OOC: Tags to
@Rhi-Rhi!
The streets were aglow with colors, rows of enchanted 'balloons' lining the air, children giggling, laughing and the sweet aroma of puffed candies was all but consuming. Mixed with the enchantment of the Fair, or whatever festivity this was called, Jarrett felt mildly out of place, a long, tall and dark figure, stalking the streets without an entourage and his lips doing anything but smiling. Even his eyes appeared dull compared to the life thriving all around him. But there was a curious glitter sparkling within their green depths, as he paused beside a building, keeping to the shade, and moved to reach into his breast pocket for his cigars- when a noise from above had him craning his neck sky ward and-
Suddenly there was a person in his arms. It nearly knocked him over, but thankfully he was able to adjust him in time to realize this person was injured, a blade jutting out from their chest and bubbling with the fresh sight of blood. Blinking, he peered up at the window when he heard a slam. Behind him, someone raced off from a back door way, while inside, he could hear the angered foot falls of someone storming down the stairs. But a garbled croak coming from the person in his arms drew his gaze back down to him, and as he opened his lips to speak, Jarrett raised the injured person up a little closer to his ears. But just as the man uttered, "N.. never get married,", he made a grunt of pain before sighing away unto death.
And that's when the front door of the building swung open, a woman racing out and gasping at the sight of her husband being cradled in Jarrett L'isson's arms.
"I knew it!" she shrieked, and awkwardly, Jarrett hugged the body closer to himself, not because he wanted to get all cuddly with a corpse, but to hide the blade. After all, normally Jarrett's hands were found guilty of being responsible for that spilled blood and well...
Here he was, finding himself actually
innocent and cradling a very fresh, and still bleeding corpse. He frowned as he felt the warm blood staining his new suit. The suit wasn't even an hour old yet. Thankfully, it was black.
"Edgar, you low life, man-cheating tramp! I
knew you were seeing Marz's boy! But I didn't know you were throwing yourself to men all over town!" The woman screamed. Little did she know he more or less
fell into this man's arms, but Jarrett wasn't about to correct her. She looked about ready to burst into flames.
"You
trollop! You
cad! You whore of a man, you regal
liar! To think all of these years you tried to play it off that you were some big shot with the ladies, yet here you are..."A nd she made a disgusted face at the pair of them. "Clinging to your man like a
hussy!" And she spat towards them, her face wrinkled souredly. "You can keep him! Edgar.." she said his word poisonously.
"We're through!"And stormed off, slamming the door behind her, leaving Jarrett to stand there, staring off into thought while trying to figure out just what happened and what to do with this dead man he was practically hugging, when a little girl in pig tails saw him int he corner. She gave him a shy smile when Jarrett finally noticed her, she handed him a red balloon and left.
So now Jarrett stood, alone, in a dark ally, just feet away from all of the festivities, dead man in his arms- a red heart shaped balloon cheerfully floating beside him as he frowned and stared off into the glittering, gay-filled world of the fair, and could not help himself but wonder....
Continued from here (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=16940.0)...
Einin had spotted Jarrett across the way, for she had been with Ryk, in the alley opposite his. And she had heard the commotion before she'd seen it--and when she'd seen it, she had just about died.
Jarrett was here, of all places, and...
Please don't let that be a corpse, please don't let that be a corpse...
Maybe it wasn't, but she'd come to assume that whenever he was carrying someone, they were most likely dead.
And so, with a long swig of liquid courage (thanks, Ryk!), she marched across the way to deal with him. Because she had to! He was technically her fiance, and if her fiance was found holding a corpse then...gods. That would be a nightmare. And that woman had been yelling about her husband's infidelity! Her husband who, from the looks of it, was the person (hopefully alive!) that Jarrett was currently holding--along with his cheery red balloon. However, it might also be the excuse she needed, because this engagement was a farce she quickly needed to end! Especially after, well...
After everything today.
Einin quickly crossed the crowd to Jarrett, or as quickly as she could, with her legs wobbly from alcohol and...other things. She walked more tenderly than she should have, still feeling uncomfortably sore, and though her hair had been up when she'd left for the faire, it now fell loose around her shoulders, freed of all its clips and braids.
Worse yet, she'd forgotten about the dark hickeys on her neck, and had forgotten to hide them with magic.
Finally reaching Jarrett, she grabbed his arm wordlessly and pulled him further into the alley. "What are you doing?" she hissed, and glanced down at the motionless man. Oh gods. Was that blood? "Please, tell me that guy's alive."
Shifting the weight of the corpse in his arm, Jarrett peered down at Einin with a frown.
"He was alive."
But evidently, he was alive no more. Death was evident as the knife came more clearly into view.
...Oh gods.
The knife came into view, and Einin blanched.
"Seriously? Seriously?! What is with you and dead people!" she demanded, voice rising a bit higher than she'd intended--but tipsy as she was, she didn't even realize it. "Can we not have a single nice day without a dead person in it! Is that against your religion or something?!"
Jarrett looked down at the knife then back over at Einin.
"The knife isn't mine."
And he gave a shrug.
"It was there when he fell into my arms."
Which you know.. made the situation better, right?
But then something caught his eye, as the assassin titled his head and moved to shift the weight of the things he held within his arms to brush away some of her hair from her neck.
"You've got something on your neck..."
And as he stared at them-
they looked a heck of a lot like hickeys... and was that... teeth marks?
"Did someone bite you?" he asked, his tone as even as ever.
"...Wha...what?" Did someone bite her...?
Oh.
Einin's face flushed red with realization and she slapped a hand over the side of her neck. Oh god. She'd...completely forgotten about that. Forgotten to cover those up.
Crap!
"No! It's...no. Not bites, not exactly--it's not important! What's important is you're cradling a dead guy!"
Still covering her neck, she looked over her shoulder, out of the alley and at the crowd. "If you didn't kill him, who did?"
Jarrett shifted the corpse within his arm as he scrutinized Einin's neck.
"Those look like human teeth marks."
And that's when he paused and realized...
with some awkward silence (and a subtle, blush), perhaps it was? She was a young girl and...
Well, young girls could be crazy. Boy crazy, that is.
"Why is the dead guy important?" he finally responded. "He's already dead."
Oh gods.
"W-well that's better than vampire teeth marks, isn't it?" Einin blurted before she could help it, and laughed a nervous laugh as her blush deepened. Clearing her throat, she started to move past him, to examine the alley.
"Anyway! Never mind that! The dead guy is important because if he's dead, who murdered him? Which means a villain is afoot and we must--ah!" She tripped on a cobblestone and grabbed at Jarrett's arm. Guh. Wow. That alcohol was...indeed some powerful stuff.
Jarrett managed to help catch her, and now he was juggling a corpse, a red heart balloon and his drunk fiance. And at this close range, he frowned. He could smell the alcohol on her breath.
"Are you drunk?"
Seemed a bit early to be having drinks. Then again, he always preferred to get drunk at night if he were to get drunk at all. But ever since the incident...
He was a bit more.... cautious on that one. Then again, what else could go wrong when he'd wake up hung over?
"And no one murdered him," he told her evenly. "I think he took his own life." And he peered back up at the open window before the angry woman suddenly slammed the shutters closed.
Einin hung on Jarrett's arm and shook her head, biting back a giggle. "I'm not drunk. I'm tipsy. And I'm not tipsy enough not to know people don't stab themselves in the chest!"
"Maybe his lover killed him," the assassin replied with indifference as he peered down at the chest. "Or was trying to be dramatic when he died."
"Well you need to get rid of him! You're going to get blamed!" Einin hissed, still clinging to Jarrett's arm. "And we gotta--we gotta find the murderer! Justice does not sleep, not even during faires!"
Jarrett frowned, and after some time of thinking, he moved to hand her the red heart balloon.
"Here."
And he shifted the weight of the dead man a little better in his arms.
"I'll go dump him in the river."
And he moved to walk out into the streets...
The streets full of people.
The streets full of a lot of people.
Einin took the balloon automatically, and blinked up at it in confusion.
A second later, and that confusion abated. Because Jarrett was leaving. As in, going out into the croud with a body!
Oh bloody Kia!
With a muffled yelp, she darted after him and nearly tripped over her own feet. She had to grab onto his arm to right herself. "What are you doing?! Are you crazy?! Stop!"
Jarrett stopped and peered down at where Einin was latched onto his arm.
"Did you want to come with me? The magic floating heart balloon you're holding might draw too much attention. It... would be best if I go alone."
"I want you to not drag a dead body out into a crowd of people!" Einin said, still clinging heavily to his arm. "You're my fiance! What will people think?"
Jarrett stopped in his tracks and frowned down at her.
"The best place to hide a body is in a river. This is the only path to get there from here. What else would you suggest?"
Einin laughed at that and shook her head, patting Jarrett on the arm. "I dunno, you're the sober one!"
Jarrett frowned as he looked at her, then down the street, then at the crowd. There seemed really no easy way around this- and he'd carted corpses in public before. Funny how no one seemed to really notice him when he did. It was then he spotted something nearby.
"We could go for a boat ride," he said, pointing towards a place that was labeled with a sign stating 'Paddle Boats- five coppers for a twenty minute ride'.
At least if they could get the corpse on one of them, they could sneak him out to deeper water.
A boat ride? Really?
...That did sound pretty fun. If not for the part where there was a corpse.
Grimacing, Einin swatted Jarrett on the arm. "That's great, except we can't just dump some poor guy's body in the river! That's disrespectful! And by we I mean you, of course!" She let out a sigh and let her head drop against Jarrett's arm. She was too drunk for this.
"Plus if you didn't kill him, who did? That means there's a murderer somewhere. We gotta alert the authorities."
Jarrett frowned as he stared at Einin for a while.
"There's no murderer," he told her plainly. "The man killed himself."
"But how do you know?" Einin asked, clutching Jarrett's arm harder.
Jarrett paused in midstride to peer down at Einin.
"When you've killed a lot of people, you see a lot of things. And after a while, you can read better into your trade." And he didn't elaborate any more before continuing forward, seeming to drag Einin along.
"And no one will make a fuss if we don't. So far, no one's even noticed us." And they were getting ever closer to the crowded streets that surrounded the river's dock.
Einin went along with him, though she wasn't doing a good job of 'playing it cool'. She was far too drunk to convincingly act, and she kept casting shifty looks around them, anxious that someone would notice the dead guy.
"What if someone does notice?"
Jarrett gave a shrug as he shifted the weight of the dead guy he held.
"I guess we'll find out if it happens."
A few people did give them a glance, but they were just odd looks and shakes of their head. They began to whisper, some of them loudly- talking about the damn drunks during the day...
Apparently they were quick to presume from Einin's obvious inebriation that the man Jarrett carried had to have been drunk, too!
"Still doesn't feel right, dumping a body without a proper burial," Einin muttered as they stumbled along, keeping a tight hold on Jarrett and oblivious to the murmurs around them. "Seems disrespectful..."
Looking up at Jarrett, she frowned up at him, expression intense, and squeezed his arm. "If we dump him, we have to have a funeral, okay?"
"You only have funerals for the dead you care about. And we don't know this man." And with a shrug, he then added. "And I don't have the time."
He did have his job to attend to, after all!
"We don't, but that's just cold! He deserves respect as much as the next person," Einin said with a huff. "It doesn't have to be a big one."
"Maybe you're too drunk to realize this, but if we get caught with this body, we both could end up in the river without funerals." Not that he cared much about funerals, but the girl just didn't seem to get it. Then again, most didn't seem to get Jarrett L'isson, after all. So he continued to move forward, still at the same, long legged pace as before, as they neared the boat rentals. He paid for one, the man giving them strange looks when he saw the dead guy, but Jarrett just gave the man a dead pan stare, and the guy had no idea how to respond.
"Guess you guys are having a lot of fun," was all he said, nervously before stepping aside to allow the pair to step into the boat. Jarrett went first, and with a heavy step, the boat rocked lightly before he sat down with the dead guy still in his arms. Then he turned to Einin and waited for her to join them.
Maybe Einin should have just...left Jarrett alone to deal with the body on his own. She briefly pondered that as she followed along, and yet, though it would have been the smart thing to do, she wasn't really thinking smart right now. Damn Ryk. Maybe she shouldn't have taken such a big gulp of that...whatever it was.
It was stronger than she'd expected.
And so she boarded the boat with Jarrett, which rocked beneath her. And that wouldn't have been a problem under normal circumstances, for she was normally surefooted, but when the world was already rocking on solid ground? It became an issue. With a gasp, she stumbled and fell, joining Jarrett's arms with the dead guy.
The man manning the boats chuckled at the pair and said, "Have fun you too." Before helping to push their boat from shore with his foot. It seemed if he had any questions about the dead guy, they vanished when the drunken girl fell.
But Jarrett was far from amused as he peered down at Einin, and well-
now both of them got covered awkwardly in the dead man's blood. He was hoping he could have avoided a stain for as long as possible, but now that idea was out the window. But there was water all around them. He supposed he could just clean off somewhere here.
And as he shifted the weight of Einin and Mr. Dead guy in his arms awkwardly, he got a wiff of Einin's alcohol breath and wrinkled his nose.
"How much did you drink?" he wondered out loud, as the boat awkwardly floated away from shore. Having no arms to do any paddling, they weren't going anywhere fast!
Realizing she'd toppled right into the dead man, Einin started to scream, but clapped a hand over her mouth to cut it off short. Not yet noticing the blood on her dress, she scrambled out of Jarrett's lap and took a seat next to him instead--and winced a little when she sat, because she was still kind of sore.
Fixing her skirts and brushing her hair back into place, she gave a little sniff. "Enough," she said, and glanced sidelong at Jarrett. "Oh, it wasn't that much! Er, not that much in quantity, but apparently it was a lot in spirit! Or something...hrm...actually, I'm not sure..."
She pushed her hair back over her shoulder and glanced out over the boat. "Several drinks?"
Jarrett said nothing at her reply, but once she wad seated he placed the corpse on the seat beside her.
"Hold him and be sure he remains seated as if he were alive," he said, and moved to grab the paddles, and only then did the boat start moving.
"Ack!" Einin grimaced as Jarrett left her to start rowing, and grabbed onto the dead man's arm to shove him back upright when he began to tilt. Gingerly. Because he was dead and she really didn't want to touch him! But she did, because otherwise he'd look dead, and--oh. Oh gods. His flesh was still slightly warm...
Einin's cheeks puffed out, and then she let her breath out slowly. Oh gods. Oh gods. She was touching a dead guy. A still warm dead guy. Sure, she'd experienced worse with dead guys, but right now she was drunk, which meant she started to feel nauseated, and dead guy plus alcohol plus a rocking boat...
Soon enough, it wasn't just the corpse that was starting to look green.
Jarrett saw the change in her expression and asked, "What's wrong with you? It looks like you ate a bad turnip."
"I think I'd prefer it if I had..." Einin said, and grimaced. "I think I'm gonna be sick."
Jarrett observed her quietly a minute before saying,"You don't drink that often, do you? The more you do it, the more you'll get used to it. But if you have to throw up, do so in the river. We don't need the boat smelling of vomit."
Einin kept her hand over her mouth and shook her head. "Wine with dinner, usually," she muttered. "But not a lot, not like today...and not...around bodies."
Unlike Einin, Jarrett was accustomed to this line of work- so a dead body at the dinner table, (or bar, as she had seen before) was of little consequence to him. But he wasn't so ignorant to how the others reacted to such thing, but it was still interesting to see Einin turn green on the boat-
And also be drunk.
"Maybe you should try it more often."
"Drinking? Or being around dead bodies?" Einin asked, making a face.
The moment went quiet between the two, the only sounds being that of the waters slapping the side of the boat, and the gaggle of noises humming from the fair. It was only after a moment did he shrug. And though his expression did not change, his words could possibly be translated into humor when he replied, "Both."
"Euuuugh..." Einin groaned, sticking out her tongue in disgust. "Drinking, sure. Bodies, no. Let's not. Drinking, though. Drinking is fun, but now I can't stand and I can barely sit."
Apparently, it also took away her filter. She flushed red, reminded of the reason sitting was uncomfortable, and looked back out onto the water.
"Should I escort you home then? To sober up?"
"No!" Einin said, exasperation on her voice. "We have a criminal to catch! I can sober up later! Crime doesn't wait for sobriety!"
Jarrett merely stared at her. It took him a while, but seeing as her expression didn't budge, he asked her, "Are you sure you're in any condition?" Chasing criminals while puking her guts out didn't seem very effective to him. But what did he know? He was just an assassin.
"Oh, of course! Of course I am! I'm absolutely fine!" Einin said with a laugh, right before the lurching of the boat made the alcohol slosh around in her belly.
Her smile faded and she turned a little green around the edges. For a second she froze, as though trying to fight it back, but a second later and she rushed for the edge of the boat so she could throw up over the side.
Watching her puke, he waited until she was finished before informing her, "I'm taking you home."
"Whaaat?" Leaning against the edge of the boat, Einin looked over her shoulder at Jarrett and wiped her mouth clean. "What, no, we've got criminals to--"
Another wave of nausea hit, and she leaned over the side of the boat again.
"After we take care of business here I'll just carry you back," he said simply, rowing the boat onward.
"Business," Einin said when she could speak again, sagging against the railing of the boat. Ugh. Wow. She felt like shit. "What business again? Tossing him overboard?"
"Well, I didn't come to the fair for this body," he said plainly, keeping steady, even rows. "I don't exactly get paid for bringing back some random corpse."
"What'dja come for?" Einin asked, slowly picking herself back up and heading back over to him on wobbly legs. She still felt queasy, but she no longer felt like she was about to vacate everything she'd consumed in the last year. "Balloons?"
"No," Jarrett went on. "A man named Blaith Martin. Someone wants him dead, and before the end of the fair."
"In other words..." Einin scowled at Jarrett and pointed at him. "You're the criminal!"
Jarrett hardly seemed phased, his oars still dipping in time within the water, drawing them farther and farther away from the noise of the fair.
"I'm an assassin," he replied, simply. "I just kill who I'm told."
"Then I must stop you," Einin said with a firm nod. "Now dump the body and let's go home! You're not going to kill anyone here today."
Jarrett, for the moment, stopped his rowing as he stared at her.
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I will have to take you down!" Einin said, a stubborn set to her jaw as she placed her hands on her hips.
And wobbled a little as the boat rocked.
Jarrett just stared at her, then went back to rowing. Once he felt he was far enough out, he hefted up the corpse and tossed it over the side with a splash. Returning to his seat, he simply began to row back towards the shore, but aiming for another dock- so no one would ask questions as to where the third 'person' had gone.
Einin plopped down into the seat next to Jarrett, no longer able to stand upright now that they were in motion again. She stared back at the water where the corpse had fallen, frowning. "Poor man..." she said, and let out a sigh. "I hope he didn't have a family or anything."
Jarrett didn't even shrug as he said, "He had a wife."
Had being the keyword.
Einin gave him a suspicious look. "You seem to know an awful lot about him for someone who wasn't at all involved."
Jarrett simply replied, "It's not that hard when you're a witness to it."
Einin blushed a little at that, her assumptions about the situation proved wrong. "Oh," she said, and fell silent for a few moments after.
But when those moments passed, she looked up to Jarrett, nudging him lightly to get his attention. "You're not really going to do it, are you?"
It was at her little kick did he finally look away from the shore.
"Not do what?"
"Kill some poor guy on a faire day," Einin answered with a frown.
"What difference does it make what day it is?"
That made Einin stop and think for a moment. A long moment. Finally, she perked up, raising a finger.
"It doesn't matter, actually! Murder is wrong any day of the week."
"Yes," Jarrett went on, his tone still that of indifference. "But a jobs a job. And it's not like any of my kills are of innocents." He didn't need that on his conscience- even though it didn't seem like he had one, personality or other wise!
But then as he thought it over- there was one he did question.
"Except one mark I have...." and he gave this far away look before peering over at Einin.
"Your father.. what do you know about him?"
He didn't seem like that bad of a man- but who knew. He normally never investigated before a kill, but he might as well since they both were here and well, the words and inquiries kind of just came out.
Einin froze, and her stomach dropped in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol in her bloodstream.
She looked up at Jarrett, her brow furrowing and expression sobering, even though she was very much not sober.
"W...why are you asking about my father?"
She had a good guess as to why.
'Except one mark I have,' he'd said, right before mentioning her father.
"He's one of my marks," he told her, his voice was even as ever. "Most marks I don't question or ask why. But if he were like the other ones I take, he would have been dead by now."
Einin grabbed Jarrett then, taking both of his hands in hers and gripping them in a death grip. "Don't you dare hurt him."
At such an action, both paddles dropped into the water and he simply stared at Einin.
"But I haven't yet." And he paused, frowning, his face actually seeming to struggle with thoughts- or an emotion.
"I told you this assignment was different."
Einin didn't notice the paddles, or what that meant. Right now, that didn't matter. Her heart was pounding and her grip on him tightened even more as she looked up at him, almost pleading, and her stomach did sickly flip flops.
"So you're not gonna," she said, though it was more of a demand. "Please don't, Jarrett. I don't--"
She drew a deep breath. "I don't wanna have to hurt you."
Jarrett just stared at her. And he blinked. He wasn't sure what to say so he shifted uncomfortably, but didn't fight her grip on his hands. It didn't really hurt anyway- and to him? Well she was kind of harmless out here anyway.
"I'm not going to. At least not right now," he told her plainly.
"Not ever!" Einin corrected fiercely, shaking his hands. "He's my father, and I love him, and he loves me. He's a good man! We don't always get along, but he tries to do good by me, and he has, even if he doesn't really get me. And no matter how much we might bicker now and then, that's what families do, and--"
Tears began to fill her eyes, as the alcohol plus the thought of losing her father blended into one potent cocktail. "Don't take him from me."
Jarrett frowned at her tears. He went silent. He wasn't exactly the sort that consoled any body, let alone knew how to do it. He studied her for a long moment before deciding his answer with a simple, "Okay."
And promptly felt... very strange after he said it.
"...Huh?"
Einin's expression went from hurt and angry to owlish as his words gave her some sort of emotional whiplash. She tilted her head, blinking several times. "Wait. What? 'Okay'? You...so you agree? Just like that?"
Jarrett shrugged.
"He doesn't have to be my mark any longer. But that doesn't mean someone else might go after his bounty."
Einin's head swam. "Jarrett, why is there a bounty on my father?"
"Because someone wants him dead," came his blunt answer.
"I know that! But who? And why?" Einin asked with a frustrated sound.
"Don't you know? Since you got offered the bounty?"
"Sometimes those who post the bounties are a third party. This one didn't have a particular name latched to it, but it did have coin upfront. Which is an odd scenario for a killing that's desired to be discrete. Then again, they probably know the risks involving an assassin already and the less information, the better. But as far as I know from the last time I had seen it, I was the only one who had taken an interest. But that was a while ago. And the ink on the paper had still been fresh."
Einin chewed on her bottom lip, worrying at her dress as she rubbed the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. "Is there...like, a way to destroy the bounty, or...?"
Jarrett shrugged.
"Kill the one who posted it, it would revoke the bounty. Or kill your father. The bounty has been up for a while." Those seemed the only two logical solutions to him.
Einin made a face. "Is there a method that doesn't involve murder? Like maybe just...I dunno, arresting the bounty-maker-person?"
Jarrett just stared.
"Not when it involves assassins. Death is a guarantee. Prisons are not forever."
Einin thought about that a long moment before she perked up and said, "Well, an assassin is a murderer. He would be tried and sentenced to death. His death would be just, and our problems would be over. See? I didn't say anything about death! Just not murder!"
Jarrett simply stared at her.
"And you say that isn't murder? Killing another person is still killing. The man who rams his ax into the chopping block just has an easier job of it- his kills are given to him. Then he gets paid."
"But it's justified!" Einin said, and furrowed her brow. "I think. If someone murders and they get put to death, it's just, because it's stopping them from taking more lives."
Jarrett pondered over this statement for a while. It seemed there was a point to it, but he wasn't sure what to comment. Perhaps it's why he chose his marks so carefully. Either way, he supposed it didn't matter to Einin. After all, she was now in a boat with a killer, and a killer who she just found out had a mark on her father.
Thinking back to her comment, the same thing could have been said about the executioner. But he didn't comment about that, just stared off into space.
"Uhm, hello?" Einin said when Jarrett did his spacy thing. She waved a hand in front of his face. "You there?"
Jarrett's eyes returned to her. Blinking once, he just looked at her. But said nothing.
With a frustrated huff, Einin reached out and pinched his arm. Hard.
Jarrett nearly leaped out of his skin, the boat rocking and his face showing an expression she had yet to ever see. Surprise.
That's at least what one would call it as he stared at her, eyes still wide before they blinked and he almost returned to his normal, spacey expression. But soon he was frowning as he looked at her.
"I've heard many versions of justice."
He wasn't even sure he believed it was a word anymore.
Einin gasped and stumbled backwards and away from Jarrett when he jolted, and she sat down heavily as the boat rocked and her stomach rocked with it. Eyes wide, she stared up at Jarrett in equal amounts of surprise, having never seen anything more than stoicism on his face!
"Oh, jeez! You scared me!" she gasped, clutching her belly, before she took a deep breath to calm herself. She blinked up at him and tilted her head, curious and concerned. "Are you...are you okay?"
Jarrett only blinked. But realizing his stare was never really a good enough response for Einin, he settled on a shrug.
Einin stared back at Jarrett, holding his eyes, a flat expression on her face.
"You're going to have to elaborate," she said. "I don't speak shrug."
And at that, Jarrett went back to simply staring. And it appeared as if he might not even say anymore than that. But then he did, he did speak, though not much.
"What sort of response did you want?" He thought his response had sufficed. She asked if he was okay. A shrug was an affirmative. Did she not understand what a shrug meant? Confused, which was evident on his face only by a some what constipated look he now adorned, he then added, "Yes." And paused, feeling stiff and awkward. "I am okay." And by the faintest hint of a look, it almost appeared as if Jarrett had eaten something rotten, as his lips sagged into a frown.
"A verbal response is always nice," Einin said, crossing her arms over her belly, which still felt rather queasy. "A shrug can mean anything. 'Sure', 'I don't know', 'Meh', 'Who cares?', to name a few. Besides, you don't really look okay. You look like you just took a bite out of a lemon."
She squinted her eyes at him a bit. "And you just about jumped off the boat a second ago."
Jarrett simply stared at her. And when he realized she was looking for a response, naturally he shrugged. But then realized-
Right, she had just chided him for that sort of response. So he shrugged again and added.
"You startled me. I haven't smoked all day." And he was definitely itching for a puff.
Einin blinked blankly at that. "You're jumpy 'cause you haven't smoked?"
She really had no idea what smoking did beyond puffing on a flaming stick for whatever crazy reason.
"Well that, and my blood itches," he added with a shrug. "Smoking is a calming activity. Have you never tried it?" It looked like she could use a cigar, or two!
"Ugh, no, never and I don't really care to," Einin said, wrinkling her nose. "It stinks."
As usual, the assassin shrugged, and soon his eyes were focusing on the small inlet where they could dock. A few other boats were there, and Einin and Jarrett were hardly noticed, which suited him just fine. He was more or less not here to socialize. But the moment their boat hit the shore, Jarrett's eyes flashed to something- and the rest all happened in a rush.
Jarrett's arms swung around Einin, and he dove towards the side of the boat, using his shoulder to roll it and spill the pair beneath the water as a blast of magic rocked the boat above them and sent an explosion of colors reflecting beneath the waters.
Jarrett's head and shoulders were the only things above the water, and he held Einin up with one arm, and his other hand was gripped to the boat's edge, and he wasted no time in using his feet to kick away from shore when another magical blast nearly split the wooden boat in half just ontop of their heads.
Einin was too drunk for this.
That, or maybe she wasn't drunk. Maybe this day was drunk!
Because before she could do so much as stand to disembark, BAM! Jarrett snatched her up and into the water they went while all around them, the world exploded. First with the cold of the water hitting her body and going up her nose, then with a literal explosion, colors filling the air above the water.
Jarrett had her still, which was good, because Einin couldn't swim sober, and when her head broke the surface she choked and gagged and spat up lake water. "Gods! What the fu--?!"
She had no time to finish her sentence when Jarrett kicked away fro,m the shore--and the boat exploded.
With a yelp, she threw her arms around Jarrett's neck, more afraid of drowning right now than being blown apart (though perhaps she should have worried more about that, too!), and gasped out, "I think someone's trying to kill us! Or you! Probably you!"
Jarrett barely caught a glimpse of the one attacking them. But it only took him a second to realize who it was. It as his mark,a nd his mark damn well knew he was after them. He could have swore, perhaps he did, but he had to act quickly.
"Hold your breath."
It was the only warning she'd get as he did the same, and was soon diving deep beneath the water's surface, keeping her close while magic continued to missile it's way through the river waters.
Einin had just enough time to gulp in some air when they plunged back underwater, the dark space around them lighting up with flashes of magic. She clung tightly to Jarrett, clinging hard even as her lungs strained and burned and she prayed they wouldn't be hit by whatever was being sent their way!
And prayed Jarrett would surface soon, because she wasn't a swimmer, and she hadn't practiced holding her breath.
While under water, Jarrett wriggled some, but kept a firm grip on Einin. Finding the dagger in his boot, he moved and cut at his wrist,a nd the waters clouded with a line of red blood, and he moved to draw it as a circle around them until it made the waters murky and unclear. Then, once that was done, he moved to slip the dagger away and spoke into the waters with his last breath.
The first words were from some strange language, or garbled nonsense, but then the blood circle opened before them and what appeared to be Einin's room, appeared inside the circle.
And the last words he uttered through bubbles was, 'God." As he let go of her and moved to hold his other hand over his bleeding wrist, as more magic sailed past them, one missing Jarrett by mere inches as it singed his sleeve.
Einin hardly realized what was happening before she spilled into her room, landing with a hard thud on her floor in a puddle of water, her dress soaked and clinging and pink hair plastered to her face. She coughed until she gagged, choking up water that had gone up her nose and down her throat, stinging and burning horribly, and it was through blurry eyes that she saw...
What the--her room?! How was...what?!
It was the work of magic, clearly--she had glimpsed that bloodied ring, shortly before she'd been shoved through--but gods! Where the hell was he?! Was he still...?
"Jarrett!" she choked out, stumbling to her feet and falling when her dress tangled around her legs.
But her calls would be futile, for Jarrett was no where to be seen. Even the traces of his magic had long since faded, leaving her wet clothing and the puddle beneath her as the only proof to what had happened. But it was at her sudden cry that there came a knock on the door.
It was Alita. One of the many servants in her home.
"Lady Beirne? Is that you?" the woman asked softly through the door.
[...I can't believe I didn't respond to this, oh my god. D8]
...Oh shit.
"Yes! It's me!" Einin called quickly, and scrambled to her feet--this time successfully. What now, though? It would be hard to explain why she was soaked to the bone in her Fair clothes.
Thinking fast, she ducked behind her changing screen and started to tear off her soaked, heavy clothes, just in case the Alita decided to be nosy despite her wishes. All the same she left a trail of water all across her room, not to mention the huge puddle where she'd landed and the bits of water plants that had gotten caught up in her clothes and hair. "It's okay, Alita. I just...er, I just tripped and startled myself, that's all!"