<font color=darkslategray><font color=slategray>Day: 32 Month: Mia Year: 81378 (4) Notably, I won't always write this much. Don't feel intimidated by this post, as I don't expect - or even neccessarily want - for anyone to match it. =3</font> There, clutched between his clawed hands, was the body of a young qereniatha. There was a strange, almost puzzled look on the face of the pendragon. His oddly colored optics – the color of wet sand – were full of concern and horror. For the neck seemed to be bent unnaturally, the tiny creature dead even as he grasped it carefully in his paws. Clutched between talons that could rip a beast apart, yet didn’t so much as pierce the skin of the deceased creature he now held. Tears formed in the young pendragon’s eyes, and tumbled mercifully towards the carcass, caressing the pink skin that showed beneath a light dusting of fur. The only sign that it did indeed possess fur was the fact that a splotch of black, in the shape of a cross, was oddly emblazoned on its left haunch. Not a tattoo, like the one pressed onto Incubus's own hipbone, but truly an odd marking. He had killed something that had been shaped by the gods, made with such a symbol naturally interwoven into its pelt. What a horrific sin he had committed, albeit unintentionally. Then the qereniatha stirred. Incubus woke up from the dream with a gasp, head snapping upwards, teeth bared slightly as sharp talons slid out of their sheathes, scoring the sheet that had been draped across his legs. Luckily, he had kept them restrained enough that they didn’t tear into his own skin. A soft growl grumbled in his throat, reaching out of his vocal cords with something akin to relief. That day had been strange. His eyes flickered to the spot beside his bed were a miniature one had been created. A small bundle of fluff was wrapped around a blanket therein, snoring softly as she slept. It was a relief to see that Decore was still breathing, the steady rise and fall of her stomach enough to reassure the pendragon of her safety. Relaxing, and resheathing his claws, Incubus sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled. The dream – actually a memory – was not one that he cared to relive. While it wasn’t horrific, ultimately, it had been the beginning of everything. Long, nimble digits reached up to rub against his eyes, though they really pressed against the eyelids, and rubbed carefully to soothe away the start of a headache. Though he was colder now than he had been at that point, the male still had a strong bond with the qereniatha that had been his comrade for many years. In fact, the catlike beast that lay curled up in such a blissful sleep was his only companion. Nimble fingers reached down and gently rubbed the head of his pet and friend, easily massaging between the ears. Even in her sleep, the qereniatha nudged her head upwards a bit, a rumbling purr thrumming through her stomach, and extending to the very tip of her nose. With a slight sigh, the assassin jerked the lower half of his body, arching his back so that his legs were slung over the side of the bed. No reason to try and go back to sleep now. Fingers flickered to the bedside table and procurred a cigarette from within. Long fingers easily drew it to his mouth and the slightest flick of a lighter had it ready. Pressing it to his lips, the pendragon paused. A sudden look of disgust entered his eyes as he slammed the butt of the newly lit roll into the glass tray set nearby for just such a purpose. Anger flashed through his eyes as he stalked across the room, grasping the neck of a guitar between his fingers. The slightest nick was visible near the bottom. Incubus growled softly in agitation. It hadn't been there the night before and he was sure Decore hadn't made it. Incy licked his lips carefully, eyes narrowing quite considerably as his bare feet stepped silently on the cold floor. If there had been someone in here, he would have known it. Sensed it in every fiber of his body. Some animals slipped beneath his radar, though. Those were the sort that were harmless. Like the rodent that was likely to have gnawed slightly on the guitar before spitting in disgust at the taste that it would have received. Designed for just such a purpose. So he didn't wake up with rat droppings all over his place. Every piece of furniture was similarly nasty tasting, layered with a goopy stuff known simply as "Gnawless". Thus it had been named by its creator. Namely, one of his acquantinces, known equally simply as Chemi. Remembering the dream abruptly, Incubus's upper lip curled backwards in a half-snarl. That had been back when he was so childish, it was funny. His eyes suddenly caught sight of the rodent who had chewed at the musical instrument and the slightest, almost silent whistle, had Decore awake. The night-bright eyes of his comrade were obvious to him, but the rodent was sleeping, its own chest rising and falling. Her ears twitched as she approached, whiskers swiping across her face as she stalked forward. Without warning, the catlike lady started to run, and pounced abruptly on the skinny frame of her victim. Teeth dug in and death was instantly upon it. Decore picked up the deceased vermin and trotted over to her bed, dropping it within, glancing quickly at Incy. Incubus nodded and walked easily towards the door. Without even looking, he grabbed the heavy set of knives that were set on a peg by the door. Holstered therein were three heavier knives, and at least ten lighter, throwing knives. There was also a strange bone object that would be hard to place. As it was unique, however, Incy avoided using it. No reason to draw attention to his kills. He had other knives, too, of course, they were just hidden elsewhere on his form. The knives had a strap that ran across his chest, hanging them all across his upper body. Like a gun holster, except it held more weapons than that terran object had. Pulling on a leather jacket, he glanced carefully at Decore, who padded gracefully after him. Jangling a collar in front of her, he frowned carefully. <font color=slategray>{I know, dear, I know. But I don't want you shot for that pretty hide of yours. If your owned, at least they'll think twice.}</font> Though she merely gave him a reproachful look for his words, Incubus knew she was going to listen to him. Dec' knew it was neccessary. Lowering her head, she dipped it so that her head slid through, ears flicking forward as the leather collar bound itself loosely around her neck. With a grateful scratch of her head, the assassin walked out. Ah, a new day was just beginning. His favorite time to be out and about. Though Bhim was never silent, it was especially great at other places. Another cigarette was lit and smoked as he walked. Boredom alone brought him to do so, not habit or need. After all, he was immune to its addictive touch. The untouchable one, untracable. Impure beast of experimentation. Not that he knew it. All he knew was that it didn't work. He never went to la-la land when he smoked, drank, or did drugs. It was just because he wanted to that he did it at all. Boredom
<span style='color:gray'> OOC| Xestri's Anthro Picture might give you a better idea of what I intend for her to look like in this Roleplay. ^^ The link is in my signature. IC| Not far out into the Black Market of Bhim, or, for that matter, that far from the home of the assassin that draws nearer, stands a wall. Nothing special, just a low, red brick wall. Upon this wall, sat a petite Pendragon femme, quite feline in nature. At this particular moment, only the back of this femme could be seen, long tresses of an icey blue-turquoise rolling down her back, a few strands getting caught in the gentle morning breeze, and blowing this way and that. The part of her back not covered by a layer of azure hair is a crisp and ice-cold white, lined with pale blue stripes that greatly resemble icicles. Lower, around her hip area, a pair of black trousers can be seen, seemingly quite baggy for such a small Pendragon. Just above the jet black material, protruding from the bottom of the females spine, a long tail has sprouted. It follows the pattern of her body - an ice-cold white with pale blue stripes. Though the tip, is larger, and quite fluffy, contrasting the rest of the thin tail. It looks as though it has been dipped in a tin of black paint, and from a distance can be easily mistaken for a tail-flame. Thus, the female is often spoken to as though she's a male. Oddly though, she doesn't mind - taking it as a compliment. She'd have loved to have been blessed with a flaming tail. Not as a male though - perhaps to have been a mutation? This thought always brings a grin to her muzzle. How cool would it be to be a mutant? She wasn't given the usual gifts, like flaming tail tips, or wings. Though, hidden under stripey fur, three gills rest on either side of her slender neck. Perhaps that was the gift she was born with. Oh well, no matter. Even though it would be pretty damn interesting to have a more common mutation, like a lot of other Pendragon's she had seen, Xestri was quite happy with her gills. They were the cause of her love of water. Hearing the footsteps of others, the petite Pendragon soon turns her head slightly, ears perking up. Her black nose twitches a little, trying to pick up a scent. If she were like most others, she'd have simply looked behind her. But, with Xestri, that has never been the case. Turning her head a little more, one eye can be seen - a side view of her cranium. This eye is like her other, and is quite shocking at first sight. It's appearance is odd - but explains her sight situation. Both of her eyes are pupil-less, and are a frightfully pure, pale blue. This particular little Pendragon is blind.</span>
<font color=darkslategray><font color=slategray>out of character Thanks for hopping in... and sorry for the delay in a reply, was on vacation. ^^</font> in character Incu's fingers twirled the cigarette in between his fingers, easily allowing the ashes to fall on cobbled ground. It was hardly going to hurt the streets of Bhim to have a bit of that on it. No doubt it received plenty of it, day in and day out. There were so many drunks, drug users, and smokers around here that more than just cigarette ash was probably left on the ground. He had even seen a whole sack of drugs, once, abandoned by some stoned and careless beast. Either that or it had been left to be picked up by another. Unfortunatly for that pendragon - if there had been someone it was being delivered to - the assassin had picked it up. Had plucked that bag off of the stone and continued walking as if nothing had happened. Later he had sold it, due to the fact that it wasn't the particular type that he liked. He was a rather picky one, though he had no right to be, seeing as he wasn't touched by the effects of such things. Nor would toxins have harmed him. It felt so wrong, too, that he was so "perfect", though everything was flawed. Fingers flickered to a pocket in his pants, pulling out a lighter that he flicked on in one, fluid motion. The flame flickered to life and swayed back and forth in front of the male's odd eyes, then faded as he let go of the trigger feeding it fuel. Ah, no, there hadn't been much of a purpose in that. It had merely appeased some inner pyromaniac hunger to see the flickering of life once more flashing across the surface of a cold steel box. Maybe there was something more sinister than that to it, but it was of no consequence, ultimately. Decore padded along beside him, ears laid back in silent agitation, the weight of the collar something of shame to the white pelted qereniatha. She hated to wear it. It wasn't what she was. She was no one's pet - not even Incy's. Much as she liked the male, if she had decided to up and leave him, the assassin couldn't - and wouldn't even try to - stop her. Perhaps there was something strange about his movements, something deadly. That was often seen in Bhim, so it shouldn't have seemed odd. Yet it was. Something lethal about the current movement of forepaws, different from how it was, normally. Due to the night, his eyes were a pair of black-shuttered circles. Something that blended in well with his pelt - with the night. His favorite time of the day. Maybe that was it. There was something jovial in his steps, as he moved toward some vague destination. He had been thinking about going to one of the many bars around here, sitting down and smoking, waiting for something interesting to happen. Like a brawl, or something. Life was getting so dull with nothing to do. Recently, he hadn't even had any jobs. Mostly because he hadn't been looking. He caught sight of the striped lady far before she seemed to notice him. The slightest twist of his head was given as he observed the younger pendragon, seated upon that wall. He had seen it before, naturally, but he had never paid much attention to it. No reason to. Very few used it for the purpose that seemed obvious as she sat there. Mm, well, he would never sit there, but it seemed an innocent enough place to be perched. Who was this one, though? She didn't seem to have the hard edges of a Bhim resident - or, even, of the sort that would come here to plan an assassination. So what was she here for? At about that point, her head turned, and he noticed that she was blind. That allowed his interest to go up a bit. No way he could evade talking to her now, though, she had obviously noticed his quiet approach. <font color=black>"Salutations and good evening..."</font> He murmured softly, words that were entirely the gentleman.
<span style='color:gray'> ooc| No worries, I noticed that you wouldn't be here for a while in the Absence Thread. Oh, and I apolgise for my posts, as they tend to continue getting shorter.. I'll try to keep them worthy of yours. (: ic| Small, icey white head of the feline turns a little more at the sounds of softly spoken words. Indeed, they were that of a gentleman. Gentle, and very poilte. ~But, you musn't judge all on a pretty voice, Xestri..~ The small feline thought to herself, with a sly smile curling up on one side of her lips. Thick, deep blue hair, seemed to swing around in one long, flowing movement, as the small head turned slightly to one side - to get a better 'look' at the approuching male whom had just spoken. Though she cannot physically 'see' through her two regular eyes, most believe that there is a third eye within one's forehead. Xestri believes this too, and when someone is in front of her, it is as though she can see them. An image of the person is etched into her mind - so she has a rough idea of those around her. After a moment's hesitation, finding it difficult to 'see' anything at all in the dim light's of Bhim, she finally speaks. Tones are gentle and innocent - though friendly and up-beat. The delicate smile continues to play across ivory muzzle as the petite feline speaks. "Evening, M'Lord."</span>
<font color=darkslategray><font color=slategray>out of character Tsk, tsk, your posts are excellent. :3</font> in character Ah, how his nature twisted and turned. Like a snake, it was poisonous, but also quite capable of other emotions. Somewhere, deep down, he was truly a gentleman. In truth he tried to make his kills as painless as possible. Mostly because he could hear their screams if they weren't, but partially, also, just to ensure that no one else would hear them. He was good at his job and wasn't about to mess around by being caught. Sometimes there were perceptive beasts that sent off a mindscream but he was long gone before anyone had responded to such a distress signal. Even then, he could mostly remove the call of horror that rang telepathically. Cut it off before it went too far. As it was his thoughts were far from murders. He had no intention of killing the blind lady that he had chanced upon. His body shifted slightly, weight moving from one limber, lanky leg to the other. Arms stretched forward, then rested laxly at his sides, waiting for them to be needed. Fingers itched to toy with something, but in vain, for they were merely ignored by their pendragon master. Though normally he would have given in to the temptation, he wasn't in the mood to accidentally frighten or threaten this she-dragon. It would seem impolite, and he was playing the gentleman. He had to stay in character, after all. There was a friendly tone to the other's words - something, perhaps, welcomed by this male at this point in time. Other times he would have been disdainful, perhaps disgusted, but this seemed innocent enough of a response. That was what would have normally raised his hackles, yet it seemed appropriate for the striped lady before him. The slightest shake of his head, fingers flickering up to run through bladed locks, before a reply was made in turn. <font color=black>"How do you fare on this fine night?"</font> He inquired, still playing that courteous card.
<span style='color:gray'> "I fare fine, M'Lord. And yourself?" A light chuckle could be detected within the feline's reply, words rolling off of delicate tongue in a soft manner. Quietly she turned further, until kneeling upon the wall, leaning to one side. Indeed, she did not want to appear rude, speaking to the male with her back turned. Long, deep azure tresses follow the flow of her movement, as the feline soon sat perched facing the male at a 45 degree angle. A few, thin, singular braids run down the deep bangs of hair, here and there, silently shining as they catch the dim light that hangs above. As the small 'dragon turns, baggy, jet black trousers that hang dangerously from her hips, somewhat hang from the wall in certain places, and a small vest of the same colour can be seen tugging at her torso - not much larger then a bra. Resting delicate white fingers in her lap, she awaits a reply form the oddly friendly gentlemen that had approuched her moments ago out of nowhere.</span>
<font color=darkslategray><font color=slategray>out of character Shoot, sorry for the delay. >>;</font> in character <font color=black>"Well enough, though things seem to be looking up."</font> The other pendragon seemed somewhat amusd - a thing that interested the assassin to a small degree. What was there to be so jovial about? This was Bhim, land of the outlaws, the criminals, the darkest of the dark. This was where they all roamed. However, the white-and-blue lady before him didn't seem much like any of those things. In fact her appearance showed someone innocent and untainted by blood. Was that, indeed, what the other pendragon was? Someone who had accidentally managed to get here. Or maybe she was a young noble, hoping for some adventure. More than likely she would end up with her throat slit if she thought that she could just wander the streets of Bhim without being touched by some vile creature or another. She was pretty enough, too, he supposed. Being rather devoid of emotion, the sharp murderer didn't much care. There were others who would happily have their way with her, though. Just because they wanted to - because she was on their territory, with their laws. Incubus narrowed his eyes as he noticed what she was wearing, a thing that actually surprised him, though it didn't show. Was she even more crazy than he had initially thought? Surely she was not-quite-right in the head. No Bhim resident would wear anything like that. They would be subjected to whistles, sure, which might seem flattering. When the whistler grabbed you from an alley, though, it got considerably less desirable. Incy just shook his head slightly, talons clicking out, then sliding back into their sheathes. It wasn't his duty to warn every fool of their danger. After this meeting he would probably find out if she had someone seeking her death, though. Not keeping an eye out for her. He might even take up the job if he didn't find her worthy of any sort of protection - something he could offer a bit of, but never had.
<span style='color:gray'> "Looking up, hm? How so, if you don't mind me asking?" Small feline 'dragon that sat so innocently upon the wall appeared quite intruiged by the gentleman that stood before her. How could anyone that resided in this dark little hell hole known as Bhim see things looking up? Stripey female had indeed ended up here by accident, as the blind are never 100% certain of where they are going. And this particularly delicate little pendragon was a wanderer. Curious as to where she was, and where she would be travelling next. Though somehow, to her great dissapointment, she had ended up in Bhim's Black Market. Hightened sences could feel the presence of danger here, the sheer darkness that lurked around every corner, and in each damp and putrid smelling alley. Lacing her features with a smile was the only way that the visually impaired feline was pulling herself through her time in Bhim. And she was only still residing there, as she was quite unsure of how to get away. But, surely she'd figure something out soon. A light shiver runs down thin spine, lasting only a second, but showing how cold the small one was. Nothing she could do about that though. She was un-prepared for nasty, cold Bhim. But then again, she wasn't aware that she'd end up here.</span>
<font color=darkslategray>in character <font color=black>"Why of course I don't mind a pretty lass like you asking. Things are looking up because I have fine company and my life is just generally appreciated. Why shouldn't I be content?"</font> The male 'dragon was quite content to be where he was. Most wouldn't be able to comprehend why anyone could see things as looking up in Bhim. He had resided here for much of his life, however, had resided within the home he now owned. He could be a gentleman, assuredly. He knew very well how to use his charm to make others do what he wanted - without realizing they were doing his will, not their own. It was a helpful trait, quite frequently, actually. The pendragon shifted slightly, stretching the muscles in loose arms and legs, to make sure that they remained prepared to defend him at any point. Ready to let him bolt if the need arose. The assassin shifted slightly where he stood, too. To make sure that his body was still as capable as ever. The courtly assassin noticed the delicate shiver of his current companion and a faint frown curled his lips downward. That wasn't good. The other appeared to be cold, out here. While he was accustomed to it, she obviously wasn't wearing enough to last out here in the rather cold enviroment. He glanced at his own leather jacket uncertainly. There was no way he would give it up to a stranger. That would be in keeping with his gentleman manners, but it was his, and he didn't want to risk her finding some of the illegal objects within. Fingers snapped together slightly as he peered up at her, suddenly forming words that would, possibly, be greeted with approval. They could get into some place warm. <font color=black>"Are you cold, milady? There is a tavern nearby that would certainly keep you warm - I could buy you a drink. If, that is, you would like."</font>
<span style='color:gray'> ooc| Sorry I keep taking so long to respond.. >.< ic| Shurgging lightly at the males first query, a light shiver runs down the polar feline's spine once again. Was it getting colder, or was she just imagining it? The gentleman didn't appear cold, oddly enough. Though, he did keep shifting in his stance.. Why was that? Perhaps all character's in Bhim were just naturally shifty. The scythed female wouldn't have suspected anything less.. But her current company appeared friendly enough. Kind enough to invite her to a Tavern? How good of him. Pockets contained a few gold coins - she would be able to buy them each a drink or two. A bonus, to add to the warmth of new surroudnings. "Indeed M'Lord, I am quite cold. The Tavern sounds like a nice idea.." She smiles softly, pushing herself down from the wall to stand opposite the gentleman whom she'd been conversing with. Feline was frightfully small, reaching heights of 5 foot or so, perhaps an inch higher.</span>
<font color=darkslategray>in character - <u>incubus nekhashi</u> It was natural for him to ask if she wanted to go to the tavern, like an old friend inquiring if his pal would like to get a drink. Not that he thought of her as anything more than someone newly met, simply that it was something he did all the time. The best places to "hang out" arond here were the taverns. Nowhere else had anything interesting to do. It was cold, outside, during Mia, anyway, so there was no reason to stay out here. Unless warm drinks were held in their hands, of course, which they weren't. Even if she insisted that she wanted to stay outside, Incubus was going to go get something to drink, regardless of her wishes. Would even buy her something warm to keep her from freezing to death. As she jumped down, Incubus nodded slightly and peered quizzically at her, wondering if she was going to be able to follow. Now that the thought had come, the assassin decided to voice it, to see what her response was. To see if he would have to hold her hand - loathe as he was to do so, seeing as it would represent a relationship they didn't have. <font color=black>"Can you follow?"</font> A simple question.
<span style='color:gray'> Telepathic ability born into all female pendragons scanned the gentleman's mind gently, feeling his loathe for the possibility of needing to hold the small one's hand. With a light smile, she shook her head, pupil-less pale optics focused quietly on him. "I can follow. My other skills are quite hightened.. I'll follow your footsteps. Or your scent. Whichever's stronger." She grins ever so slightly at her own words, in realization of what she had said. Slight embarrassment in features shows how she hopes her company had not implied that she meant.. He had a strong smell. Indeed he didn't, but would he think that? Either way, scythed feline chose to keep quiet, ready to follow. A drink would certainly warm her up.</span>
<font color=darkslategray>in character - <u>incubus nekhashi</u> Hands shifted slightly, barriers swiftly thrown up as he felt her touch his mind with her own. Who the heck did she think she was, doing that? It could've gotten her killed, elsewhere. The assassin shook his head slightly as she spoke, but he shrugged. Without a verbal response, the criminal did an about face and started walking toward the Spiked Dagger. Incubus didn't care if she was trying to insult him with her words. It didn't matter what she thought of him, anyway. Decore walked beside her master, mostly ignored through this conversation, though she didn't mind. It was better to be ignored than to be watched by the female pendragon. The qerentheia didn't particularly like being observed by others, besides Nekhashi himself. They were just too... worthless, in the eyes of the catlike beast. As they arrived at the tavern, Incy opened the door to usher Xestri in, ever the gentleman. <font color=black>"After you."</font> He murmured, to make sure she understood.
<span style='color:gray'> Nodding once more, the small one ushers into the Tavern, curious thoughts running through her mind. This gentleman and his catlike company had a certain ora about them, and not one that she was growing fond of. The pair, to her, appeared arrogant in their own way, as though better than any others they were to meet. As the so-called gentleman had thrown up barriers to his thoughts, her mind had recieved a loud bang, like doors being slammed in one's face. Telelpathic scanning wasn't something the young one had mastered, and so she could not control it - other's thoughts would just pop into her head hear and there. Not really her fault.. But, no matter. They were in the Tavern now, and he wouldn't have to 'look after' her. Numerous coins resided in black pockets, and she would be able to buy herself a drink. The gentleman would no longer be needed. Oh, come on, Xestri. That's not the right attitude.. He may not be the nicest of male's, but he has provided warmth, along with a friendly converse. Her own mind debating, head is soon shaken lightly, a hand delving into pocket to produce a few gold coins. Silently she directs pupil-less gaze to her company, taking a quick look at the qerentheia, then back to him. Xestri wasn't about to let them run off without payment in return for bringing her here. "What're you drinking? And, the critter? I'm sure they'll sell me a saucer of milk, or something."</span>
<font color=darkslategray>in character - <u>incubus nekhashi</u> Decore stalked carefully alongside her owner and friend, peering back at Xestri in distaste. The qerentheia didn't particularly like their company. Just because she wasn't getting a good vibe from the other. There was something hostile about the air of the other and it made the hair on the back of the catlike beast rise up in protest. Incubus didn't particularly care what Xestri thought of him or his qerenthia, ignoring the fact that the female pendragon probably didn't like him much. Oh well, he had tried, had been polite and gentle in every way. Had never been overly rude, outwardly, though he thought that she was a bit of an irrititance with her prodding into his mind and the like. The assassin didn't allow others to brush against his mind. It was rude, in his opinion, and he had done nothing to gain her animosity - or to give her enough free rein to touch his thoughts. The assassin sauntered into the tavern after his company, receiving odd looks from those that knew him, to which he sent mental hisses to keep them from commenting. They all quickly returned their eyes to their drinks, seeing as no one wanted the animosity of Incubus Nekhashi. They all knew what happened to those that irritated him a bit too much. His eyes flickered to Xestri as she spoke, a thin smile gracing his lips that was amused and polite at the same time. Though he did have to stifle a few interested thieves that glimpsed the girl's gold. Obviously she wasn't used to Bhim. <font color=black>"Ah, now, lass, we can provide for ourselves."</font> Incy replied with a slight nod that seemed politely grateful for the offer, gesturing at the bartender and giving him a couple of silver coins (he never used gold whenever possible, it drew too much attention). <font color=black>"We'll have the usual and no matter what this young lady says, we're paying for her too, Krispin."</font> The burly pendragon nodded, looking expectantly at Xestri for an order.
<span style='color:gray'> Suit yourself.. The small feline thought quietly to herself, tucking coins back within her pockets. She could feel the gazes of potential thieves upon her - 'twas a good thing that she studied the art of escape. She highly doubted that anyone, especially her company and his creature, had any idea how intimidating it felt to be blind. How alone one feels without the common gift of sight that others take advantage of. And even though she would not except it, she was often suprised at the immense lack of sympathy that was brought with her disability. Most had just assumed she could care for herself - which indeed she had grown capable of, other senses hightening and evolving quickly, as to adjust to her visual impairment. Suddenly, the small one felt not like a drink. The hostile air felt compressing, the gazes of numerous others on her. Why did they need to stare? Especially this bar tender. Could he not see her pupil-less optics? Perhaps he too, was blind? These feelings often wrapped around her, constricting her like a mythical, invisable serpant, trying it's hardest to squeeze her to death. Shaking her head gently to the bar tender, 'gaze' averts to the flat surface of the bar. The drink was un-necessary now, the simple atmosphere within the Tavern enough to near drive her back out into the cold. Though, this would appear somewhat stupid, and almost definately rude to her company - something she did not intend on. And so, she contined to sit on her stool at the bar, the scents of different liquers and exotic ciggarete smokes, most likely many of them enhancing and stimulating drugs, filling her head slowly, and crushing her into what felt like the smallest of tortured creatures. Surely this other was bored of her now. If not, angry, for her accidental trace of his mind. She should've taken up telepathy in Janardan Academy, so should could control it. Though it was something born in all females, 'twas definately something she'd rather not have. Mainly due to cases like this, when it got her into trouble. Her company had thrown up barriers to his thoughts, just indicating his annoyance, and they had hurt. The loud, cut-off signal ran through her mind violently for moments after, and perhaps that was to blame for enhancing the sounds, smells and pressure of her surroundings. A headache. Simple, but nasty, and he'd caused it. But of course, she were to blame, for having read his thoughts in the first place. You stupid thing, you. You should be able to control idiotic abilities like telepathy. I bet it's gone and gotten you into trouble.. Well, at least it's given you a headache. Just what you deserve. Her thoughts seemed to yell at her loudly, showing just how mad she was at herself. She'd gone and made an idiot of herself. If only she hadn't gotten lost, and ended up in this black hole in he first place.</span>
<font color=darkslategray>in character - <u>incubus nekhashi</u> Incubus was used to this tavern, to the way that it smelled and looked. Everyone stared at newcomers to the bar, whether they be frequent visitors or newcomers. Those who had been seen here before were disregarded after a customary glance. While Incy wasn't drawing any attention because he came here often enough, Xestri was an unknown component. All of Bhim was wary. That was how they survived, after all, was by being careful. Therefore there was no reason for them to stop staring because it was termed impolite. In fact, considering the professions that most of them had, they would probably do it on purpose, uncaring for the manners of "cultured" beasts. Eyes focused intensely on one of the males who was peering hungrily at Xestri, however, a sharp mental hiss sent the way of the improper other - one that Incy recognized as Teyck and the other pendragon knew it, lowered his gaze because he knew of Nekhashi's reputation. Krispin peered quizzically at Incubus due to the fact that Xestri hadn't ordered. A light shrug of his shoulder was given, dismissive fingers waved at the bar tender, eyes focused intensely on the blind she-dragon. What was wrong with her? There was a lack of ease that was almost palpable, that made the other criminals drawn to watch her. Because she was so obviously uncomfortable. That was why they all focused with glee on the displeased lady. If she hadn't been with him it would be like flies drawn to honey. There would have been many would-be thieves on her at once, perhaps someone would accidentally bump into her and offer her a drink - one that was drugged. Or they would offer her drugs by themselves or mere alcohol. She was a minor, but that didn't matter, not here. Underage was something laughed at in Bhim. Anyone could have a drink or smoke if they felt like it. It didn't matter if they were seven years, they were permitted to do whatever they wished - within thin limits, that was. The assassin wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, now that they were in the bar. He wasn't her boyfriend, nor did he desire to be such a thing. Besides, he didn't care for her, really. It was just some accidental company that he had picked up off of the streets. Now if she had been something other than the seventeen-year-old innocent that he saw before him, there would be possibilities. However, she was what she was, and there was no changing that. The fact that she seemed rather out of it made him irritated, though. What was he supposed to do about it? An assassin that had no desire to coddle or comfort her, not really. Seeing as Decore didn't particularly like her, it was hard to even focus properly. The other seemed more than just disconcerted, however. It seemed, in fact, as if she might have some amount of pain. An eyebrow shot upward, body leaning back quite casually against the back of his seat, fingers curling idly around the cigarettes in his pocket, though he didn't take one out. If he had been alone, he would have, but Incy felt that he should at least as if she was doing ok. It seemed right, somehow. <font color=black>"You alright, lass? Want some water or something? Maybe a pain killer?"</font> The male pendragon inquired rather politely, with a tinge of curiosity and light concern for the state of his company.
