[Pardon the suck and boringness. I have been so stuck on this. o.o And apologies for the wait!]
Nakaris yawned, absently swirling what was left of his ale around in the mug. It had gone warm and gross since he'd drank it slow for once, so he had no intention of finishing it now. Nah. Another time and he'd be totally up for tossing back some drinks and getting completely shitfaced, maybe wake up next to a woman he didn't know that probably looked good the night before, but...no way. This was just to relax him. He'd be getting on a ship within the hour (give or take, these captains rarely left on time), and there was no way in hell he wanted to help the inevitable sea sickness along. Besides, he was pretty tired. It had been a long few days gathering supplies and information.
Now, if only he was tired enough to pass out the duration of the voyage back to Necromantia. That would be awesome.
He listened idly to the chatter all around him, mentally weeding out all the drunken nonsense so he could listen for the important bits, like news both local and national. It was a good way to pass the time, and it served a purpose, too! Biting back another yawn, Nakaris eyed the remainder of his drink, shrugged, and tossed down the rest of it, even if it was warm and nasty. He shoved the mug away and rested his elbows on the bar counter, swivelling boredly back and forth on his stool, and he was about to turn to his companion (who was chatting it up with some women, the freaky womanizer; no offense to Nage, of course, but the thought of the bug-man having a sex life always sort of freaked him the fuck out) and see if he didn't want to start heading for the docks when a lot of things happened at once.
Some drunk man loudly proclaimed some lass to be pretty and Nakaris glanced over his shoulder and smirked, deciding it could wait a little longer so he could watch the clumsy attempt at flirting. Gods above he hoped he didn't look like that when he was feeling inebriated and amorous. He chuckled to himself; poor girl looked panicked.
And suddenly the man did, too, as he was forced backwards as though shoved, even though he hadn't been touched.
Nakaris' eyes narrowed and he turned a little in his seat just as the man fainted and thudded to the floor. Chai? Had he heard correctly? He looked to the man she was with, then back to her, and suddenly it felt as though he had been plunged into an icy river. Oh fuck. Was that...was that seriously...? Realizing he was staring, he quickly averted his eyes and faced the bar again, eyes wide and heart hammering in his chest. Chailyn. How the hell did he know that name? Auburn hair, sea green eyes, the smell of smoke and decay all around. In the back of his mind he heard a woman screaming. Stop it! Can't you see it's wrong? It's all wrong! Can't you see--
Nakaris clenched his eyes shut and shook his head hard to clear his mind and shake the random snippets of vision and sound away, one hand massaging his left temple. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes again. That happened sometimes, too often for comfort, and most of the time he didn't even know what it meant except that J'aari perhaps was trying to tell him something. This time it didn't matter; he didn't care about the significance of that little trip. All that mattered was that he recognized her.
Recognized them.
And he couldn't fucking believe their luck...fucking Fenway. It was surprising enough seeing the little bastard again, but he'd learned through the grapevine that he was now king. Gods. A lot happened in just a few years, and damned if this didn't make the job so ridiculously easy. You'd think a former knight woul have better sense than this.
When Chailyn went outside, Nakaris turned toward Nage and elbowed him in the ribs. Once he got his attention, he leaned in close. "King fuckin' Fenway's 'ere," he whispered in his ear, tossing his head in Fenway's direction before running a hand through his messy red-gold hair to cover up the action. "Once in a lifetime chance. We're takin' this. Don' do jus' anythin' yet, though. Jus' wait a few minutes after me, then come out. Got an idea."
He waited a minute or two before he paid the barkeep, slipped off his stool, and strolled casually outside. He wasn't really worried about Fenway recognizing him because hey, it had been a few years and criminals were forgettable, right? Not like they'd actually fought face to face, anyway. Even if they had, he'd changed a lot himself. He no longer wore the gaudy, flashy clothes he used to when he was younger, now opting to wear a more low key style--a simple tunic and breeches, nothing any other peasant didn't wear, and instead of the dozens of flashy, shiny jewelry pieces he used to wear he only wore a single necklace and pair of earrings. His hair fell to his shoulders, currently not tied back as usual.
And, of course, it helped that he was actually clean and not, you know, covered in blood and junk as he had been when he'd last seen Chailyn and Fenway both.
He found Chailyn leaning against a wall outside with her hands pressed against her eyes, and he advanced upon her quickly. His hand slapped loudly against the wall by the side of her head as he leaned in toward her, half pinning her there even if he wasn't touching her. Instead, he simply used his size and closeness to put a scare into her; he distinctly remembered her fear of men. "Hullo, Chailyn," he greeted softly, grinning, eyes on hers.
And then he summoned J'aari, channeling the magic into her and letting it seize every nerve in every muscle, not actually damaging any tissue though he was sure as hell using it to hurt her. He did it quickly, hoping the attack came fast and strong enough that she wouldn't have a chance to scream, that the pain would overwhelm her and knock her right out clean as a punch--only without the messy bruises and evidence and stuff. He wasn't even worried about anyone seeing him do this.
J'aari was invisible, and if she slumped it would only look like she'd fainted. Judging by her behavior in the tavern, it wouldn't be the oddest thing to see.
