A break for the hunted

[Xyon_of_Calhoun]

Xyon stared at the collie, mind open wide and acceptant. Whilst he couldn't hear what was being said, something in his mind told him that an exchange, of sorts, was going on. The animal appeared to be watching him, and he had, of course, noticed the drunken man talking to the creature as if it could understand him.

Perhaps it can, thought Xyon. Stranger things have happened. his mind added, a rye smile spreading onto his face. Reaching down, he thought to pet the animal.

A'course I'm alrigh', mate. I hain't drunkennuff yet. Ya wan' me t'stay? I'll stay. But you gotta watch m'back, mate, an' I mean lit'r'lly.

"Erm.. ok." He's wasted and wants more to drink? Who the hell is this guy? Xyon's mind asked.

The question never made it to his lips, He turned, and wandered back to the bar.

[Vladimir Sidorov]

"Oi! Lassie!" He called out to another waitress. She set a stack of fresh plates on the counter and walked over to the men.

"Yes?" She was rather young and pretty, her pale face sprinkled with freckles.

Vladimir's eyes lit up; he instantly changed his coarse mannerisms "Oh my. I'm dreadf'lly suhrry, miss. My mate 'ere," he slapped Xyon heavily on the back, "'e don' know good mannuhs, 'specially 'round luverly beaut's like'm you." He raised his eyebrows and gave the waitress a childish grin. "But if'n ya don' mind, couldja bring me a coupl'a bourbons?"

"Of course, sir." The waitress fixed two glasses of bourbon and set them in front of Vladimir. He sipped one of them.

"Lor'! This is fantashtic! Bes' drink I evah had. An' I hain't jus' sayin' that. I don' joke when it come to likker." He grabbed a handful of Bishani from the stolen wallet and placed the coins in the girl's hand. "'Ere. Ya work 'ard. 'Ave yerself a good tip, eh?" Vladimir closed the waitress's hand and held on to it gently. "M'Lor', ya really gotta beautaful face. No kiddin', wot?" His demeanor grew more serious, but still kind; the girl's cheeks started to redden.

"Sir, thank you very much. I don't know what to---"

"Oh no, please. Yer very wulcome." Vladimir kissed the back of her hand and released his hold. He leaned forward to whisper something in the girl's ear, something barely audible, but it made the girl turn even redder and smile sheepishly. Vladimir sat back and winked at her, swigging the rest of his glass of bourbon after she left for the back room.

"That lass is gonna know howwa real gennel'min treats a lady..."

[Xyon_of_Calhoun]

Xyon said nothing. He just stared.

A "real" gentleman, he said. Real. Not like me, then... what am I?

Thoughts Xyon had had a lot of. He never bothered with the opposite sex much. Not that he didn't want to, just that he couldn't bear the thought of one day not being able to return home...

And how someone would tell his lady such a thing.

He shuddered, dispelling such thoughts from his mind. He hated thinking like this. He just had too much respect for women. The way Sidorov was practically forcing himself onto that one girl didn't seem at all gentlemanly to him.

Maybe he was out of touch. He toyed with the idea of raising a point about it, but thought better of it.

Unfortunatley, his voice seemed to have it's own plans.

"Real gentleman? I don't see anything at all chivalrous in the way you just treated that girl. No offense, friend, but I think you need to re-think your flirting policies."

As soon as he'd finished talking, Xyon realised he'd practically bellowed the words. The pub had gone a deathly silent, the kind of silence that is usually broken by the sound of a corpse hitting the floor.

Xyon stared intently at the drunkard opposite, awaiting a response.

[Vladimir Sidorov]

Vladimir paused, deathly cold for a minute or so. The corners of his mouth raised up and he started howling with an uncontrollable giddiness.

"Yer kiddin'. Tha's absuhlutely hilarious thar!" He continued to laugh, shaking his head as his shoulders raised up and down with each set of guffaws. Vladimir started on his second -- or rather, twentieth -- drink.

"Ya treat a lady nice an', speshully th' young'uns, she'll raise'a bed for ya in a secon'," he snapped his fingers. "Shivvary got nuthin' t'do wit' it. See, all's well an' good righ' now, but termorra' mornin', I'll be off ter anotha' pub, an' she'll be off back 'ere t'do 'er work. Nuthin' changes. Unless she's a virgin. Ay. Then ya can' git ridda' 'er. But I'm plenny shure she c'n 'andle it." Vladimir's teeth showed prominently through his grin. "Tha's 'ow we 'ave fun 'ere, mate."

[Xyon_of_Calhoun]

Xyon recoiled in moderate distaste, unfamiliar with this type of thinking.

"I hope you've enjoyed the use of your legs" he managed to say, only half joking.

The glow from the purple eyes took on a distinctly harsher tint, as Xyon's irritation and annoyance gave way to anger.

Relaxing his grip on the sword, he stood up, stretching muscles that hadn't moved in too long. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, each time to say something to the man opposite, but each time thinking better of it.

He sat down, and took another swig from the drink.

"Change the subject."

"Now."

[Vladimir Sidorov]

Vladimir, even half drunk, noticed that his companion was getting a bit testy.

"Looky, mate, if'n yer uncomf'tuhble wit' this all, y'c'n always leave. Or say somethin'. So, alrigh', alrigh', I'll quit it. Ay."

He grumbled a bit, packing more tobacco in his dead pipe and relighting it.

"I'm tired'a talkin', mate. An' alls I know 'boutcher issat yer a refuhgee an' ye'd like ter be a damn guardsman. So whaddya wan' me t'do, read yer goddamn palms or somethin'? Hon'stly."

Vladmir puffed a bit, holding the end of his pipe with his left hand this time. His sleeve dipped downward to reveal the back of his hand, on which eight numbers were crudely tattooed. Feirr was curled at the foot of Vladimir's barstool, unaware of anything but the raucous gamblers and drinkers in the tavern.

[Xyon_of_Calhoun]

Xyon forced his breathing rate to slow. despite the pounding heart in his chest. He could feel it, adrenaline fuelled as it was, pumping away with such ferocity that he could almost envisage the next five minutes of conversation ending in a rather sticky mess.

He drank deeply, slowly but with purpose, till the glass stood empty. Placing it gently back down with a 'clink' as it rested once more on the scratched bar surface, he looked at his companion.

The smell of smoke had reminded him of his desire for nicotine, so he once again pulled out his tobacco and proceeded to roll. Accomplishing this task slightly slower than the previous time, he had it rolled and lit in his mouth in under a minute, inhaling slowly and smoothly, savouring the taste and texture of the smoke.

A slight tickle developed itself in the back of his throat and he gave a small cough to dispel it. Relief flooded his body as he felt the nicotine reach his brain, and felt it's immediate mild sedative effect upon his mind. Instantly calmer and more relaxedn he turned to the man next to him, and noticed his odd tattoos.

Curious as always, Xyon resisted the temptation to enquire, since Vlad had made it clear he was tiring of conversation.

Turning back to the bar, he managed to procure himself another pint. Nobody asked for money, and Xyon wasn't too sure how to react to this, so he simply took a swig from the beer and faced his drinking partner once more.

"I'm sorry, Vladimir. The slightest thing tends to set me off when I'm tired. It's just that I've never encountered that type of single-minded pursuit of the female sex before. I'm not all that sure how to react to that type of comment."

He grinned slightly, and sucked on the cigarette once more, again enjoying the smooth blend of various tobbaccos from wherever the guy Xyon had taken it off had looted it from.

"Anyway, you say you don't know much about me... what is it you want to know?" he asked of Vladimir, still grinning slightly. The smile spread to his eyes, and the glow from them softened slightly, unnoticably.

He couldn't resist, either. The desire to know more about the one person in Marn he knew was fairly strong.

"And where did you get those tattoos?" he all but demanded, with all the subtlety of a steamroller.

[Vladimir Sidorov]

"And where did you get those tattoos?"

Vladimir felt the blood drain completely from his face. His eyes widened and his roguish smirk disappeared. He turned pale as he looked over at the back of his hand.

Feirr heard the question and instantly jolted. The dog gripped the floor with his nails, his muscles taut, the fur on his neck bristling as he snarled through his fangs.

[[That, sir, is none of your goddamn business!]]

"Easy now, Feirr. Easy, boy," said Vladimir, calmly, though his hands were visibly shaking. The man turned his attention more toward Xyon. "Why the 'ell should I tell ya, eh? Wot makes ye so much mur damn trus'worthy than any'un else, eh?" He leaned his head further inward and dropped his voice down to a fierce whisper. "An' if'n ya tell any'un that yer saw these marks, I sweah I'll huntcher down an' gut ya in yer sleep."

[Xyon_of_Calhoun]

Xyon met the man's gaze and the glow in his eyes flashed, menacingly. Intimidation had never really bothered him, mostly because so few people bothered.

"I very rarely sleep, friend. and if ever I do, be sure that I wake with sword in hand whenever need be. Further comments like that won't go down well. If you're so bothered about the marks, you should hide them better.

"Since you ask, the thing that makes me more trustworthy than most? Absolutely nothing. You can trust me more than i'd imagine most people here. But you just met me. So it's probably not best to do so.

"No pressure at all, either tell me or don't tell me. But threaten me again and we'll see who it is that ends up gutted."

[Vladimir Sidorov]

"Why you liddle---"

Vladimir tried to push himself off the barstool but lost his footing on the lower rung. Unable to keep his balance, he grabbed onto the bar and began waving his hand around in the air intoxicatedly.

"All ya goddamn bastar's are th' same," he voiced loudly. "Ya t'ink yer all bigshots, th' whole 'lotta ya. Gotcher fanshy blades an' bangin' 'em 'round on th' backs o' defenshless chaps e'erywheah. Won' quit 'til ya cut open 'bout eighta them!"

Vladimir pointed to the tattoos with an unstable finger. "Ya see this? Can' git ridda this. Can' 'ide th' damn thing, can' git ridda it. I's 'cos men like you got th' nerve t' brand us all like cattle."

His knees started to buckle, but he kept ranting. "Tha's it, thar ya got it. Kill 'em all! Sen' 'em to yer camps an' flogg'em 'til they don' got an'mer blood lef' in 'em! Tha'll teach 'em! Stick a damn glowin' iron in their eyes! Punish th' whole lot! Scum, trai'tuhs, threats ter society an' th' common man -- beat 'em senseless! Tha's it! You an' yer goddamn silv'ry badges..."

The barman charged through the back doors after hearing the commotion in his establishment.

"Vladimir! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Shaddup, Chuck'uls. Shautcher damn moufh. I 'ave ever' righ' ter be 'ere. I'ma cushtomah. I give ya monies." Vladimir spat angrily on the counter. "I'ma cushtomah an' yer daughtah's mah servah. An' Lor', does she serve me well! Takes quite a wommin ta saddisfya man like that!"

The barman's face reddened severely with rage. "Get out!"

"Oh, I betcha'd like that, huh, matey? Don' wan' liddle ol' Vladdie t' tell e'eryone the goddamn trutha e'erythin'! Ohho, Chuck'uls, I betcha'd love me outta 'ere afore I infect all yer staff with m'doctrines!"

"Get... out!"

Feirr tugged at his mate's cloak sharply. [[Vladimir, come on. Let's go. This is insane. Stop being such an ass.]]

"Oh, I'll go, Chucks, I'll go, but only 'cos Feirrzy tol' me to. Not 'cossa you, you ovahgrown, slop-eatin', mutton-faced sonuva---"

"Get out!"

Vladimir's vision suddenly got very blurry. He tried to walk toward the exit, but his legs gave in, and he collapsed on the floor of the pub in a drunken stupor. The collie whimpered a few times and licked the man's face, but Vladimir was unconscious.

"You, stranger, you take your friend somewhere else. I don't want this rat dirtying up my floor." The barman said this to Xyon with a clear, steady voice. "And it would be in your best interest not to say anything about his tattoos until he's sober. I made the same mistake once before, and it's terrible to make any sense out of him when he's tipsy."

[Xyon_of_Calhoun]

Thanking the bartender for this wonderfully advanced warning, Xyon lent his strength to the drunkard, hoisting him into the air and carefully, gently, carried him one-handed, his sword in the other, outside.

Once out, he lowered him gently to the floor, making sure he was standing and balanced before letting go.

"Well... now what?"

[Vladimir Sidorov]

[[Hopefully this will bring him to his senses...]]

The collie rammed Vladimir at the legs, pushing him into a large puddle of water that collected at the side of the sunken curb. The man fell face forward into the water, soaking his hair and the front of his tattered robes.

Vladimir blinked his eyes slowly, watching the rest of world slide in front of him and then snap back into position. He rubbed his temples heavily, groaning.

"Oof. I hain't 'ad a 'eadache like thissin years. Lor', I needa 'nutha drink or summat..."

He shook the water from his beard, much like an animal would, and squinted up at Xyon, still lying in the puddle.

"Are ye gonna 'rrest me? 'Cos if'n ye are, I'd like ter go ter prison onna good ol' black 'orse. Like Bezroth the Great. 'Afore he got 'is 'ead chopp-ed off. All noble an' all." Vladimir grinned. "I invinted th' wheel, ya know. Rolled m'way from Vros'ka ter Landes'a on a goddamned wheel, wit' this voluptuous piece'a eggplant in mah 'and..."

[Xyon_of_Calhoun]

Xyon looked down at the now very wet drunk man lying in the puddle on the ground. His gaze met the collie's, and Xyon could have sworn he saw exasperation in the animal's eyes.

He bent down, only half listening to Vladimir, and scratched the collie behind the ears as he pondered what to do next. No way could he take this guy with him to apply for a job. He'd be laughed out of town.

"No, I'm not going to arrest you, Vladimir. But I think, instead of another drink, you need some sleep."

He rose, and pondered for a moment. Great. Where does this guy actually live?

[Vladimir Sidorov]

Feirr focused his thoughts to the Xenetian, since his friend was too inebriated to speak properly.

[[You'd best take this lug to an alley, or even to the brothel. I suppose an inn would work, but I'm not so sure the owners would allow him to stay. He's a mess right at the moment; too much of a liability. Just help me get him out of the street. Then you can go.]]

[Xyon_of_Calhoun]

Xyon stopped in his tracks and stared at the animal in mild disbelief.

"Did you just.... never mind. It's not important."

He returned his gaze to the fallen figure of Vlad, lolling about on the floor.

Picking him up, he shifted his weight underneath the drunkard and proceeded down the street to a likely-safe looking spot, between two buildings. There, he lay the drunkard down carefully, and made him as comfortable as possible with an old cloak that was lying around the alley.

Settling down beside Vladimir, he tried to rest, but failed in his attempt. Too much was floating through his mind at the time.

He resolved to remain awake, to protect the drunkard whilst he slept.