Never Trust a Pixie (Juno)

[Anonymous]

"Oh, bother. Now he's lost an ear." The horse that Miraj reanimated two weeks ago was falling apart at the seams: already it had lost its tailbone, a kneecap, most of its mane and tail hairs, and a handful of teeth. And now an ear. The horse's hide was sloughing off its bones in tattered, malodorous strips, and its eyes had long since rotted away, leaving behind two gaping, fly-infested pits. It was not a pretty sight. Or smell, for that matter.

As if sensing his thoughts, the horse let rip a seismic belch. Miraj could swear he felt the earth beneath him shudder. He buried his nose in his elbow and blinked acidic tears from his eyes. "Sweet Inima," he gasped, "Someone kill me."

"I would, but then where would I be?" came a voice from somewhere inside his saddlebag. A pink muzzle poked out from beneath the leather flap, whiskers twitching. A moment later the creature was scampering up onto Miraj's shoulder, frowning as only a lemur can. It crouched there, curling its ringed tail around Miraj's neck to anchor itself in place. "Ugh! It smells like cat piss out here," it complained.

"Language, Achashverosh," Miraj reprimanded. "You know I hate it when you swear." Yes, just ignore the fact that your mount it rotting out from beneath you. You're a necromancer; you've seen worse.

Normally, it wouldn't have been a problem. Miraj rarely reanimated a beast of burden for more than a few days, just long enough to get him from point A to point B. But then, he hadn't counted on getting lost in this damned forest.

That'd teach him never to take directions from a pixie. Damn things couldn't tell their asses from a pancake, so what on earth made him think he could rely on their sense of direction? He'd set out from Serendipity a week ago, planning to arrive in Adela no more than four days later. It had been fourteen days, now, and he was no closer to Adela than he was when he first left the city.

Miraj was on the verge retracing his steps and giving that pixie a piece of his mind when he heard the distant chuckle of running water. "Do you hear that? The Goddess smiles down on us today, Achash," he said. "The water should lead us to a settlement of some sort." He hoped. It was at times like these Miraj wished he'd paid more attention to Arsalan's cartography lessons. For all he knew, they could be all the way in Hyoite by now.

The lemur looked like it was about to say something snarky, but thought the better of it. It clung to its master's shoulder, its fur puffed up against the wind, muttering unhappily under its breath. "Sure. But if we come across another traveller, we are so stealing his horse."

[Anonymous]

At first the idea of traveling from his jungle home to the northern stretches of tundra and back had seemed a fantastic one, a diversion from his everyday life that had seemed so exciting. Now, it just wasn't. It was no fun seeing trees when he woke, trees while he walked, and trees while he made camp. Trees, trees, trees..."Fuckin' trees," Julian muttered.  Perhaps it hadn't been the brightest idea, but who could blame him for wanting to see what the world had to offer?

It'd been so long since he'd traveled that the length of his planned journey had not been realized until he'd hit the trails of the forest, the infamous Draconi Forest. Now he was just bored, his days filled with...trees. He'd lost count of how many streams he'd encountered and he was irritated. He'd left the jungle, that seemingly endless stretch of trees, only to find himself in yet another seemingly endless stretch of trees. Although he did find great comfort in having trees around himself, it just was not exciting. At all. "Who could live in such a place?" he wondered aloud, a little irritated and momentarily forgetting that he, too, lived in among trees.

Julian trudged along through midday and into the afternoon. After so long he just couldn't deal with the musk clinging to him. Perhaps it was just in his nature, but he had to take a bath now. Grimacing, he followed his nose until he reached yet another stream and then followed that stream until it led him to a pool. Setting down his pack on the bank, he immediately stripped himself naked, grabbed a bar of soap from his pack, and dove in.

Shuddering with delight as water splashed against skin, Julian surfaced and began scrubbing vigorously. His only goal was to smell nice again, but he couldn't help that overpowering stench of death clinging to the air. "Ugh. Yuck, something had to just die around here, eh?"

[Anonymous]

As soon as Miraj heard the splash, he was on guard. The Draconi forest was plagued with hunters, brigands and outlaws -- not to mention bears, wolves, and other unfriendly beasties -- and just because Miraj hadn't run into any so far didn't mean they weren't out there. He made eye contact with his familiar; without waiting for the command, Achashverosh threw himself into the air above Miraj's shoulder. It took less than a second for the demon to shed his lemur form and become a rather unimpressive-looking sparrow. The bird darted through the foliage and vanished somewhere in the greenery ahead, its tiny wings furiously pumping the air.

A moment later, Miraj heard a single chirrup -- the signal that he and Achash had agreed meant "one man" -- and a second, longer warble -- which meant that the man was unarmed and unmounted. What's a lone, unarmed traveler be doing in the middle of this goddess-forsaken forest? he wondered. As silently as he could manage, he slid from the horse's saddle -- the foliage got thicker before it thinned out at the river's bank, and leading a horse, even an undead one, through that mess of thorns and brambles would be more trouble than it was worth. So he tied the beast to the trunk of the sturdiest maple he could find, and ventured forth on foot.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of the scene that greeted him, on the other side of that wall of tangled growth. There was a stream all right, and sure enough, submerged in a pool at its terminus was an unarmed man. A naked, unarmed man. A gorgeous, bronze-haired, naked hunk of an unarmed man. Miraj couldn't help it -- he sort of half-giggled, half-coughed into his closed fist. He imagined this is what boys felt like when they stumbled upon an older sibling doing something naughty; once you got over the initial embarrassment, it was actually kind of hilarious.

[Anonymous]

He'd seen the sparrow fly past him, but he'd thought nothing of it. It was a forest, after all, with plenty of animals from all sorts of species. Listening to the bird's noises, he still thought nothing of it, unable to identify it as anything other than what it appeared to be while in his human form. That horrible stench? It was getting worse. Snorting a little, he whipped his head around as he tried to identify the source of such a terrible thing. "Gods, what is that?" he muttered.

Then he heard some noise coming from the brush. Turning sharply, Julian stopped what he was doing and stared until he saw another being appear. Immediately, he growled, though only softly in the back of his throat, his manners good enough to keep his teeth covered as a human as it only made him look absurdly silly to "bare" his teeth at someone while his fangs remained unmanifested. Staring at Miraj, he went back and forth for a long, silent moment, unable to immediately determine the sex of the one who'd disrupted his bath. Ah, what a pretty young man, he thought, his mouth cracking into a wide grin, eyes sparkling.

It didn't bother him that he was naked, he didn't care that much about others seeing him and besides, he knew he was fairly easy on the eyes. Chuckling at the other's giggling cough, he patted the surface of the water with his free hand as he took a few steps closer to Miraj. "My, my...you startled me. What's a young one like you doing out here, alone?"

[Anonymous]

Miraj couldn't stop himself: he laughed. Part of him was amused, part of him embarrassed, and the rest of him was amazed that the man didn't share his embarrassment -- indeed, the stranger looked as comfortable as a man who habitually struts naked in front of thousands of watching eyes.

Miraj liked clothes. It wasn't just his upbringing that stressed the importance of elegant dress, though certainly that had been drilled into him since the moment he could speak. It was just that, without clothing, Miraj felt... well... naked. And not just in the literal sense. Clothing was a way to flaunt status, taste, and upbringing -- without it, how could anyone tell the commoners from the upper crust? Even when traveling, Miraj made sure to wear some token of his elevated social status; a silver brooch fashioned in the likeness of a spindly sea serpent, or a pair of velvel gloves chased in gold.  He glanced at the pile of clothes sitting on the bank. Beyond the fact that this man had obviously been traveling for quite some time (if the amount dirt coating the fabric was anything to judge by), he could glean little of the man's social status.

He didn't much like the way the stranger addressed him (Young one? Ha! As if he weren't a skilled necromancer at the height of Thanati scholarship!), but Miraj was used to being underestimated. Some of the time, he worked that to his advantage; most of the time, though, it peeved the holy hell out of him. This was one of those latter times. "Do us both a favor, sir, and worry about your own self first. Unarmed, alone, naked as your name-day... tell me, sir, if I wanted to rob you silly, would anything have stopped me?"

[Anonymous]

Indeed, the boy dressed well. Julian had little need for expensive things as he technically didn't need anything that humans needed. "Heh." He laughed softly, sizing him up from his spot in the water. He had no knowledge of this other man, but he deemed himself quite a catch; he was the king of his own little world. Wondering what else Miraj had under his clothing, if he had fancy underwear too, Julian busted out laughing.

"You? You could rob me? I'd like to see that... And what of my nakedness? Are you a prude, young man?" He was sneering now, his hands returning to his task of washing his body as he stared up at Miraj. Oh, he found this one particularly amusing. Generally, people underestimated him as a "pretty boy", but most were not so bold as to openly say such things as this one was. Of course, they had no audience. "Oh, believe me," he said, grin widening. "I am far from unarmed, your eyes must be failing you, hm? Poor boy, so young...so helpless at such an important age." Now his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

It was so fun to mess with the hotheads, they could get so riled up. Julian pinned his hopes upon this man as well. "Let's cut the chit-chat, eh? All you need to know is that I have no need to worry about you...what's your name, hm?"

[Anonymous]

A prude? The thought was so preposterous that Miraj might have laughed again, if he weren't so damned furious. Back in Thanati, he had earned the dubious distinction of being one of the more... unrestrained servants of the goddess Inima -- and though no one dared accuse him outright, almost everyone he knew suspected him of engaging in unwholesome relationships with other men. It was part of the reason why he preferred the more open-minded Serendipity to the religious zealotry of Thanatos -- that, and the fact that he was wanted by the Thanati authorities for murder most foul.

He didn't want to think about that, though. He surreptitiously scanned the leaves overhead for any sign of a certain sparrow, but the bird had vanished, replaced by a salamander that slowly wended its way down the branch of a nearby willow. There was a hollow plunk as the salamander let himself drop into the pool. No doubt Achasverosh was a fish by now.

Satisfied that his familiar had his back in case things got... nasty, Miraj returned his attention to the stranger. Furious though he was, he wasn't about to let this arrogant stranger see any sign of weakness. So he put on a brave face, swept into a well-practiced bow, and flashed the most charming smile he could muster, given the circumstances. "My name," he announced loftily, "is Miraj al-Shaharyar, of Thanatos. Setting aside your obvious misconceptions about my own ability to defend myself, what do you mean you are far from unarmed? Indeed, I see no weapons on you. I see nothing much on you at all." He spoke like one who was used to being listened to; arrogant, bombastic, with impeccable pronunciation and an almost theatrical flourish to his every word. Miraj had always believed that if he was going to speak, he might as well do it with style.

[Anonymous]

He took his time, not letting the little "intruder" ruin his bathing rituals. As he finished up, he dunked his head into the pond and brought it back up without bothering to shake the water free. Keeping an eye on Miraj, he made his way back up to his pack and his dirty clothes. Paying him no mind for a moment, he fished out a folded up piece of cloth and draped it across his shoulders. Beginning the process of drying himself, he didn't pay attention to the fact that every drop he wiped from his shoulders or chest was quickly replaced by at least five more dripping from his hair.

Turning a little as the younger man bowed, he chuckled once more. He's funny. He didn't think that he would have held his composure after being mocked in such a way, especially since most men he met reacted with quite a bit of emotion -usually anger- whenever Julian decided to be mean and call someone a prude for the hell of it. He had to give it to him, he had restraint. Restraint, perhaps minimally, of his tongue, but it didn't seem as though he had a handle on his curiosity.

"Hello, Miraj al-Shaharyar of Thanatos." Julian's eyes danced with amusement and he tipped his head a bit to acknowledge the other man's bow, flashy as it was. He didn't feel like giving his name just yet, though, he felt that if this one was as curious as he suspected, he might work for it. Grinning at the mentioning, once again, of his being physically unarmed, Julian turned to face Miraj. Ever the show-off, he flexed his abdominals as he allowed the cloth to drop on top of his pack.

Slowly, he set the bar of soap next to his pile of dirty clothes. He wasn't in a rush, he wanted to make this fun. "Hm, your eyes so easily miss my most formidable weapon, Miraj," he joked. "But you want to know what I mean, yes?" He stepped closer, his eyes flashing between gold and a deeper green, the fangs of his feline side beginning to poke at his lips. Just as quickly as his eyes became disturbed, they settled back to their normal color and Julian began his swift change to his jaguar form.

Launching himself forward when his speedy transformation was complete, Julian aimed to get a scare out of the boy and let out a short, low-pitched roar and set his giant claws in front of himself as he sped through the air. Just as quickly as he'd jumped, he landed, and he had Miraj. Pouncing heavily on him, he settled his front paws against the boy's shoulders and breathed the hot breath of the great cat in his face. Almost grinning, he panted and nipped at his hair before allowing himself to shift back, once again a naked, wet-headed, grinning blond. "Hah," he snorted, finally shaking his hair out and, conveniently, in the face of his finely-dressed companion.

"Dangerous enough for you, Miraj?" he purred, keeping his hands against the other's shoulders, wanting to milk the situation for all it was worth.

[Anonymous]

There were exactly two thoughts running through Miraj's head. The first wasn't so much a thought as a wordless, incandescent outrage. It was the same outrage that prompted him to remove the stiletto from his leather waistband and hold the weapon between him and his attacker, just inches away from Julian's naked abdomen. Breathless, wide-eyed, Miraj lay perfectly still, careful not to make any unexpected movements. He would've gladly gutted the stranger from gullet to groin, but that would put his own life at danger. So he held his position, willing his heart to stop racing.

The second thought wasn't one he was ready to acknowledge to himself, but it was certainly there, hovering just beyond the pale of conscious thought. It had to do with the fact that Miraj was being pinned to the ground by a blonde, granite-abbed, chiseled hunk of man-meat. The cold water that hit his face wasn't quite enough to scare away the blush that crept up onto his cheeks. He told himself that his face was hot with fury, but he knew that was a poor excuse, and that only made him angrier.

When Miraj's breathing had settled down somewhat, and his heart wasn't aiming to burst out of his ribcage, he swallowed hard and tried to look spiteful and superior. It was no easy task, pinned and prone as he was. "A shapeshifter," he said, matter-of-factly. "I've seen your kind before." You could say I'm rather intimately acquainted with them, he thought, thinking of Achashverosh. Where was that useless lump of a familiar? "You'll be the first one I've killed if you don't get off of me."

That's when Miraj heard the rattle. Even if he could, he wouldn't have needed to look for the source of the sound, which came from somewhere past Julian's left leg. The rattlesnake was one of Achashverosh's favorite forms -- small, quick, and lethal. The demon wouldn't strike unless he heard Miraj speak the code word (which happened to be "pumpkin"), so Julian wasn't in any immediate danger. But that could change any moment, and that made Miraj feel as if he were back in control. He smiled up at his attacker, a thin, devious expression that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I live for danger, shapeshifter," he said, his grip tightening on the hilt of the stiletto.

[Anonymous]

Julian hadn't calculated the risks associated with jumping at the guy, but he realized how close he'd come to death when he glanced down and found himself nearly touching a weapon with his stomach. He wasn't, though, and he could only grin for that fact.

Meeting Miraj's eyes, he smiled in satisfaction, as though he had "won" at something. Taking note of his flushed appearance, he wondered briefly if he was embarrassed or, gods willing, he found him vaguely attractive suspended as he was. "Hmm, you're right, but there's no need for violence, Miraj." Of course, Julian didn't want to give in so easily. Taking note of the snake somewhere behind them, he didn't think that he had anything to worry about from such a creature "randomly" showing up.

"Ah, you live for it, do you? That's wonderful, you'll need that sort of attitude around here." Carefully, purposefully, the shifter sat back on his heels before slowly standing. He didn't much care if Miraj felt in control because he felt in control now. "So, why are you here? Traveling? Planning murder?" he asked, his tone completely shifted from that of mere moments before. "Or, perhaps, you came looking for me! Awwww, you're so sweet." Julian reached forward and patted the younger male's head before showing him his back and beginning a slow, calculated walk toward his pack so he might dress.

[Anonymous]

Miraj propped himself up on his elbows, a look of incredulity crossing his features. This man was... unbelievable. The shapeshifter was almost too confident, too self-assured, to be entirely real. Even Miraj couldn't afford to be such a bombastic ass, not with the sort of people he mingled with. Even Arsalan, one of the most powerful necromancers Miraj had ever known, had paid a steep price for his arrogance. Miraj was surprised that the shapeshifter had survived as long as he did without someone knocking him a peg or two down the ladder. Maybe he lives in this forest, he thought, smirking.

Miraj wasn't sure whether he admired the man, or wanted to teach him a lesson himself. He chuckled, more out of amazement and disbelief than real amusement. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, picking leaves and bits of forest litter from his hair. Now that the threat had passed, he slid his stiletto back into its hiding place and proceeded to dust off his shoulders and arms. Achashverosh slid forward, slithered up Miraj's outstretched arm, and wrapped himself protectively around his master's shoulders. "Do you want me to kill him?" the demon whispered.

Miraj stroked the snake absently. "No, pet," he said. His laughter had died down, but there was still a sparkle of humor dancing in his eyes, and a wicked smile on his lips. His eyes had never left the shapeshifter. "You're not a particularly... bright bunch of savages, are you? You shapeshifters, I mean. The last one I met liked to think himself invincible. Sadly for him, that wasn't the case." He pulled himself to his feet, shaking his head. "Tsk. Now I'm all dirty." He dusted off what he could, but bits of debris still clung to his cloak and tunic. "It's my turn to ask the questions, pussycat. First, I'd like you to tell me your name. It's only polite. And then I want you to tell me where the rest of your gear is, so I can relieve you of your weapons and horse. I wouldn't want you coming after me with a grudge, after all."

It was the purest of ironies that Miraj was acting so high-and-mighty, especially when the one question he really wanted to ask was strictly off-limits: namely, How the hell do I get to Adela?

[Anonymous]

He wasn't sure what would happen when he turned his back on the boy. Perhaps he would become enraged and lash out at him, or perhaps he would simply let him walk. The latter was allowed and Julian was a little impressed with that. He wasn't always like this, of course, he just took great pleasure in a sort of harmless torture, those mind games, control games that he often played with strangers. And they were still strangers since Julian had yet to introduce himself, but he still intended to make Miraj wait a smidge longer.

Getting back to his pack, he snatched up the cloth he'd dropped on top of it and began, again, the process of drying himself off. At first he wasn't aware of the boy still staring at him, but the ringing sound of his laughter brought a smirk to his lips. Arrogant, he thought as he folded the cloth up and dug through his pack to find fresh clothing, which he was glad to settle his body into after a long day of walking with his sweat clinging to him. Turning his head to look at Miraj as he stuffed his loose belongings into his bag, Julian rolled his eyes when he met a pair of green ones that were still looking his way.

Slowly, he turned his head away, as if to pay very close attention to his hands closing up the bag, but it was to hide the obvious heat that rushed to his cheeks; those eyes were quite beautiful...

When he was finally done, he stood slowly, careful to (attempt to) show his innate, graceful power. "Savages, you say? You clearly know nothing of my kind, then, Miraj." His eyes held a bit of sadness; was this how the world saw him? Saw people like himself? Savages? That was a bit too cruel, even for the ones that tended to live...outside. He didn't have much time to dwell, however, since the pretty, green-eyed boy was spouting off again, apparently attempting to assert himself. Julian smiled.

"You believe I'm hiding things from you? More, that you have the right to seize my possessions? I believe it was you who stumbled upon me, not the other way around. And what of a grudge? Hah! Me holding a grudge on someone I've known for but a few moments, clearly you think extremely little of me."

"Even if you managed to get my stuff...I know this land like the back of my hand, I would find you, I would hunt you down and get everything back, so what's the point?" He was bluffing. This was bad. Things always turned out bad when he bluffed. In truth, Julian probably knew little more about their location than Miraj. "And, but for politeness, what do you want my name for? If you only intend to take my stuff, do you wish to gloat about whose things you've taken? I see no reason to tell you, you'd only run off and forget it, wouldn't you?" There he went with that smile again, satisfaction overpowering any other emotions as he thought about how long he'd been stringing out this whole name thing.

[Anonymous]

It wasn't that Miraj thought little of the shapeshifter (alright, he did, but that was neither here nor there); it was just that he'd had far too many experiences dealing with other people's grudges against him to be anything less than careful. He wasn't about to trust the shapeshifter at his word, not when he didn't even know his name.

"If it's any consolation, yours is not a name I'm likely to forget." Let the man interpret that how he will. Miraj took a half-step forward, but was stopped by the sound of his familiar sucking in a sharp intake of breath. "Oye," the snake whispered. "And he's not likely to forget you either, now that he's caught a whiff of your clothing... he probably thinks you just came fresh from a blood orgy. Yeuugh!"

Miraj pinned the snake's mouth between forefinger and thumb, looking tart. He shh'd the creature, then flicked it in the face for good measure. He was going to need a serious bath when this was all through, and he didn't need his snarky familiar to tell him that. He rather envied the shapeshifter his squeaky-clean skin and dripping wet hair... Miraj bit his lip, willing himself to tear his eyes away from the man. Yes, alright? Yes. He's gorgeous. But gorgeous or no, he's a shapeshifter. Those creatures lend a whole new dimension to the word "two-faced." The blonde-haired hunk that stood before Miraj probably wasn't even his true form; as far as he knew, the man could be a wart-speckled octogenarian with bad teeth and hairy legs. Miraj shuddered.

"Robbing a naked cat-boy is not what I'd call gloating material," he said. In fact, he considered theft to be rather beneath him. After all, he hardly needed to rob this stranger of his belongings when he could afford much sturdier equipment himself. He did need a horse, though. He sincerely hoped the man had one tied up somewhere in this miserable forest. "And though you may not hold one now, when I pack up your things and leave you shivering naked on the bank of this river, you will have a grudge against me." He sighed. "I'll tell you the truth, sir. One of us ought, I think. Frankly, I don't trust you. Nothing you tell me is worth a bag of beans, so don't bother. I have to take your things for my own protection. And if you try to hunt me down... well, I'll tie you to a stone and throw you in the river." Miraj said it matter-of-factly, as if he were discussing a change in the weather. He flicked a stray leaf off his shoulder, and frowned. "So be a dear and do what I tell you, hm? It would be a shame to have to destroy that body of yours just for a couple rags and a horse."

[Anonymous]

Julian sighed, he was getting tired of the kid being a brat. "Look," he began, hesitant now that he knew just what Miraj thought of him. "I'm not looking for any trouble, I'm just traveling... If you really need my things, I suppose I could share, if you promise not to steal from me..." Fat chance. His eyes had shifted from their usual, bouncing humor to something more serious. "You don't seem like you'd have too much trouble securing your own things, but I guess the rich are too lazy since you feel the need to threaten me over...stuff." He was a bit disgusted by it, that Miraj was thinking far enough to resort to murder, and for what? His pack? It was hilarious, yet haunting.

He was tired of this now, the fun gone since the little brat couldn't just play nice. Shrugging at the command to "do what he was told", he adjusted his clothing before lifting the pack and settling it against his shoulders. "You seem like a smart boy, yeah? Go steal from someone else. I can promise you you won't take any of this without paying a price, but if you'd still like to try....well, heh. And don't call me cat-boy, alright? That's not my name. It's Julian," he told him. "Julian Adair."

He wasn't about to be told off again by some punk rich kid that fancied himself a game of rob-the-innocent-traveler. No, he would not be stolen from by Miraj, but if he played nice, Julian was willing to share since he himself didn't need much. "I don't know what you think of me, but don't assume that I'm some savage, Miraj. Maybe you could learn something, just ease up, alright? Live a little...it wouldn't kill you to get to know someone before you go off saying that they're some beastly being that has not a knock of sense." He was still bitter, and rightfully so, but Miraj had all but killed that spark of sarcasm and carefree nature in Julian, for the moment.

[Anonymous]

Julian's sudden shift in attitude caught Miraj off-guard. He'd assumed that the shapeshifter was some slavering savage who wouldn't think twice about ripping out Miraj's still-beating heart -- but now he wasn't so sure. "Julian Adair, hm?" he said the name, tasting it like a food critic trying out a dish he wasn't sure he liked. He knew he should be pleased with himself that he'd wheedled the man's name out at last, but the victory was cold and empty, and Miraj didn't know why.

He wondered what had caused the sudden change in Julian's demeanor. Was it the fact that Miraj was prepared to kill the shapeshifter for nothing more than a pile of dirty clothing and whatever other equipment he had on hand? ...Probably. But Miraj couldn't help it; at nineteen, he'd seen more cold-blooded murder than most men of eighty-five. Murder was just another thing you did to people you didn't like -- as twisted as that was. He blamed his attitude on his master, who would routinely drag home hapless victims for his paranormal "research." After seventeen years of waking up to the screams of kidnapped victims, Miraj was... desensitized. Sometimes, he had to remind himself that not everyone had the horror-house childhood that he did. Indeed, most normal people were put off when he chatted so flippantly about cold-blooded murder.

"Well... Julian, it looks like you've found reason, at last," he said, after a pause. Up until this moment, their sarcastic banter had been a game, a sort of contest to see which traveler would best the other in a verbal battle of wits. Now the game was over, and Miraj felt like it was somehow his own fault. "I don't really need your things, but having them would reassure me that you're not going to do something uncalled for, like stab me in my sleep. I could be satisfied with just your horse, though."

[Anonymous]

He was getting a little frustrated with Miraj now, since he just wouldn't give up the whole "having his stuff" thing. Snorting, he adjusted the strap on his bag once more and started walking, following the water. That horrid stench was still in the air, the same one that he'd smelled on the boy (he hadn't wanted to embarrass him by mentioning it), but it was stronger. He wasn't going to mention it, for now, though.

"You think too poorly of me. I have no reason to stab you in your sleep, that's absolutely the move of a coward, which I definitely am not. Keep thinking that way, though, it just makes it easier to walk away." He chuckled, a little smirk appearing once more as he glanced back at Miraj.

It was easy to overlook the boy's breathtaking appearance with how he was acting toward Julian; he felt no need to be kind to those who couldn't at least let unnecessary threats die in their minds, no matter how pretty they were. And Miraj was pretty to Julian, truly gorgeous really, but he hated a sour attitude and he hated it when people felt entitled because of their status. "Horse...yeah." He was joking, right? Julian didn't even dream of owning such a thing as he'd require the most fearless warhorse to have any hope of it not fleeing from the predator he could become. Fearless war horses cost money. Money was not something Julian had lots of, but, again, he didn't have much need for it either.

Sighing, still walking, he hoped he could shake this kid. He didn't want to be the one stabbed in his sleep, the boy seemed paranoid enough to carry out the deed without much of a second thought, even if he hadn't done anything to deserve it.

[Anonymous]

Miraj ground his teeth in frustration. Yet again the shapeshifter was turning his back on him; yet again he was treating Miraj as if he were a spoiled, petulant little boy, and not the powerful Thanati necromancer he was. He was sorely tempted to send Achashverosh after him, but that would only serve to to solidify Julian's impression that he was a remorseless cutthroat.

He didn't know why it bothered him that Julian thought so ill of him. There were plenty of people back in Thanatos who thought he was a murderous, irredeemable blight on the face of the earth. They'd kill him in an instant if he showed his face back on the necromancer isles. Somehow, though, Julian's opinion mattered more to Miraj than those self-righteous priests and scholars.

"Uh... Miraj?" Achasverosh asked. The demon had reverted to its lemur form, and crouched on Miraj's shoulder, both arms flung around the necromancer's neck.

"What?" Miraj snapped. He flicked one of Achashverosh's hands away from his face. How many times did he have to tell the demon the he wasn't a tree trunk?

"That Julian guy... heading into the forest... isn't that where you tied up the necro-horse?"

Miraj stopped trying the pry the lemur off his neck. "Ah... yes. I believe it is," he groaned. A paranoid fear seized him. If the shapeshifter discovered his mount, he would kill it, steal his saddlebag, and vanish into the forest like a will-o-the-wisp. Part of Miraj knew that such a scenario was highly unlikely, but the irrational part of him -- the part that usually won out over his better judgement -- couldn't shake the image from his mind. After all, it was what Miraj might've done, if he were in Julian's position.

He hurried forward, trying to overtake Julian before he could glimpse the rotting horse through the foliage beyond the river bank. "Can you blame me for thinking poorly of you?" he asked. He caught up to Julian, and rested a hand on the man's shoulder, hoping he would stop. "As I've said before, I know all about your kind. When you travel as much as I do, you hear stories. Part man, part beast. It's an untrustworthy combination, considering humans are beastly enough without an animal alter-ego to push them along."

[Anonymous]

He doesn't learn, Julian thought, rolling his eyes as he heard footsteps following after him. He didn't know about the horse, that it was the source of that vile scent, but he kept on walking despite the air becoming heavier with the smell. "Hm," he grunted, shriveling his nose a little.

When Miraj caught up to him he did slow, though probably not enough for the younger man. "This again? Look, I can blame you. You don't know me and yet you keep talking about me and "my kind" like I'm some terrible thing and I spend my every waking moment plotting the death of humankind.... I'm not some fairytale creature, I'm a man, alright? A man. And I have feelings too, you know, I don't care about your stories."

Julian was just angry now, his own words riling him up about the issue. "I mean, really! "Part man, part beast"? Don't waste my time. If you're going to bother talking to me, keep your horror stories to yourself, I don't want to hear anymore about "my kind"." His golden-green eyes flashed a look of disgust, hating how this man kept talking, and he just wished he would cut the rude remarks, it was giving him a headache.

Touching a hand to his forehead, sighing, he started to calm down again. He slowed further and then finally stopped walking altogether. Looking at Miraj, he didn't know what to think. He didn't know if he should get upset, if it was worth it.

[Anonymous]

Miraj pouted. He could feel his eyebrows drawing together and his lower lip jutting against his will. He bit down on it, willing his features to go completely neutral. He didn't succeed. He was upset, and he was terrible at concealing his emotions. He felt like a toddler who was being scolded for something that wasn't his fault. If he were a more perceptive person, he might have understood that Julian's foul temper was his fault. Miraj was an insensitive, racist brat, and Julian hadn't done anything to warrant Miraj's threats and insults. But Miraj didn't get to be the arrogant, spoiled brat he was today by being perceptive.

"A man?" he scoffed. He made a noise that sounded like a "huh," a mix between a sarcastic laugh and a snort of disdain. He was about to say something else insensitive (something along the lines of: look, buddy, you're about as far from a "man" as my grandmother is from a buxom beauty queen), but he bit his tongue. How could he phrase this more... diplomatically? Goddess, being tactful is so tiresome. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. There was just no way to say it without insulting the man. He took a deep breath and said, "Whatever you are, you're not a man. No matter how hard you wish it otherwise, men don't turn into slobbering beasts with claws the size of sickles."

Before Julian could turn around in disgust, though, Miraj quickly continued: "But," he said, "You obviously don't intend to kill me, which means that I was wrong on at least that count. So, I..." he paused, biting his lip. This was not going to be easy. "Well." He glanced at Achashversoh; the demon was looking at him expectantly. "That is..." He straightened himself up and looked Julian directly in the eye. If he said it this once, he was going to make it count. He didn't want any of that what-I-didn't-hear-you crap from Julian once he finally got it out. "...I'm sorry. What with you tackling me, and treating me like a wayward child, and strutting around like you own the whole goddess-damned forest, I can't say it was a complete overreaction. But maybe a little one."

That was torturous, he thought miserably. Who would have thought that apologizing could actually cause a physical pain in his gut? He looked at Julian moodily, waiting for the man to acknowledge the supreme effort it took him to admit that he might have been wrong.

[Anonymous]

Julian wanted to grab this guy and just shake him. Who was he to tell him he wasn't a man? Apparently he doesn't understand what I'm saying, he thought angrily, a low growl in his throat. Narrowing his eyes, he stared at Miraj while he struggled to knit his words together after insulting him again. "Spit it out," he grumbled, his mood all but ruined now. He didn't know why this was so, Miraj was just some kid that he'd had the misfortune of running into, but the boy wasn't helping at all.

He knew the apology wasn't entirely heartfelt, that he probably just wanted him to admit defeat and cave to some "I'm sorry".

"I didn't know that I could strut. Was I strutting? Did you like my strutting?" He loved messing with this guy, the look on his face while he was being teased and played with was priceless. "I don't think that I strut, though," he said after a pause. "And tackling you was all in good fun, right? Apparently not...must be a shifter thing, hm?" Julian wasn't directly acknowledging the apology on purpose, he still wasn't very happy with this guy. "I don't slobber. Cats don't slobber, that's disgusting; you must really have some obscure image of me in that head of yours."

"For your information, though, I am a man. I was born a human, I still am a human, but I.....I just have a little problem." There. What could he say to that? Having heard everything so far, though, Julian would bet a week's worth of baths Miraj would still find some way to insult him further.