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Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina]

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Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina] Empty Wed Apr 17, 2024 8:55 pm

It had been quite some time since he had come to a city proper after his prior guild had finally collapsed. Jikan was nowhere to be seen and many of his allies were now ghosts in the wind. It hadn’t left him bitter by any means, more concerned for the well being of the various people he knew. He had heard whispers of Knuckles joining paradise dawn and ittindi going so far as to even join the rune knights but that’s where his information regarding those two stopped. He knew that they prioritized survival over anything; or rather that there must be a reason that they’d join either guild.

It was still early morning when he arrived at oak, the guards were wary of any newcomers and even more so when they boasted a cart like he did. It was well stocked with food, beverages and anything else you could really ask for. The last bit of his jewels had been spent maybe a few towns back but that was fine. Oak was a place he could regrow maybe? Early in the morning bars didn’t do well, so he’d sell food. Custom cuisine from his homeland of iceberg. Hearty and filling food with an equally fierce taste.

Mostly meats given the fact he was a fox and if he got hungry he could step aside to make himself something. No one seemed to complain, people paid, got their food and left after a little bit. Conversation wasn’t the peak here and that was fine, some people asked for wine or beer and he’d sell them that too. As the day went on he’d note that there was a certain… buzz to this place he couldn’t really place.

It made his skin itch, it made his fur bristle, it made him wonder quietly what sort of pains and pangs this city had went through. It reminded him of his armor, of his sword. The whispers he could still feel in his head whenever he touched the hilt. He could tell there was an unease in some of the people here.

The west was a host of darkness, a place where powerful dark mages had made their beds and had down unspeakable things in the past and more in the future if given the chance. Not even the rune knights at the height of their power did anything to quell either the lasting darkness of Eternal Nightmare that still could be felt to this day and the re-emerging darkness of Phantom Lord. People talked about them freely over drink; even more so when he stirred their hunger with his food.

Does it bother you?

He’d ask many a time, but most people seemed to think that these guilds had their best interests in heart even though they were ‘dark’ guilds. Sure eternal nightmare had been a dark guild but it took care of the people around it, Phantom lord would likely be no different. So there was little worry. Skalds face split in a small smile; something faint and reminciant of another guild master. They might be different than her but he felt as though maybe… Dark guilds were just dark because they didn’t bend the knee to the king.

Something that some guilds still didn’t do to this day, like paradise dawn. It was a neutral guild sure but it was practically the light of the north. He had to wonder what sort of long lasting effects phantom lord was going to have. He’d watch his last set of customers go, noting the time. He had been open since breakfast and now it was rapidly approaching dinner. Another crowd would come and go before he would even consider closing up shop. A new place that served food on the go was a rarity; even one that was run by such a strange being.

So he cleaned, his shadows slipping along the walls. He’d flinch somewhat when he could feel the ache of his sword. It craved to be wielded, it craved battle. It was acting this way for months now and he wasn’t even sure if it was his thoughts or the swords. But something here set both of them on edge. Maybe he’d go somewhere else, maybe he’d find himself a place that he could… Rest? Maybe somewhere he could just forget himself for a little bit. He’d set his jaw and feel his teeth grinding against one another. Each little twitch of his ears and flick of his tails made him seem more irritated than he was. He’d adjust his shirt and vest before glancing over the empty street…

...I don’t envy the ones that had to live through all of that…


Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina] Empty Fri Apr 19, 2024 3:07 pm

"My, you're a strange one." The voice came not in discontent nor judgment, but a peculiarity beneath layers of something chewier than saccharine. A dark chocolate - bitter? Her sweetness was not that of a candy. It was the stem of a flower, luring in insects like ambrosia and she the host of the gods' favored. An ironic thought, that. A smile within the darkness. It split shadows for a glint of white as if it were a blade cutting stone. Still, she laughed. Still, she spoke to the figure at his charming cart. It wasn't often to catch newcomers bold enough to picket on Oak's streets, especially so if they didn't make scarce by the evening hours.

A rarity, so an interest to her. Did it ever have to be so much more complicated? Coventina Carmen stepped into view like her existence was a natural aspect of the scenery. She melted from the shadows with a tone that argued she had been there for these musings and always had, always might be. A part of the architecture. A pillar of the ... community. Long nails carefully manicured red & black on alternating fingers crest the side of her cheeks, playing across the side of her mouth, and it frames the way she parts them to speak between pale cherry. "I haven't seen your ilk before. On my streets; even less. What brings a vision like you to a place like this, darling?" Another step and she's freed from the trappings of darkness, her pale more intense than a streetlight could dare cast in this ambience.

"I heard your little curiosities, cat,"
she'd stride closer, every step closing ample distance but the act of the movement lost in the visual of it. She moved from place to place - had she always been there, or there, or there? Why, of course. Isn't that the lesson you already learned? Her pinky teased across the rim of one lip, her free hand moving up to push a lock of her obscurant bangs from the playful amber that'd meet him otherwise. Raven hair would orchestrate a waterfall down her nape and the flowing silk of her outfit; a countess of the night. Nobility, she must be. She had to be, in a dress like this, accentuated with roses and gold trim over a black so unsettled on her porcelain skin. A doll couldn't speak or loom the way she did, but what else could play dress-up like this?

"Oh, my apologies. That wouldn't be right, would it? What say you tell me what I can call you ... and I'll tell you what you can call me?" She was before him now, the only figure in the street to share his space, and she watched him toy with his blade and presume only a thin smile - a cut in the night - in turn. "Then I might even answer the questions you pose for the people." The intonation was a step away from 'rabble', if not 'mortals.' "I find I'm a little more interesting as a conversationalist ... would you disagree?"


Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina] Empty Sat Apr 20, 2024 4:24 am

The voice that spoke to him was not of anyone that he had sensed or seen in any fashion; it was someone new. Someone he hadn’t talked to before; the kitsunes head cocked slightly and his piercing blue eyes swept around the street. Not in concern or panic but more as a cautious curiosity. One that was wisened to this sort of thing. The sweetness that he felt… was something more akin to what a predator recognized from another predator. His hands found themselves busying themselves and he wasn’t sure if he was hearing things at first but…

Once the woman emerged he was gifted with the sight and idea of what she looked like. A stunning beauty to say the least, but every bit of her words seemed to set the kitsunes danger sense off. The way they claimed the streets, the way they prowled and rolled the words like rich velvet over a chocolate cake. It would be tantalizing to those that weren’t careful. He’d lean slightly on the ‘counter’ of his bar; he didn’t feel as though he was in danger. If he was going to be in it he doubted that someone such as this would mince words.

Not many can step into shadows or emerge from them like that. Strange to some I suppose; others not so much. My kind aren’t really know for traveling the warmer set countries or at least out of Iceberg or Joya.

What brought him here? A tail flicked, then two, a third seemed to curl around a stein, another found itself dusting off one of the countertops, some lay dormant and another gently tugged that sword out of his grasp. Putting it away and to the side. He was so far out of danger that he might as well be in a nursery.

Mostly monetary gain; some information. Perhaps I’m seeking an asylum of sorts. New guilds crop up all the time; but dark guilds that are as brazen as the ones here? It’s best to know the dark side of the country before you worry too much about the light. Ones more likely to stab you in the back while the other kicks down your front door in the name of ‘Justice’.

He knew of the shining beacons of hope and power across the land known as light guilds; while he heavily respected them, sometimes they didn’t take care of everything needed. Here his curiosity would be delving to see what sort of guild the one emerging here was like and if he warranted a deeper… understanding. Not to mention he liked the idea of money. There was a tingling in the back of his head that told him he was saying too much but at the same time… there wasn’t anyone on the street. People had made themselves scare before the night even crept on.

His eyes locked onto her at first and then again, and then again as she strode forward. She seemed… playful to say the least. Flirty maybe? He didn’t get that undertone, maybe something malicious brewed but the kitsune didn’t seem too bothered. The tingling in the back of his head and across his body seemed to be from a latent mana build up, nothing dangerous but there was a sort of charge to him that was unlike most of his kind. He’d pluck the stein out of the tail, it giving the woman a little wave before settling down with the others. He’d go about and wash it out, eyes focused on the stein for a moment before flicking up to the woman as she asked for his name. Names had power in this sort of society and her looks told him that maybe he was deeper into oak than he initially realized.

Sounds fair to me. Name’s Skald, Skald Ragnulf. Sole clansman of the name. Always kind of interesting being the ‘last’ of something.

He’d snort softly and lean forward, the stein was filled with a hearty liquid. Its strong scent sat well among the street and its proof was undeniable. Sweet, somewhat inviting, if the woman wanted she could try it, if not skald would see it to himself. He had plenty of drinks and this mead was just one of many. The inflection on the word wasn’t lost on him, some people held the masses in higher regard, some treated them like they belonged underfoot. He quickly understood what she meant.

Mm. I do find it interesting, find you interesting. Not many approach me in this manner spinning things in such a way. I would not mind an answer from your point of view. It’d be enlightening. If you have any questions of me that you’d like to ask… well feel free to ask.

He could feel something... right. Something that was meant to happen and meant to be with him sort of twist deep down. A little crackle near his back, a little spark next to one of his fingers. So small and so forgotten that the kitsune didn't even seem to notice. Part of the reason he was so safe is that this entire day he had been spending his mana and energy wrong... which led to those being scared about him. He was safe. In several metrics of the word.

And by extension as a patron so would she.


Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina] Empty Sat Apr 20, 2024 12:52 pm

What a gentle rumble. She allowed another smile, fraying from its tightness to the slope of something more pleasant than binding. It's not that she wouldn't tie him up -- but a web was so much prettier in its craft than thick chains you'd tow. That wasn't how she spun. "My," she purred, soft, the sharp angling of her fingers playing just under her chin for the whimsy of a pinky at the end of a bloodred lip. "I must not be like many other people." She spoke as if it was a teasing remark and a fact in two. The truth was never too serious. The world held too much irony for that.

She'd sculpt herself while he made his space his own, tracing a lazy finger under the rim of her jaw to free a lock of her hair from its trapping at her ear and repeat when it unsettled itself back. She kept her eyes on him for every motion, every adjustment, a painting picturesque on a wall with a gaze that follows him. It didn't bore in. It absorbed. It chewed the scenery. It ate. It roamed each tail, each peculiar tooth, and her own throbbed over the turn of her lips. She laughed. It was soundless; hollow, ringing only with the phantasm of a child's joy, and yet it rose from her breath. "It's Phantom Lord's resurrection that draws you to its streets, my dear? That's bold indeed. You don't seem terribly fond of the righteousness of Fiore."

She'd take this chance for a hand that wandered to the edge of his cart beneath this curtain of night, splaying at the ends of wood and presentation as support for the way she leaned in. She got close. Sloped, folding from her silhouette in the moonlight until even her pale melted into the shades they cast. Cooled his air with her exhalations, as only frost heaved in her bosom and only this chill she could offer him. A chill, and a smile. Curious. One blink to the next her eyes burned brighter, battling for their radiance against the moon. "Do you consider yourself a bad boy ... Skald?"

She tasted his name on her lips. It rolled off her tongue between the pop of them, something warmer - unnatural - about the red between the plush, as if a deeper pallor had bubbled to the surface. Some color for a corpse. She sounded it out, sighing blissless. "Sk ~ ald. Skald ... Ragnulf." It would almost be cute, the way it sounded in her testing voice. The skip of a pebble on a pond; but didn't that, too, sink? His name sang until it dropped. She flit her eyes from him to the skein he - or at least an aspect of him - offered, shifting her weight with a bounce of her bodice from one to another. The one no longer keeping her level with his cart lifted, caressed the drink, but laid flat her fingertips to goad it back to him. "Why, thank you, but truly ... I'm quite full. I don't think I could go for another sip." Her eyes snapped back to his. "Be my guest, sweet Skald. You look positively tired. A drink might do you good."

She'd lift herself back up - stand straighter - but her arms would cross, one a surface for the other to curl under her chin. Her eyes went half-lidded, thinking. She watched him from under the awning of her lashes, rarely blinking. "Last, but not the least, are you? How curious. You're the interesting sort. I like that."

She tapped a finger up. "Coventina. My name is Coventina. If you're sly enough, I might let you call me whatever you fancy ... eventually. Coventina serves you well for now." There came that thin slice within the darkness, splitting from her lips. A spider at a fly. In this case, however ... he wasn't much different from her. No, she could tell that much. He wasn't simple prey. She noted she she didn't see him as such - a beast? Not quite feral. Ah, what had he experienced? What had he tasted? She wanted to know. One beast to another. "You asked; 'does it bother you?' Sweet Skald, I'll answer: does the owl concern itself for the feelings of the mouse? Do we not all have our roles to play? I'm doing what I'm meant to do. I'm being what I'm meant to be."

Her tongue felt the roof of her mouth, teasing behind a white fang. Her smile remained. "And isn't that just wonderful? I know my place. Something would have to reach me up here to be so much a bother. Isn't that just right, my dear?" Her hand would shift, stretch, and a finger would play in front of her mouth - 'shhh.' "We're all just playing our roles for the performance we want best. 'Good' and 'Evil.' Even those in-between. It's always for, our, selves."


Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina] Empty Sat Apr 20, 2024 2:09 pm

The way she talked, the way she acted, every syllable of every word was carefully crafted and wonderfully woven. It reminded him of some of the soothe sayers back in his old clan, some of the story tellers and fortune seekers. It reminded him of some of the harsher aspects of life too but he had to admit that she certain carried it far better than any of them could have. The motions she kept and the way that she held herself reminded him of some of the nobility that he saw early in his life. Something he didn’t mind drawing parallels between.

I very seldom meet someone like you, yes.

A small smile, a twist of his lips and the protrusion of his own fangs. He had many, more than just the front ones but most of his mouth were filled with the stuff. Came with being a kitsune and further still almost a wild beast. Though his feral nature was deep deep down beyond any realm of actuality.

Every motion she made would and likely drive most people up a wall; he could tell the way that she did most of it was to draw attention and it worked. He found himself admiring how she kept them controlled. They were… very similar in that fashion; some of the tails as though they could sense her eyes on them would give polite little waves or stop moving for a moment; like they had their own little minds. He didn’t mind the attention of others; he welcomed it especially if it had conversation along with it. The laugh… reminded him of his clan leader. The same one responsible for the symbols on his legs and face. Though their ages couldn’t be further apart he reckoned.

I am a fan of it when it doesn’t mute the lives of the people and trample it underfoot. There have been sparse knights and their other kin that do right by everyone and are examples of what it is to be a justice wielding individual. But… You would be correct in that assumption. I prefer darker streets; especially in joya or sin where Kitsune with the wrong amount of tails are… less than welcome.

There was apprehension in his voice, there were some in either country that respected him and treated him well while others seemed to want to see him burn. It made his skin crawl and his fur bristle, a trickle of electricity danced along one of his arms, before he could look at it he felt that cold. The deepness of it was surprising and he’d blink after a moment; the smile was met with a slight tilt of his head. She had a radiance to her, a chill, but there was warmth in that coldness or at least maybe that’s what he was finding.

Mmm. I wouldn’t exactly call myself a paragon by any means…

Hearing his name on her lips not once, but thrice and even with his clan name tossed in? It brought a slight tingle to his frame; not many people called him by either. Bartender or the like was the most he could get. He’d adjust himself, tails curling slightly and one of them seemed to be resting just outside of reach of the other. At the decline of his drink he simply gave a small nod; appreciating but also curious what her choice drink may be.

It has been a fairly long day, been here since breakfast. So you could say that I am.

With him being half a foot taller than she was it was no surprise that the stein didn’t stand a chance, practically drained in two gulps of the larger kitsune. He’d set it down after cleaning it out with a water soaked rag. She was ponderous, crafty, he could feel as though he could relax for some reason. The web that she might be spinning could be dangerous to others but there was a tone that they seemed to share that made him think otherwise. He had to admit that he found her gaze agreeable with him; had to wonder what other sights she may have seen.

That I am, it’s an unfortunate happenstance I’ve long gotten used to. Heh. We both are interesting sorts- ah?

The introduction of her name brought him a slight pause; Coventina, a name that he had never once heard before. Never once had thought about but it made such sense to him that he couldn’t imagine her being called anything else. A slight clack of his fangs against one another, a swish of one of his many tails. His piercing blue eyes inspected the woman across from him.

Coventina… Hmm. I may not have ever heard a name quite like that before, but it certainly suits you.

The invitation to call her something else earned a small smile, a subtle tilt of the head forward almost as though he was nodding. The offer was received and well…

Likewise. Tis only fair.

He was making sure they had even footing, every little step of the way. She might have his last name certainly but the meaning behind his name was next to nothing to him anymore. If someone wished to have him take theirs or perhaps even do away with it entirely and leave him bare with simply just his first name… Well. There would be a darkness to that but it was enticing. He could see she understood and that made him somehow happier than he expected to be.

It doesn’t, it never will. It simply moves on to the next hunt.

A slight yet twisted view of things for certain, he didn’t seem bothered by the fact or the answer that she gave. He knew her role, he knew his and the fact that she seemed to be feeding into both made him wonder quietly how effective long term she’d be at it or how long she had been about it either.

Ah. Yet my role has changed time and time again, maybe it’s for the better now.

A hound of things, a blade of the dark, a man on a mission and a wanderer of sorts. But he felt something twist deep down, like it knew that he was even more curious about her as she spoke further. He’d lean slightly on the counter, each of his hands splayed on them, his blunted claws speaking a story. The small instances of red you could see if you looked ever so closer to them. A gentle shine as he took care of both fang, fur and claw. She knew her place, he knew his, even if changed frequently. She called for quiet and he let her have that, slightly tilting his head to one side again.

You certainly have a way with words Coventina. You’re right in every sense, hard not to agree with every little instance.

Another deep crackle, one that earned skald’s eyes to flick to where he heard it. Was he imagining things or maybe she saw it too? He’d breathe out after a moment and thought to himself… A question arose and his piercing blue eyes dragged back to her, found themselves curious and he’d smirk slowly.

And what performance would you think tonight would bring?


Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina] Empty Mon Apr 22, 2024 8:49 am

A half-smile of victory. It seems more true - almost smug, though her face was unburdened by such ugliness and no lines were drew across uncreased pale - than the slivers she'd offer before; less distant, if not warm. It quirked up with the little breath she loosed in what could have been a laugh, or a memory of one. She let him speak as she watched him - a gaze, searching, not sizing him so much as peering in deeper to each little movement and the point of each fang. She studied him. Unfurled his pages and ran her finger down each corner, tasting it with the end of her claws and a lick to turn another. She was drinking him in, in all terms.

His tails particularly bemused her. She'd never thought much of animals herself (really, that was the bottom of her food pyramid) but she had to admit the way in which he maneuvered his ... uniqueness led little to be desired. You had to give some merit to the efficiency at which you function with additional prehensile limbs. She preferred using her own hands or someone else's, of course, but time saved was money saved. She almost laughed at herself in these mullings, bringing her attention back up from a wave of a tail to his eyes. Burning in her own pale yellow, turning golden over the course of their conversation. "What is your justice, my fair friend? If not that of the Rune Knights. If even ... among these darkened streets. What calls you to them? Freedom ...,"

She let her question hang with the promise of something following, a heave of her chest dawdling her closer to the kitsune and his curious rumble. Her eyes fell half-lidded, her mouth half-open. Her breath half-alive, but her words brimming with it. Spilling over, even. "Or ...,"

She spoke so slow. Each was not a simple statement, but a command. They drew the world to a halt before her - for if she wasn't done speaking, what else could it do? What was going to walk over her? They said; you'll wait until I'm finished, and you'll be grateful for my attention. It wasn't something she did consciously anymore. It was a quality she came to expect. Besides, if someone disagreed - as she knew the night itself wouldn't, as eager as it was to return to its untroubled stillness - that would be a simple boredom. She popped her lips for her last word, a punctuation in a ripple of volume to the end of him cleaning off his stein. He had finished drinking, and she had resumed. "Pleasure?"

A wry chuckle and she drew back, having wandered in her inquisition near face-to-face, and brushed her cheek with a long finger only to dismiss the play of her words with its dismissal. "Ah, but they're the same, aren't they? The ends do no more than inform the means ... unless you feel they justify them? Ha ha ha ... There's no need for justification." She sighed off the drag of her tongue along the roof of her mouth, freeing it only to settle back in place - standing tall, though not more than him - against the backdrop of the moon. Silence enveloped her like a statue; one still peering across at him, searching. Watching. Threatening to swallow him with each part of the veil.  

"You're a funny man, Skald Ragnulf." It came as a purr. She couldn't imagine forming his name differently on that sly little tongue of hers; it had a rustic quality, something ancient and warm: something unknown to be excavated. She took pleasure in saying it. "If you think Coventina is the peculiar name of our evening." There it was again, a certain wryness. Her tone hung out to dry with an uncanny mix of apathy and interest - playing a game she hadn't gotten bored of, but knew she would. "Yours, as well," she breathes. "Fits you, darling."

She'd regard him with that same curiosity, remaining at her full height up to when a light flashes back through her eyes - a bolt of lightning, perhaps, with no thunder to warn of it - and the shadows appear to recede, leaving only her in the light of the night. It glitters down her hair and over the bare white of her skin at her shoulders. "I see," pleased. "We're not disalike in thinking, Skald. We might even be tracing the same page." Her head turned, just an inch, and it allowed her eyes to wander away to a star and return to him through a side view. They were sharper, then. Dug into his blue and the question it posed, and sought to muddy it with the weight of her gaze. "Why, my sweet boy, the only performance that truly matters - of course."

"Whatever I make of it," and she looses a little breath, frosting in the air until it dissipates in the intensity of the light and her stare. "So what role will you play, I wonder? What is Skald Ragnulf ... tonight?"

#7Brone Heavyaxe 

Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina] Empty Mon Apr 22, 2024 11:41 am

Brone Heavyaxe
A raven perches:

The day was done and the street was mainly empty, save for a humanoid fox with numerous tails at a cart; this was most likely Skald. The raven flew down and landed upon a nearby tree branch and observed from above the conversation the tall fox was having with a young woman. Initially, Huginn didn't notice the lady, she seem to blend into the shadow of the area. He had caught their introduction, confirming the raven's suspicion, he had finally found him.

The conversation seemed normal enough, nothing of the sort concerning Sleeping Calamity, so this young woman must be a client or a passerby, since their introduction proved to him that they aren't friends or even guildmates. He preened the feathers of his left wing as he wished his brother was here to identify them both, for his brother had the eyes to discern many who he looks upon, but this was simply a recon mission for the raven. Boring, but at least he was able to stretch his wings and enjoy the air of a new town.

Huginn's Reconnaissance:


Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina] Empty Mon Apr 22, 2024 11:45 am

It was a delicate dance for the two of them, but slowly through their interaction there was a semblance of understanding between the two of them that solidified into something more. He couldn’t see them being anything other than allies in any sense of the word. Directly working with one another or even at arms length; he had many of the latter and not much of the former. He could feel her peer into him; looking to understand him and further still likely trying to digest how he worked. It was something that not many people actively did and further yet even try. Many of the standard folk would be dazed by his appearance to the point of him being able to lightly manipulate their interactions but he felt no such pull that way for her. He enjoyed the studious approach she had and he hoped that she was enjoying the little ‘drink’ she was holding.

What was his justice? What called him to these streets? He’d lean lightly on the countertop, curiosity playing about his features. He saw the burning in her eyes and as her question hung in the air he felt something ache deep inside of him. A slight twisting if you would. Her coldenss was something that drew him in in a way and he’d adjust a little bit, tails bristling, ears twitching. His own lips splitting a little bit, showing off his fangs. His drink had made it easy for him to just listen and digest her words. Freedom? Justice? Pleasure? He had to admit the last one caught him off guard.

Though she seemed to desire the floor a little more in this moment, he’d let her have it with them nearly face to face. She’d be able to feel the heat of his body; something that was not surprising giving how frequently his body was crackling in response to their interaction. Something that hadn’t happened in what felt like ages. His smile grew a little bit and he felt her drag that silence over him as she peered at him again. Threatening to engulf him but he didn’t seem to mind.

Every reason being different than the other, but I don’t think it’d surprise you to learn a little bit of each goes a long way. I wouldn’t say I justify any of them or even need them to be justified. Especially when dealing with people?

That word had a funny meaning, his was more pleasant than the way she seemed to use it before but… There was a certain level of avarice in the word that couldn’t be underestimated. His piercing eyes seemed to drink every little thing she did and said in, a soft rumbling again ran through him but it was more from his chest than from the crackling energy from time to time. The way she dragged his name across her tongue would likely have driven some lesser men to swoon or perhaps even bend the knee to her but for him? He Simply enjoyed the way it sounded; not many people knew his full name and yet here he was prompted to encourage it further. A slight exhalation was what she earned from him, his eyes locking to hers not in challenge but in a moment of understanding and enjoyment.

Mm. Both suited to them if I’m to make it so bold.

He’d drum his fingers on the countertop, she had remained at her full height which if he wasn’t leaning forward on the countertop she might have been met with how tall he’d stand. The parallels she drew between the two of them earned a soft chuckle. She was a sly one, taking his question, giving an answer but leaving it to him in a role not yet defined. An elbow sat on his countertop, his hand holding up his head and one hand laying on the countertop. He drank in her gaze and returned it with one of his own. There wasn’t any malice to his gaze and he’d have to hum out a thoughtful response. There was something deep down in him that knew he was playing with a fire of some kind.

That is a good question Coventina, a friend perhaps? A companion of sorts. We’re equal parts of the same performance.

He’d stand a bit of ways up, there was the counter between them certainly and there was a challenge there on its own. It gave them a semblance of a barrier for a moment but he’d again find himself dancing on the edge of it with movements. She cast a line, he’d cast one too. A hand with its palm turned upward, for hers to take if she so desired.

I like the sound of the host, taking care of people around me is something I pride myself on.

In the stillness of the night it wasn’t hard for some people to notice things amiss but with his focus so incredibly on coventina it wasn’t until he saw the movement of the birds where he’d just simply pay them no heed. Some birds enjoyed the dark, some enjoyed the day, maybe their talking had woken up some of the ‘locals’. Or maybe they were pets out for a ‘stroll’ of sorts. His eyes had only momentarily flickered from his ‘friend’ in front of him.


Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina] Empty Mon Apr 22, 2024 7:59 pm

She wasn't so human to not take note of a kindred soul, nor was she so vain to blanch away from the idea of him being brought up to her level -- or near it, at the least. This cloud she floated along, wreathed in roses and bleeding out the shadows of closets that house uncountable skeletons, was reserved forevermore for her alone. There simply wasn't room for anyone else at her seat above the mortals, and even the gods, of this world - after all, someone needed to hold them accountable. There had to be one authority, or might the masses descend into madness before her very gaze. It was a solemn duty she took with the utmost sincerity.

A biting smile.

Still, a hand could be cast like a line. She could suffer enough of the air below her atmosphere to let someone grab and hang off her delicate, generous claws for however much time they dare hold out. It was up to them, in the end. She wouldn't let go as long as they continually justified their time in her presence, staring down with a look between bemusement and curiosity. It was when her eyes started to dull that their safety at this height became a concern: oh, but that wouldn't be a problem for Skald. No, she posited. He had too many fun little qualities to bore her anytime soon.

Besides, she was no stranger to the beasts that lie in the shape of men - what odd bedfellow, really, was a man in the shape of a beast? More efficient, mind. He had a number of more uses. She longed, briefly - yearned - to see him at odds with someone, something, anything. She thought he'd look mighty with something darker dripping from his beautiful fangs --

She caught herself, slowed her thoughts, and entwined her immaculate hands respectfully to keep them from twitching in the birth of her fantasies. "Then you understand, darling. There is nothing to stand in your way but yourself, and the perspectives that clash with your own are mere judgments of your self-assuredness." She caught on to his own particular way of referring to the 'other'; the people that, at this moment, weren't them, and weren't outcasted by either their own design or the traits they held. It made her feel ... closer, to him. A wry chuckle, silenced by the close of her lips and the slight raise to her brow. She'd shift her head to the side, watching him through the veil of hair that fell across her face. Her eyes smoldered. They were molten beneath this sin.

She'd sigh a laugh, tapping under her high cheekbone. Black and red, alternating, nails that'd crescendo on such a sharp edge. "A friend, would you be, Skald Ragnulf?" There came her purr again; and it fed a fire that seemed to smoke them in, rather than out. It burned like the topaz of her narrowed vision. She was thinking his proposition over - this was obvious, and measuring the weight of his life on the scale of her own equality.

And so her hand descended from the clouds to offer him this succor, and her arm on the earthly plane did the same when accepting the paw outheld. "If it is to be a performance, my dear, duets always earn an encore. Will you keep pace with me, Skald? I intend to ... lead," she speaks soft to him, stepping closer once the bridge of their hands is made taut. Her fingers slide over his pads, tracing the shape with a light, slow, teasing brush, and then they're to curl in at her palm and his wrist. She'd thumb across, smiling beneath the shade of her features. "Then I would see this pride of yours for myself. You have quite the guest tonight, my host. Do keep us entertained."

One ear of hers, unframed by moonlight, would twitch. Her eyes, in their vampiric sight, would catch a shape - a creature, just a birdling, and nothing to take more note of. Alas, Coventina Carmen was a covetous creature and preferred not to share these private moments where she indulged herself so. She'd tighten her hand around Skald's. Her teeth ached at the sides of her grin, and her other arm pulled in for a half-mocked bow. Proper in appearance. "I'm in your graces."


Shaken, Not Stirred [Coventina] Empty Wed Apr 24, 2024 3:56 pm

The way that the two of them looked at one another reminded him briefly of the instances that he felt this emotion before. It was distinct and something that had only made soft forays into his life. He could feel the way that she was floating along, feel the way that she was reaching down for him even though they stood oh so close. There was a sensation of understanding that no one else seemed to bear. His piercing blue eyes kept hers as long as she was willing; he could simply get lost in them.

The hand that was given to him was one that he was graced with; one that he understood this wasn’t given to just anyone. A slight flick of his tails, a slight tick or tremble of the ear. He had to wonder where her imagination between the two of them lay and where further still they might lay in the future. What sort of instances they would find themselves in. It was a concept that made him feel a strange sense of hunger he couldn’t quite explain.

A lot of the times those perspectives that clash with mine don’t do very well in environments such as this.

There was a deep rumbling chuckle and he’d nod; he understood exactly what she meant. Further yet he also knew that the both of them were quite different yet… He felt as though they might as well already have been standing next to one another for quite some time. While considerably younger than most of his ilk, he was still wise beyond his years. Her laugh once again came through the air, an easy breath of his own followed suit. He enjoyed that sound far too much.

That I would be, whatever you may need, Coventina.

He loved hearing the sound of his name on her lips, that pull that she had and the burning in her eyes he could feel as they locked time and time again. His proposition was met with a certain level of scrutiny and thought; but he felt that hand finally reach his own properly. Her fingers tracing along the pads on his fingers; earning a slight shiver. He’d gingerly wrap his hands about hers; those pads lightly brushing against her skin. Providing both touch and a deep warmth.

One I intend to sing and dance with you Coventina, don’t worry. I’m good at following and taking care of others.

The softness in his voice was unlike that of earlier, there was an eir of teasing and lean forward a bit. Gently at first he’d study her features, as though admiring a piece of artwork. He would get to see this for quite some time, but he liked to know who and what he was looking at time and time again. Especially when they were to be… this close for what could be a long night.

Then I will make sure that our abode is luxurious. As my cart is… quite lacking in that department other than drink and other succor.

Skald’s smile split his face open and with the bow that he was given, he’d wait for her to finish, following suit for his own. He had been a butler for quite some time and his polite mannerisms still carried over. He knew a place he could take her and the two of them could take their time learning about one another inside and out.

You’ll be well taken care of my Dear Coventina.

The both of them would be whisked away into the night; a lovely place for them to stay for it only a block or so away. He enjoyed leading her to it, enjoyed every little step the two of them shared. He didn’t intend to make her uncomfortable, his hand was soft and guiding; further yet it was gentle and encouraging. It would be warmth to draw her in, warmth to keep her, and like he said he’d take care of everything for the two of them. His jewels danced their tune at the tavern and led them to the hold…

Where their learning of one another would take place tenfold.


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