

"This is the time of now! Let us join together in arms to make this world a place for everyone, not just the upper class! Let there be a drink in every hand and a mouth on every cock! WE. ARE. MEN! Don't let them tell you that it cannot be done! We fight, we conquer! We are Thanatos!"

"Aaaaaaaghhhhrawrr! Fiiiiiighhhtuuuuuuunt!"

Shortly after what was the speech of Amaya's life, his troops cheered and praised him as they delicately placed him on his throne of gold (they threw him into his prison cell and slammed the door closed).

It was good to be King.

Remi was starting to grow tired from all the running and chasing; though she chalked that up to be the work of a particularly nefarious mage that was manipulating the air and earth as she continued flanking and darting around the guards; shoving her way through crowds and assaulting the odd passerbies, making her whip sing. However, in reality, she was stagger-running after the guards, screaming "battle cries" that sounded something more or less like "Fucking divinefight headswillrolljustice-shit!" 

Her own army of Valkyries and paladins rode with her; radiant champions of righteousness on the quest to rescue the divine from his captors (they were just peasants and merchants milling along, curious about what the fuck was going on and not understanding exactly what they were watching.) "This is our greatest hour! Rally yourselves, we must defeat these demons and free the divine messenger! I believe we're tracking them to their stronghold; we'll flush them out and kill them there!" That was the uplifting cry she tried to give. Unfortunately, it actually came out as: "This-is-hours! Dungeonkill! Sunprince demons twinklefwaaargh wurrf!"

In her mind, she and her "army" were doing an incredible job of infiltrating the "dungeon" as Amaya was carried into the prison; silent, stealthy and utilizing strange, forbidden magic to breach the barriers and enter the ancient, crumbling dungeon where forgotten deities were being kept as slaves.  Nevertheless, the guards had not bothered to turn and capture her, simply because she was doing a remarkable job of continuously incriminating herself and following them straight into the waiting prison.


Righteous fury continuing to build as she charged headlong into the prison, Remi quickly set about deactivating the awaiting traps (rattling a few other prisoners' cell bars, kicking over a guard's desk and running around the prison in circles, beating her chair against the building's walls and making a wonderful mess.) "We must get the keys and find the chamber the Divine Emperor is being kept in! Many of you will die, but our victory will be amazing! I need you now, as we make our final stand!" What a damn shame she didn't say any of that. The final "rallying cry" was, in actuality, screeched as: "I hear it'samazing; Emperordie chamber keys-keys-keys need victoraaaaagh!"

Her Scourge of Righteousness sang magnificently as she began searching for the keys; slaying her adversaries as they attacked in droves. As reality would have it, she was staggering around, flailing and flicking her whip ineffectively, trying to figure out what keys might have even looked like. The guards were trying to stay out of her way, not out of fear, but simply dumbfounded by her antics and waiting for her to wear herself out so she could be locked up. They'd heard of people trying to break out of prison, but never before had anyone broken in to scream incoherently, destroy things and be an incomprehensible nuisance.

"Today, my friends. Today is the day. Today is the day you have left your families, left your women, left your homes as boys, only to return as men. I will not lie to you, not all of us will make it back, but no one, not a one of you, will be forgotten. A soldier's greatest mission in life is to protect the ones he loves, and I will be damned if that is not what we are doing today. They hear us! They fear us! Let the force of our swords, the pounding of our shields, the roars of our battle cries strike fear in the hearts of every Serian there is! They hear us! They fear us! Serendipity awaits, and they do not like what they know is coming! My brothers, my sisters, my family and friends, my children: you will known as the strongest men - greater than the gods themselves! Now is the time, lift your weapon and charge the gates!"

"Today, my frides.n toyday is the day. YARRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Will not lie to yhou, noit uall sof us will back, but forgate. a iolse'rds grectaest mission iys comning! brothels and sinners, youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu gods themselves! Charcoal time, yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah! "

The king had spoken, and he closed his eyes in triumph, listening to the cheers and applause from his loyal subjects before resting his head on the divine pillow.


"What the fuck did he just say?" one of the guards asked, trying not to laugh.

"Who knows," another answered as he watched the bounty hunter slip into unconsciousness and nearly crack his skull on the stone floor.

---

[OOC: Laughing my ass off at this thread]

The Divine Emperor was speaking, delivering a rousing, resounding speech even while being held captive by the Infernal Forces! She would not have been the Champion of Justice if she hadn't given her full attention to that speech, the call that only served to breathe life anew into her soldiers, but caused their voices to lift in assent, applauding and stomping their feet as they renewed their efforts to aid her in the search for The Thing That Opens Enchanted Locks. "We have faced many difficulties along our journey, my Divine Emperor of the Sun! If my words reach you now, know that we are here to rescue you from your Infernal tormentors! Their heads will be on our pikes before noon! By last light, we will all return home to a feast and grand celebration, in your honor!"

"Sunjourneys, dear Emperor-cult-eggs! Words-of-food yaaaarghle ninerums! Fuck-celestbraten, WE BURN NOON PIKES! Lastnightwe urrrrgh varkie-grand HEADS!" Was the strange tangle of syllables that were bellowed at the top of her lungs.

The Divine Champion had delivered her message, her shield wrenched out of her hand by one of the infernal beings (she flung her chair as hard as she could, directly into the face of a guard that dared try to approach her.) Seeing something that looked like it could be of use, she made a mad dash across the prison, "Now is the time! I have the necessary artifact!" It was nothing more than: "TIME! Waaaah yeaaaaaaaah FOR!" She snatched the cell keys from the peg they hung on (it was not keys- she had grabbed a broom) whirled and prepared to do battle with the greatest adversary she had ever faced...

Opening her mouth to shriek profanities in the face of the Demonlord, Remi began to feel the horrible pains of a curse that had been cast upon her: stomach roiling, she staggered in circles, whip flicking uselessly as her eyes began to water. Lunging forward, her mouth opened to release a desperate cry to warn her "troops" of their impending disaster: "Fnnnnarfgh...Ohfuck...cardlenar-dyingshit-not fair!" And unleashed The Power of The Sun Emperor's Champion upon the deadly Demonlord...

Lurching three steps forward, her mouth opened and shut a few times, opened again and she vomited bile and booze all over one of the poor, unsuspecting guards, twirled in a circle like a dog trying to find a comfortable place to lay down and stumbled backward. Ankles tangling in a most spectacular fashion, she tripped over her own feet, wobbled a bit and her face met the floor with a thud A giggling fit, followed up by a whining: "Stoplickingmyface!" Revealed that she wasn't dead, or unconscious. She'd just end up with a headache and more bruises. Probably.


"What the fuck's going on? She understood what he was saying?" One of the guards laughed in disbelief.
"Apparently, some drunkards can create their own language."
'What was she doing, anyway?"
"Breaking in, of course."
"What should we do with her?"
"Lock her up. Those two have a long list of crimes to atone for."
"How long have we been looking for them?"
"Just one night."
"Oh, gods, I don't want to know what they've done."

________________________________________
((HAHA I know~! X3 Talk about a perfect match!))

It was the greatest dream anyone could have. The bounty hunter found himself back in his homeland of Serendipity, and the Brotherhood had fallen. He relished with each kill, striking down all of his old comrades that betrayed him and left him for dead.

Did he use a sword like they did him? No, of course not. That would be too easy. He used his fists like a real man would. The sound of their bones breaking under his knuckles was enough to make anyone smile, so his own was broad and full of purpose.

The crowds of Arca cheered, the women swooned, and the authority pardoned him of all of his crimes.

"Amaya, drinks are on me," the bounty hunter's new best friend said. "And fuck my sister while you're at it!"

"Hi there, bounty hunter," the unnamed sister, obviously the most stunning woman on the Earth itself, chimed in.

It was the greatest dream anyone could have.


Oh.

Oh fuck.

It was just a dream.

Oh again.

Oh fuck again.

What a fucking headache.

Amaya awoke in his jail cell, completely naked, head pounding, and the overall feeling of just wanting to kill himself and be done with it.

There was nothing better than swimming on the black seas of oblivion, without a care in the world; the deep, dreamless sleep of one who actually sleeps very little. Surrounded by the dark, velvety expanses of nothingness that just stretched for eternity in every direction. Nothing pressing to do, nowhere of importance to go- and all the time in the world to get it done in. Unfortunately, all pleasant things came to an end, far sooner than they should have.

Remi stirred, slurring profanities as she rolled over, one arm draping over her closed eyes. Where am I this time? Reaching out to grab a nonexistant blanket at the sudden absence of warmth in the bed, she realized that the bed itself was too cold, too hard- and that it wasn't even a pile of straw or the boards of a ship's floor.

Shit! Her everything hurt; she couldn't pinpoint what was worse- and wasn't about to try. It had to be one fuck of a good night. As her eyes opened, she rolled to her knees and peered about in confusion. She was completely unarmed, without any of her healing herbs and naked, feeling as though an army of orcs had tried their best to tear her to shreds. In a cell and believing she must have accomplished... well, something. Of course, the only reasonable thing to do  now was try to get out. She'd figure out what to do after that.

Lying never hurt a damn thing and it's worked maybe one or two times before! Besides, it was always the best idea to start with the simplest excuses and work toward actually breaking out if all else failed. "Guards!" She tried to summon her jailers forth, using her most "authoritative voice." (A shame it was anything but commanding.)  "I need help, you have to let me out! You have no idea what my family will do to you if they find out!" Even through that whimper, she was already looking around, trying to see if she could figure out where anything of use might have been- and if it would have even been possible to attempt a jailbreak at all.

It was a hangover. A special kind of hangover, but not something he wasn't use to. "Fuck me," he groaned before scrambling up to his feet.

Whoa boy.

Perhaps that was a little too fast, he thought as the room started spinning and he had a sudden urge to puke everything he'd ingested in the past week. He bit his tongue and swallowed back that urge just enough for his vision to focus and land on the guards.

"Ned, what the fuck?" he asked, walking up to the cell's bars. "You couldn't at least give me some clothes to wear? Gets pretty cold in here, if you haven't noticed."

The guard Amaya addressed smirk and pointed over to the corner of his cell. "Over there," he said with an amused curl on his lips.

Finding the clothes, Amaya quickly (his definition of quick has he battled the temptation of the sweet release of death) slipped into them before returning to the bars. "Sorry for causing such a fuss," Amaya smirked. "Can't ya just let me out for old time's sake? After all the criminals I've brought ya?"

Ned laughed hard before nodding. "I guess we owe you one," he agreed before unlocking his cell. "Just be careful. We won't be so lenient next time."

"Sure thing," he replied before walking back out into the open.

I can't believe that worked.

"What's that sound?" the bounty hunter asked, hearing the clamoring and yelling of a woman's voice nearby. His eyes darted until they found Remi, and a small, triumphant smile formed onto his lips.

"Your accomplice," Ned said sharply. "Want us to let her out too?"

Amaya went to speak, but stopped. He scratched the back of his head before shrugging. "Never seen her before in my life," he lied. "Probably would've been one of my bounties anyway. Let her rot."

As the bounty hunter made his way to the exit, he looked over at the woman and gave her a little wink before he was out of the door.

It was the sort of hangover that Remi was just a little too accustomed to- the sort that she would have cured easily, if she had her herbs and sedatives on hand; the kind that she knew regular old sleep and something to eat would not get rid of; only certain plants- or time itself. Of course, it would only intensify for several hours before abating, if left untreated. And unfortunately, it seemed like she'd be spending a few hours dealing with the hellish pain.

Especially since the guards she tried to call over simply laughed and shook their heads. They'd dealt with enough drunkards posing as nobles to know a lie when they heard another one.

Gods damn all of you! She seethed silently, watching Amaya's release; if looks could kill, she would have slain him ten times over. While the healer wouldn't have expected the ass to talk them into unlocking her door as well, it was a damn shame that she hadn't had the real chance to knock him around a little bit.

As soon as I'm out, I'm going to fucking kill you. For no reason other than her being irrationally pissed off and wanting to pound something or someone into oblivion- and who better than her "rival" to slap around? She'd be damned if she could remember why they were rivals anyway, considering that their jobs did not coinside.

"I don't give a fuck," She smirked as Amaya left. It didn't dawn on her just yet that she'd probably not be permitted to ply her trade here anymore, for a very long time. "Hey, Ned!" She called out to the guard the bounty hunter had spoken to, her voice as sweet as wasp's honey, "You might want to be aware that he's very ill- and that the ailment can spread very quickly." That, of course, was another lie, but one that she delivered sincerely enough (maybe.) "I could fix it -I'm a healer, you see- but there's the little issue of me still being here."