naked and i n v i s i b l e . . .

[Anonymous]

n a k e d and i n v i s i b l e . . . that’s how Riva Lesnikova felt as she moved through the bleak womb of darkness the village provided. Dusk had been welcomed with open arms. From the crypts, she had watched the sky die and the color melt away as she had done since the beginning. At the thought, she raised her long slender fingers to press upon two small scars at the curve of her neck. The memories of her inauguration in to the world of the undead were always alive in her mind. Lurking just below the tamed and silent surface, but it would never be allowed to break through the armor and cause ripples. Riva had control over it and with each passing year, decade, century and millennium she had willed away much of the emotion that had tormented her already vexed soul.

She moved onward. Riva had nowhere to go, it was simply that she wanted to be anywhere then where she was. Riva was a ghost. A pale beauty with endless curves and a face like a fallen angel. She had the mouth of a Poet, lips that were made to whisper forgotten languages and eyes of pure unadulterated blue that held the trill of enigmatic danger. She looked like a cross between a succubus and an Amazonian princess. But she could really never compare to either. She was little more then a lost soul working the only talent she had.

This was all new. Whatever she had done; had brought her to this world. This unknown existence seemed to be where she would make her new life. And rapidly she found herself rather alone as she stood silently in the square of the village. Those unimaginable blues stalked over the decaying stone that made up the buildings. It was a place to start. Now to find the heart of the night, fingers tugged the black leather hood of the trench coat she wore over her crown before she ingresses towards the lights and sounds of an all hours pub. Lingering only for a moment at the opening, she eyed the contents and moved in. She picked a corner that seemed to be revolted by the light of the candles posted on pillars. Settling, she eyed the waitress that wondered over. Mouthed in heavy Russian, vodka, clean before turning her attention to the crowd. Now to find someone looking for revenge and willing to pay for it…

[Goldie]

With the grace of many years, Petaekka walked into the tavern.  The purse she had snitched that morning had been emptied and a few silver coins from the bag had been replaced into her own satchel at her hip.  A morning that profitable definately deserved a reward and a pint of ale was definately what the doctor ordered.

She knew almost the moment that she entered that she was about to get more than she bargined for by the sly glances the old, fat, fools gave her.  Their twisted grins held more meaning than any words possibly could, but she didn't care.  It wasn't the first time a man had underestimated her and it most certainly wouldn't be the last.  In the other corner she saw someone that reaked thief from the pipe in his hand that looked like it cost more than his entire attire, along with the four empty mugs of ale that sat before him, a fifth held in his hand.  It was he who she was most afraid of.  When a thief met another thief there were no rules of combat that they had to follow.  Double checking to make sure her dagger was still attatched to her belt, but hidden from view, Peta sat at the bar, pushing away a hand that reached out to her.

"Not int'rested" she snapped.  Better to let them know where she stood before anything else might happen.  Not saything that just her words would stop someone determined enough; that was what her blade was for.

"Come here often?" a voice asked from behind her.  Twirling her stool around she was about to tell him off worse than the first man, but his attire and the heavy purse by his side stopped her words.  Immediately she clouded her eyes with complete innocence and shook her head vigorously.

"No, sir." she masked her heavy street accent, giving herself a more noble appearance, "and I would not come in here if I had somewhere else to go!" she hurried on like a scared prissy girl who, although she had run away, was still living by the higher standards.  The noble man sat down next to her and ordered two drinks.  Some hot tea "for the Lady" and a brandy for himself.

"What is your name?" he asked pleasantly, sipping his drink with care.  Stirring the tea absently she looked up and then quickly back down at her cup.  This was too easy.  No matter how many times they were warned, nobles lived by there own rules and was screwed over by them as well.

"Emilia" she muttered, "Emilia Roselyn" and how many times had she used that cover name?  Haha, it worked every time.

"Well, Emilia Roselyn.  What are you doing in the middle of Adela, in a tavern no less?  This surely isn't a place a young lady such as youself should be.  And what are these clothes you have donned?"

"My mother and father...they were going to have me marry and wicked, wicked man...but they would not listen to me when I told them...so I ran away."  The conversation continued much like this, the noble man "Endwar" giving her advice on how to talk to her parents and the like.  As time passed he stood and paid the bar tender before turning to Petaekka and offering her to come and stay with his family for the night.  Polietly refusing she stood and curtsied like a "good little girl" and the man shook her hand.  When he turned to leave her fingers danced expertly across his belt and in seconds the small purse was clasped tightly in her hand.  Oh what a wonderful, wonderful day this was!

[Anonymous]

Tiring of staying outside on the barrel, the cat stood and jumped to the ground, blue-green eyes fixed on the tavern door nearby. When the next customer opened the door, she streaked across the ground, making it inside just before the heavy door swung shut. Lifting a paw and straightening a few strands of fur that had become mussed in her rush, the cat remained in the path of the door, forcing people to move around her instead of moving away from them. One man was not feeling accommodating to conceited feline airs, roughly nudging her aside with the heavy toe of his boot. Half-crouching, the cat stared upwards, eyes narrowed to slits, teeth bared as she hissed loudly. After that though, she did flounce off to another area of the tavern, seeking a more dimly lit area where she could salve her wounded pride.

â€?Stupid man. Wouldna ha’ tried kickin’ me had I been in my regular shape. Would ha’ tried somethin’ else though, I’d bet. I should ha’ done more than hissed at ye.â€?  The shapeshifter’s thoughts continued to run along a similar vein as she jumped up to the surface of a table, casting a quick glance over the two females seated there, then settling down on her belly. She was in no mood to cozen up to someone right now, but perhaps they had contacts that would be of use to her, contacts that might be able to be overheard.

Even if they said nothing helpful to her, females in general seemed to be less disposed toward throwing things and afflicting bodily harm on cats than did the male population. Still, she would keep a wary eye on the duo, making sure they didn’t offer any danger to her small, furry self.

[Anonymous]

a g e n t s of the b l a c k night were everywhere. Predators and the prey. To Riva everyone wore a mask. A persona of what they could have been to cover what they hid. The facades she found, were pitiful and pathatic. Humanoids were not as clever as they truely thought themselves to be really. She simply stared out in to the growing crowd. There seemed to be cons everywhere. Take for example the first female that wandered in to the dank joint. The obvious clothing, demeanor and overall attitude of her screamed street miscreant. The change to noble had flaws and holes big enough to fit the moon within it. But it didn't matter. Humanoids would play their just like the actors of the Rome days with their masks.

As the male joined the female, Riva merely shifted to gaze at the clear liquid infront of her. The dance of male and female was so predictable. They both were running on instinct, nothing better then animals. The male, with his easily clouded judgement and the need to be alpha male in the join. Then the female, with her fake swooning and morals. Humanoids were nothing but programed animals. She was slowly becoming disinterested with her surroundings. Riva was a hunter. The trill, excitement and need were what was programed in her. She had once been told she was like a panther, not only because she wore black attire but because of the way she moved. She seemed to stalk her prey in the night; waiting till the moment it stumbled and made a mistake then it was all over. Even before they had realized it. She had seen death creep in to the eyes of her victims far more times then she could remember. The eyes always die first.

Attention shifted to the feline that perched near her. Thin black brow edged upward in judgement as errie blues stayed trained on her before she slowly shoved over the untouched viscous liquid towards it. She whispered something in gaelic, a murmured spell of protection. Though she wasn't sure why it had come out in the lauguage, she chose not to dwell on her slight feeling of superstition with the sight of a cat. Adjusting her lean body once more, she shifted for comfort on the wooden bench. For a moment she allowed her vision back to the duo that were speaking in mild and lazy interest waiting to how the con turned out; some reason rooting for thief.

[Goldie]

With swift and silent fingers the belt disappeared into her boot with practiced movements that were so clean no one would notice that she had taken the belt, or even that she had it on her person if they suspected her.  With high spirits she turned back to the bar and slid back into her seat realizing as she pushed her undrunk tea away that she was being watched.  But she wasn't being watched by thief she had seen earlier, rather a hooded person she had missed when she walked in.  Possibly because the corner that the figure sat in had very little light, and the black cloak kept her blended from view.

Crinkling her brows slightly she tapped the countertop for the bar tender.

"Want 'nother tea, missy?" he asked, words laced with sarcasm.

"Like, 'ell" she retorted, falling back into her normal vernacular.  It was so much better when she could steal and still be herself, but then she wouldn't be so profitable.  People were stupid, and she took advantage of it, "Ge' me a pint from tha' keg ya got las' week.  Ah've 'ad a rough enough day as is tah be drinkin' damned tea."

When the mug was brought out, Petaekka tried to busy herself in her drink but the figure from the corne kept drawing her gaze.  Damn new people...ain't never seen a girl in a tavern before who wasn't a whore did they?

Finally she couldn't take it anymore and walked over, her blade close at hand incase she found herself in a position she couldn't weasel out of without some weapon.  Stopping before the table she slid into the seat opposite of the staring person and rested her hands delicately on the table as if she were sitting with an old friend and they were just about to catch up on the happenings of life.

"Whatcha starin' for?" she asked pleasently.

[Anonymous]

the m a s k of s e l f . . . Her trainer had once told her to think of humans as nothing more then chemicals and instinct. That they were no better then the animals they hunted themselves. Somehow for more then a decade that had eased what notions she had against her training, her purpose. As a child, she knew what she was meant for. She knew nothing other then her work. She was treated as the ultimate soldier. With an IQ at genius levels, she could achieve the government’s highest standards. Plotting an insurgence that would take a team more then a month to plan, she could do in little more then twenty-four hours. Her body was toned and her senses heightened for the one simple reason, to kill.

That had all changed, one fated day. He was her target’s bodyguard; she had by passed the security in under five seconds and was in the bedroom of the target. No mistakes were made; the assassination was clean up to the last second. Only her luck seemed to change as she stepped away from the bed only to back in to the waiting arms of his. The memory of how his hot breath swirled on to her neck, the sudden moist feeling, the shudder and the prick of pain then release. Freedom for her to take; only a step was made before the gut wrenching pain hit, it felt as though acid was running through her veins eating away at her body and soul. She stumbled around for what seemed like hours to peer at the monster behind her. The only glimpse of a face before the world faded to black. When she awoke, the transformation was complete and she was shifted in to a new world. Now she would not only work in the darkness, but now would live in its dank gloom. She had asked him once why, but he had simply placed a soft kiss on her lips and smiled then returned her question with why not. His reasons were his own and he understood her need to know.

The female’s question broke her from the memories that had clouded her perception. A slim arched brow lifted once more, as it was obvious that she was collecting the right words. Plump crimson-laced lips curved in a rather all-knowing smile before they parted to allow the soothing, Russian enriched vocals to escape. “The game was on. I simply was interested in who would leave the winner and who would leave with their pockets a few hundred pieces lighter. I see I was correct after all.â€? Long, creamy fingers reached to her cloaks hood and pulled it away from her cadaverous features settling in for the obvious conversation. Her pallid blues traveled back to the feline on the table before back towards the guest at her table. An idle finger found its way to the animal, and softly stroked it under the chin then cheek. In her human days, she had found the cat species cognate to herself. And had actually owned one in her previous life. Noticing the silence that had grown, she spoke again. “I’m Riva Lesnikova. A…â€? â€" Pausing for no more then a second she decided against revealing herself. â€" “Traveler. I have found myself in this world only a night ago.â€? She would leave it at that, for now.

[Anonymous]

Startled by the gaelic phrases, the cat blinked, then peered suspiciously at the glass of clear alcohol proffered, blue-green eyes traveling back up to the thin face above. Thankful for the relatively emotionless features of a cat, Keturah’s thoughts whirled, surprised by hearing a language she’d not expected here. Especially spoken by one who was patently not of celtic origin. As the second female strolled over and seated herself, the cat glanced over, eyes wide in the cute ragdoll face that had opened so many doors to her before. Sitting up, she examined a paw, daintily curling her tail across her feet.

Obligingly tilting her head slightly, she pressed lightly against the rubbing finger, faint purring coloring the air. The verbal sparring game of introductions had begun; the goal to find out information about the stranger sitting across from you without saying enough about yourself to get into you trouble. An enjoyable pasttime, to be sure, but sometimes, one learned just as much -if not more- by employing more discreet methods of observation. A purring cat was something that most never though twice about; as long as she remembered to act as a cat should and not show too much interest in things a feline would supposedly not understand.

So, this white lady was Riva Lesnikova. A suitably noble sounding name, if she wasn’t quite what one expected from an upper-class personage. But then, there were any number of explanations for the name, not least of which was the distinct possibility that it was assumed. But there was also an equal chance that it was not, and that she may have useful contacts.

Once again, her gaze was directed toward the younger female that had sauntered over, her expression the slightly bored, mostly superior countenance worn by even the smallest member of the feline race. Curiosity was perfectly fine; everyone knew there was nothing as curious as a cat.

[Goldie]

Glancing at the cat, the thief immediately lost interest and turned her attention back to the woman.  Riva...well that certainly wasn't a name you heard everyday and she didn't believe the traveler bit for a moment, expecially if she had only been here for a night.  pfft, Petaekka lied for a living and could smell a lie when she was fed it.

"Oh." she replied, acting like she believed every word, "An' Ah'm glad tha' Ah didn' dis'ppoint ya." she flashed a smile and continued, "Ya must've been watchin' fer a long time, or jus' good at watchin' ta see somethin' tha' wasn' even there."  Not many people knew her to be a thief, and she would rather keep it that way.  Frankly, it surprised her that someone had been that interested in her to see the theft when most people overlooked her for a twelve year old girl because of her height.

"Mah name's Taek" she offered.  It was vague enough that no one would know who Riva was talking about if she turned her in because most people knew her as Peta, or Petaekka, but it wasn't necessarily a lie.  She was just being cautious.  Meeting people in a pub who saw you stealing wasn't always a turn for worse, but it was a pretty sure thing.

"Whatcha doin' in Adela, Riva?"

[Goldie]

ooc:  it's been quite a few months, so I just wanted to drop a line in case you do come back that I've moved Peta on!  ;_;