"Part of a game is the prize, don't you think? The ends define what you play, how you play, and, especially, why you play."
Raphael's eyebrows were up when she looked back at him, a look of surprise and even mild shock, paired with a slightly curling grin.
"Mysterious, enchanting, beautiful- and a philosopher as well." He laughed softly- not at her, not at all mocking- just laughing because it was all he could do to express the chaotic buzz of thoughts and feelings in his chest. He hadn't expected any of this. None of what had transpired in this conversation was at all what he had envisioned when this began.
But this especially, he had not expected. For her to voice a question to which he had no answer.
Silence ensued, stretching on for several moments, almost as long as its predecessor.
Then Raphael stood, still not a word said, and walked over to the opposite side of the room and opened the cupboard on the wall. A brief clattering later, he turned back from it, holding a small bottle in one hand and two short glasses in the other.
He was not grinning, was not expressing any of his characteristic levity as he walked back to his chair and sat down in it.
There was a brief pause as Raphael looked at Sable, his face somewhere between unsure and thoughtful. Then he spoke- softly, his tone reminiscent.
"I was a fisherman's son. Every single day as I grew up, everyone who knew me, who I knew, expected me to become a fisherman."
With a small pop, the cork pulled itself out of the bottle, which then drifted from his hand, floating in the air as he took a glass in each hand. The bottle tilted, filling the first glass about halfway full with an amber liquid, then tipping up and drifting over the second glass to repeat the procedure.
His brow knitting momentarily in concentration, the bottle righted itself and drifted down to settle on the floor next to him.
He looked back at Sable, his eyes not so intense as they had been, and a gentle chuckle came from his chest. "I hated fishing. There were fifteen years of fighting with my father and hating everything about what he did and where I lived. All that time, all I ever wanted to do was leave."
He leaned forward a little, and offered her one of the glasses.
"So one day, I did. And I have been leaving ever since."
His grin was small, his eyes vaguely sad, neither as flashy as they had been earlier in the evening.
"When I'm done leaving, I'll be sure to let you know what I'm playing for."
An Opportunity, A Manipulation, and a Terror
-
Raphael Quinn
- Outsider
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Sun Jan 28, 2007 7:02 pm
- Race: Human
-
Sable Corvi
- Outsider
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Mon Feb 12, 2007 4:53 am
- Race: Human
“Perhaps we aren't so different after all,” she mused.
She was no philosopher. Just a strange, lonely young woman who had spent too much time inside her own head. It was odd, sharing her thoughts with this man. Days earlier, she wouldn't have thought such a conversation could be possible. She wouldn't have thought any conversation in which she was at all engaged could be possible, for her. It had been too long since she'd experienced real human companionship.
Not that this was anything like companionship. He was a random man off the street that she had decided to seduce. What were the odds that they might find themselves exploring their deepest secrets in each other's presence?
She sipped the drink gratefully, and to give herself time to think. He had just told her of his past, of the reasons for where he was today. It made sense for her to do the same, to explain why they weren't “so different.” Somehow, though, she couldn't.
It wasn't as though she thought he would become judgmental; he of all people might believe her story as her family hadn't. But some wounds never heal completely, and some memories should never be revisited. She couldn't bring herself to tell that, the story which, in a way, had defined her life since.
It felt like cheating, however, to listen to him reveal a sadness in his life, and to divulge nothing in return. So she opted for generalities. “I left home a long time ago, too, after...well. There was an event that made staying impossible. I've been searching for something that may or may not be there ever since.”
She took another sip, then rested the glass on her lap, her eyes following the flickering of firelight on the drink's surface. “I am not an honest person, Raphael. I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want...and I don't even know what I want.” It was the closest she'd come to confessing her purpose tonight. It made her feel strangely sick.
She was no philosopher. Just a strange, lonely young woman who had spent too much time inside her own head. It was odd, sharing her thoughts with this man. Days earlier, she wouldn't have thought such a conversation could be possible. She wouldn't have thought any conversation in which she was at all engaged could be possible, for her. It had been too long since she'd experienced real human companionship.
Not that this was anything like companionship. He was a random man off the street that she had decided to seduce. What were the odds that they might find themselves exploring their deepest secrets in each other's presence?
She sipped the drink gratefully, and to give herself time to think. He had just told her of his past, of the reasons for where he was today. It made sense for her to do the same, to explain why they weren't “so different.” Somehow, though, she couldn't.
It wasn't as though she thought he would become judgmental; he of all people might believe her story as her family hadn't. But some wounds never heal completely, and some memories should never be revisited. She couldn't bring herself to tell that, the story which, in a way, had defined her life since.
It felt like cheating, however, to listen to him reveal a sadness in his life, and to divulge nothing in return. So she opted for generalities. “I left home a long time ago, too, after...well. There was an event that made staying impossible. I've been searching for something that may or may not be there ever since.”
She took another sip, then rested the glass on her lap, her eyes following the flickering of firelight on the drink's surface. “I am not an honest person, Raphael. I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want...and I don't even know what I want.” It was the closest she'd come to confessing her purpose tonight. It made her feel strangely sick.
-
Raphael Quinn
- Outsider
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Sun Jan 28, 2007 7:02 pm
- Race: Human
Raphael was not a fool. He knew, going into this, that she was looking to get as much from him as he was from her. They really were similar, conning their way through life, understanding the nature of the game like few ever did.
He held his glass in both hands, but did not venture to drink it yet, simply staring at it. The night had become a confession for two strangers who might never repeat a similar conversation again in their lives.
The fire crackled, and he looked up at her. The more they spoke, the more beautiful she became. The more desirable everything about her was. She was not just another nameless woman- she was a level that he'd never encountered before. The way the firelight danced along highlights in her hair and cast mysterious, alluring shadows around her face and body.
"You're pretty honest for a dishonest person." His grin was small, slightly playful, but again- not like before, flashing and charming. It was more subdued.
After a brief pause, he raised his glass to her.
"To the lies we weave and truths we hide. May we someday understand what we're doing with them all."
He took a steep draught from his glass, letting the fire glow down through his body and burn in his gut. Lowering the glass and holding it in both hands, he looked at Sable again, this time without words. Just staring, unabashed.
He held his glass in both hands, but did not venture to drink it yet, simply staring at it. The night had become a confession for two strangers who might never repeat a similar conversation again in their lives.
The fire crackled, and he looked up at her. The more they spoke, the more beautiful she became. The more desirable everything about her was. She was not just another nameless woman- she was a level that he'd never encountered before. The way the firelight danced along highlights in her hair and cast mysterious, alluring shadows around her face and body.
"You're pretty honest for a dishonest person." His grin was small, slightly playful, but again- not like before, flashing and charming. It was more subdued.
After a brief pause, he raised his glass to her.
"To the lies we weave and truths we hide. May we someday understand what we're doing with them all."
He took a steep draught from his glass, letting the fire glow down through his body and burn in his gut. Lowering the glass and holding it in both hands, he looked at Sable again, this time without words. Just staring, unabashed.
Life is just a mind game.
-
Sable Corvi
- Outsider
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Mon Feb 12, 2007 4:53 am
- Race: Human
"You're pretty honest for a dishonest person."
It wasn't true, of course. She wasn't honest at all. Or she wasn't usually. Tonight was a strange, mad, inexplicable exception. What was it about him that had driven her to this?
What was it about herself that had allowed her to be driven to this?
She lifted her glass, smiling a little ironically in response to his toast, before taking a gulp of her drink. It felt good, having something, anything, in her stomach, warming her from the inside as the fire warmed her from the outside.
For a moment, then, she returned his gaze, watching as he watched her. She was used to being stared at, ogled. But this was different. This man knew more about her than anyone -- little as she had told him -- and that changed everything. Every glance, every word, every simple gesture that she would have dismissed before now spoke volumes.
Eventually, she turned her head, resting her cheek against the back of the chair, and closed her eyes, letting him stare as he wished. There were so many things she would have said if he were another man, leading, provocative, seductive words...but now wasn't the time.
Unabashed, he had no shame for her to use, nothing to manipulate. Not now that they had bared their selves to each other. Had she lost, then?
Or was it true what he had said, that they could both win?
It wasn't true, of course. She wasn't honest at all. Or she wasn't usually. Tonight was a strange, mad, inexplicable exception. What was it about him that had driven her to this?
What was it about herself that had allowed her to be driven to this?
She lifted her glass, smiling a little ironically in response to his toast, before taking a gulp of her drink. It felt good, having something, anything, in her stomach, warming her from the inside as the fire warmed her from the outside.
For a moment, then, she returned his gaze, watching as he watched her. She was used to being stared at, ogled. But this was different. This man knew more about her than anyone -- little as she had told him -- and that changed everything. Every glance, every word, every simple gesture that she would have dismissed before now spoke volumes.
Eventually, she turned her head, resting her cheek against the back of the chair, and closed her eyes, letting him stare as he wished. There were so many things she would have said if he were another man, leading, provocative, seductive words...but now wasn't the time.
Unabashed, he had no shame for her to use, nothing to manipulate. Not now that they had bared their selves to each other. Had she lost, then?
Or was it true what he had said, that they could both win?
-
Raphael Quinn
- Outsider
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Sun Jan 28, 2007 7:02 pm
- Race: Human
The silence that passed carried with it a strange peace. There was no pressure or particular need to break it, no tension begging to be broken. The fireplace glowed softly, the quiet crackling and periodic pop a mild, relaxed backdrop to the otherwise still room.
Raphael still looked at her as she broke eye contact and rested her cheek against the back of the chair. In that moment she was no longer the same mysterious and seductive woman who he met on the street. The game was not the near-savage battle of words and hidden meanings.
She looked like a beautiful, exhausted girl, too tired to keep up the front they had been playing. It made him feel like a boy again, with no clue what to be done.
The bed is right there, fool. You know exactly what to do.
Oh, that was tempting. He was unable to resist sweeping her shape with his eyes once more. She was everything to be hoped for, everything desirable in such a circumstance.
But suddenly, instead of seeing the curve of her breasts, he saw her breathing. Saw her chest rising and falling in slow, peaceful cadence, in that moment entirely trusting.
Exactly. Think of it. How passionate, how powerful it would be.
But in the same thought, he knew he would not. He could not. There were plenty of women, plenty of diversions to be found. This woman was not one of them. This night was not just another night.
He drained the rest of his glass, went to pour himself another but stopped, smiled to himself, and set the glass down on the floor next to the bottle. He didn't want anymore to drink. The idea of it was somehow... cheapening. To pass the rest of what might happen in the slightest stupor was repulsive to him as he looked back at her.
He said nothing. Only looked, and wondered what gods had conspired to bring this about.
Raphael still looked at her as she broke eye contact and rested her cheek against the back of the chair. In that moment she was no longer the same mysterious and seductive woman who he met on the street. The game was not the near-savage battle of words and hidden meanings.
She looked like a beautiful, exhausted girl, too tired to keep up the front they had been playing. It made him feel like a boy again, with no clue what to be done.
The bed is right there, fool. You know exactly what to do.
Oh, that was tempting. He was unable to resist sweeping her shape with his eyes once more. She was everything to be hoped for, everything desirable in such a circumstance.
But suddenly, instead of seeing the curve of her breasts, he saw her breathing. Saw her chest rising and falling in slow, peaceful cadence, in that moment entirely trusting.
Exactly. Think of it. How passionate, how powerful it would be.
But in the same thought, he knew he would not. He could not. There were plenty of women, plenty of diversions to be found. This woman was not one of them. This night was not just another night.
He drained the rest of his glass, went to pour himself another but stopped, smiled to himself, and set the glass down on the floor next to the bottle. He didn't want anymore to drink. The idea of it was somehow... cheapening. To pass the rest of what might happen in the slightest stupor was repulsive to him as he looked back at her.
He said nothing. Only looked, and wondered what gods had conspired to bring this about.
Life is just a mind game.
-
Sable Corvi
- Outsider
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Mon Feb 12, 2007 4:53 am
- Race: Human
The silence wasn't uncomfortable, to her surprise. It was...peaceful. More so than she'd felt in a long time. She smiled, revelling in it, enjoying it while it lasted.
And it couldn't last forever. Whatever they did tonight, whatever else they said, this would end. She would have to walk away, to hunt another night. It was how she survived. It was, ultimately, unavoidable.
Never before had she regretted that. Never had she wished that she lived a less volatile life, a life in which she didn't have to constantly lie, and hide, and run. Did she now? Did she want something more? She honestly wasn't sure. All she knew that she felt a creeping sensation of dissatisfaction with her situation. Who knew what it could grow into?
"You had a plan tonight," she finally whispered, without opening her eyes or turning her head. "You had a reason for speaking to me, just as I had a reason for catching your attention. Do you not intend to complete it? Or was your original design to sit and share a drink with a stranger? I very much doubt it."
She was not honest to a fault. She herself would be the first to admit that. But the game had been revealed, and there was no reason to hide what they both knew was there. If his intentions remained the same, then it was best to get them out in the open, and be done with it. Otherwise...she would like to know that they had changed, and to what. She wasn't comfortable unless she knew how to approach a situation, and this one was foreign to her. She didn't know what to say, what to do.
She wasn't sure if she could change that. For once in a very long time, she felt completely at a loss.
And it couldn't last forever. Whatever they did tonight, whatever else they said, this would end. She would have to walk away, to hunt another night. It was how she survived. It was, ultimately, unavoidable.
Never before had she regretted that. Never had she wished that she lived a less volatile life, a life in which she didn't have to constantly lie, and hide, and run. Did she now? Did she want something more? She honestly wasn't sure. All she knew that she felt a creeping sensation of dissatisfaction with her situation. Who knew what it could grow into?
"You had a plan tonight," she finally whispered, without opening her eyes or turning her head. "You had a reason for speaking to me, just as I had a reason for catching your attention. Do you not intend to complete it? Or was your original design to sit and share a drink with a stranger? I very much doubt it."
She was not honest to a fault. She herself would be the first to admit that. But the game had been revealed, and there was no reason to hide what they both knew was there. If his intentions remained the same, then it was best to get them out in the open, and be done with it. Otherwise...she would like to know that they had changed, and to what. She wasn't comfortable unless she knew how to approach a situation, and this one was foreign to her. She didn't know what to say, what to do.
She wasn't sure if she could change that. For once in a very long time, she felt completely at a loss.
-
Raphael Quinn
- Outsider
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Sun Jan 28, 2007 7:02 pm
- Race: Human
He grinned wolfishly again at her words, unable to help himself. Yes, he had a plan. A vivid, highly involved plan. But the grin was did not stay long, slowly relaxing away as her question settled back into the silence.
Raphael stared at the fire for a moment, and answered her, his voice easy and unburdened.
"Yes. I did have a plan. A familiar plan that I'm usually quite good at executing. But..." he looked back at her, and smiled slightly- not a grin, mischievous and cunning like before- but an expression of quiet amusement, at something yet unsaid, "I think it's fair to say that the evening has not progressed quite like I had expected."
She is willing. She is vulnerable. You can use this to draw her in.
He looked back at the fire and stared at it for a long minute.
Was she asking?
The quiet stretched out again. Then he very, very quietly spoke, as though he himself didn't want to hear,
"My plans seem rather coarse and out of place to me, now."
Raphael stared at the fire for a moment, and answered her, his voice easy and unburdened.
"Yes. I did have a plan. A familiar plan that I'm usually quite good at executing. But..." he looked back at her, and smiled slightly- not a grin, mischievous and cunning like before- but an expression of quiet amusement, at something yet unsaid, "I think it's fair to say that the evening has not progressed quite like I had expected."
She is willing. She is vulnerable. You can use this to draw her in.
He looked back at the fire and stared at it for a long minute.
Was she asking?
The quiet stretched out again. Then he very, very quietly spoke, as though he himself didn't want to hear,
"My plans seem rather coarse and out of place to me, now."
Life is just a mind game.
-
Sable Corvi
- Outsider
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Mon Feb 12, 2007 4:53 am
- Race: Human
"Don't say that." She shook her head. "Everyone...well. Whatever your intentions are or were, and I think I have an inkling, we all seek things that perhaps aren't..." She paused, sweeping a hand across her forehead. "I've never been ashamed of my own plans before, myself. But I know what you mean. Tonight is...different."
She opened her eyes, but didn't look at him. "That doesn't mean that we should regret what we planned before. You never know what will happen to change things. What matters are your circumstances when you formulate your path. And the fact that you're willing to change it, when the circumstances themselves change."
She laughed softly, mockingly at herself. "I'm not making much sense, am I? I've never been in a place like this before. I don't mean a physical place, I mean...a place in my own..." Her voice faltered, and she laughed again. "I'm babbling again. You'll have to forgive me. I don't usually talk this much. Not so openly, so honestly." Never so honestly. She didn't lie for the sake of lying, but it had become a part of her life, a necessity, a tool. She rarely answered direct questions will complete veracity, and she never spoke so freely about herself with so little prodding. Until now.
She resisted the urge to look at him, to admire his appearance as he was so obviously admiring hers. This was no longer a game of temptation, of traded glances and sultry looks. And she wouldn't make it so, much as she wanted to at the moment. She wouldn't allow herself that crutch.
"So," she continued finally, "the evening has not unfolded as suspected. Is that so terrible, do you think?"
She opened her eyes, but didn't look at him. "That doesn't mean that we should regret what we planned before. You never know what will happen to change things. What matters are your circumstances when you formulate your path. And the fact that you're willing to change it, when the circumstances themselves change."
She laughed softly, mockingly at herself. "I'm not making much sense, am I? I've never been in a place like this before. I don't mean a physical place, I mean...a place in my own..." Her voice faltered, and she laughed again. "I'm babbling again. You'll have to forgive me. I don't usually talk this much. Not so openly, so honestly." Never so honestly. She didn't lie for the sake of lying, but it had become a part of her life, a necessity, a tool. She rarely answered direct questions will complete veracity, and she never spoke so freely about herself with so little prodding. Until now.
She resisted the urge to look at him, to admire his appearance as he was so obviously admiring hers. This was no longer a game of temptation, of traded glances and sultry looks. And she wouldn't make it so, much as she wanted to at the moment. She wouldn't allow herself that crutch.
"So," she continued finally, "the evening has not unfolded as suspected. Is that so terrible, do you think?"
-
Raphael Quinn
- Outsider
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Sun Jan 28, 2007 7:02 pm
- Race: Human
He listened to her, to her voice that had intrigued him from the start. He listened what she was saying, but more- to what she was not saying. To what she was doing, but also to what she was not doing.
She was saying that it was alright- the intentions that had brought them to this place weren't so important as the fact that the intentions had been able to change.
What she wasn't saying was that they were both pretenders.
She was looking at the fire, speaking quietly, occasionally shaking her head or laughing at herself. What she wasn't doing was looking at him. Very purposefully she looked at the fire, or closed her eyes. But did not look at him.
His grin was a soft one.
"No, not so terrible."
He looked at her still, shadows and firelight playing across her face and her hair.
She was the very essence of feminity to him, at that moment. A spellbinding mystery, clothed in beauty.
He waited a moment longer, and then said,
"Well. Shall I see to the sleeping arrangements then?"
She was saying that it was alright- the intentions that had brought them to this place weren't so important as the fact that the intentions had been able to change.
What she wasn't saying was that they were both pretenders.
She was looking at the fire, speaking quietly, occasionally shaking her head or laughing at herself. What she wasn't doing was looking at him. Very purposefully she looked at the fire, or closed her eyes. But did not look at him.
His grin was a soft one.
"No, not so terrible."
He looked at her still, shadows and firelight playing across her face and her hair.
She was the very essence of feminity to him, at that moment. A spellbinding mystery, clothed in beauty.
He waited a moment longer, and then said,
"Well. Shall I see to the sleeping arrangements then?"
Life is just a mind game.
-
Sable Corvi
- Outsider
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Mon Feb 12, 2007 4:53 am
- Race: Human
He was offering her a place to sleep.
What did that mean? Any other night, she would have known. In her experience, no one did anything for free. And the price? It was usually all too predictable.
But he had said it himself. His plans had changed. So...why?
This didn't bode well, in either case. For no matter how the night ended, no matter how peacefully she fell asleep, no matter how resolutely she avoided the instinct to fleece the man for all he was worth...she would eventually wake. It would eventually be morning, and with morning comes frightening change. That which we are comfortable with in the evening becomes disturbingly real, and it must be dealt with.
And tomorrow would bring something surprisingly difficult to face, simple as it might seem. It shouldn't have been hard: just walk away, as always. Forget this, yet another encounter among many, inconsequential.
But this wasn't something she could so easily forget. This evening had broken her pattern, diametrically opposing her perceptions, her preconceptions. Who could help but be changed?
She could. She was a rock, distant, untouchable.
So how had he managed to touch her?
And yet she chose to postpone these thoughts, to let them wait until morning, when they would be harder to deal with. It is always easier to procrastinate.
Besides, she was more tired than she cared to admit. Very little would have appealed to her more then than the prospect of sleep.
"That would be...greatly appreciated."
What did that mean? Any other night, she would have known. In her experience, no one did anything for free. And the price? It was usually all too predictable.
But he had said it himself. His plans had changed. So...why?
This didn't bode well, in either case. For no matter how the night ended, no matter how peacefully she fell asleep, no matter how resolutely she avoided the instinct to fleece the man for all he was worth...she would eventually wake. It would eventually be morning, and with morning comes frightening change. That which we are comfortable with in the evening becomes disturbingly real, and it must be dealt with.
And tomorrow would bring something surprisingly difficult to face, simple as it might seem. It shouldn't have been hard: just walk away, as always. Forget this, yet another encounter among many, inconsequential.
But this wasn't something she could so easily forget. This evening had broken her pattern, diametrically opposing her perceptions, her preconceptions. Who could help but be changed?
She could. She was a rock, distant, untouchable.
So how had he managed to touch her?
And yet she chose to postpone these thoughts, to let them wait until morning, when they would be harder to deal with. It is always easier to procrastinate.
Besides, she was more tired than she cared to admit. Very little would have appealed to her more then than the prospect of sleep.
"That would be...greatly appreciated."
-
Raphael Quinn
- Outsider
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Sun Jan 28, 2007 7:02 pm
- Race: Human
There was another long moment of silence as Raphael considered saying something back to her, something clever, maybe even the slightest bit suggestive. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized those words were the ones to let the conversation end on.
The evening had become something about appreciation. For the amusement or insight gained from the whole ordeal. Or the sheltered offered and company given, perhaps. Or maybe it was just the appreciation for the mutual interest that they had expressed in one another that had been beyond the world they both lived, the world of skin-deep treachery and guile.
Raphael got up and collected the bottle and glass from the floor, taking a step to Sabel and extending his hand to take her glass also. When she did relinquish it to him, their fingertips consequently brushed. At another time, Raphael would've taken the moment to make a move.
But instead he turned and walked with glasses back to the counter, returning the bottle to the cabinent he had retrieved it from.
He then stepped to the bed, and removed from its base an extra blanket, which had been folded up and stowed there for nights when the chill was especially harsh. He layed it out on the floor and folded it over once, and the collected his coat from where he hung before, and lowering himself to the ground he laid back on the blanket, wadding his coat up and placing it under his head to act as a pillow.
From where he was laying, he brought his head up a little to look at Sable, the firelight still playing with the shadows across her features.
"Take the bed. As a token of my appreciation."
The evening had become something about appreciation. For the amusement or insight gained from the whole ordeal. Or the sheltered offered and company given, perhaps. Or maybe it was just the appreciation for the mutual interest that they had expressed in one another that had been beyond the world they both lived, the world of skin-deep treachery and guile.
Raphael got up and collected the bottle and glass from the floor, taking a step to Sabel and extending his hand to take her glass also. When she did relinquish it to him, their fingertips consequently brushed. At another time, Raphael would've taken the moment to make a move.
But instead he turned and walked with glasses back to the counter, returning the bottle to the cabinent he had retrieved it from.
He then stepped to the bed, and removed from its base an extra blanket, which had been folded up and stowed there for nights when the chill was especially harsh. He layed it out on the floor and folded it over once, and the collected his coat from where he hung before, and lowering himself to the ground he laid back on the blanket, wadding his coat up and placing it under his head to act as a pillow.
From where he was laying, he brought his head up a little to look at Sable, the firelight still playing with the shadows across her features.
"Take the bed. As a token of my appreciation."
Life is just a mind game.
-
Sable Corvi
- Outsider
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Mon Feb 12, 2007 4:53 am
- Race: Human
It would, of course, be polite to argue. No, no, I couldn't possibly. I'll sleep on the floor, you take the bed. No, really, I insist.
Nevertheless, as much as this evening had shaken Sable, she remained inherently selfish. After all, she had come with the intention of robbing him -- the least she could do was sleep comfortably tonight. It was a matter of pride.
And so she stood, stretching languidly and letting out a tiny, quiet yawn. Turning, she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder; admittedly, she could have left it on the chair, just a few feet away from the bed, but...well. When the entirety of your possessions rest inside a single satchel, you don't just leave it lying around, no matter the circumstances.
As she stepped tentatively towards the bed, though, she looked at Raphael with a slight frown. He had said something that she couldn't quite grasp.
"A token of...what? Why? I haven't done anything." That much was certain. Aside from deciding not to do her best to rob the man, she'd done no more than gladly take advantage of his hospitality. Not exactly actions worthy of thanks.
Beyond that, however, the word...it sounded wrong, directed at her. Appreciation. It didn't just mean gratitude -- it could mean...recognition. To be appreciated was to be...known? She couldn't wrap her head around it. No matter what he'd meant by the simple statement, to her it meant that he knew her; he truly saw her, as a person rather than...a monster. Or a curvaceous body. Or a threat.
Slowly, she smiled. It was nice to be known.
Nevertheless, as much as this evening had shaken Sable, she remained inherently selfish. After all, she had come with the intention of robbing him -- the least she could do was sleep comfortably tonight. It was a matter of pride.
And so she stood, stretching languidly and letting out a tiny, quiet yawn. Turning, she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder; admittedly, she could have left it on the chair, just a few feet away from the bed, but...well. When the entirety of your possessions rest inside a single satchel, you don't just leave it lying around, no matter the circumstances.
As she stepped tentatively towards the bed, though, she looked at Raphael with a slight frown. He had said something that she couldn't quite grasp.
"A token of...what? Why? I haven't done anything." That much was certain. Aside from deciding not to do her best to rob the man, she'd done no more than gladly take advantage of his hospitality. Not exactly actions worthy of thanks.
Beyond that, however, the word...it sounded wrong, directed at her. Appreciation. It didn't just mean gratitude -- it could mean...recognition. To be appreciated was to be...known? She couldn't wrap her head around it. No matter what he'd meant by the simple statement, to her it meant that he knew her; he truly saw her, as a person rather than...a monster. Or a curvaceous body. Or a threat.
Slowly, she smiled. It was nice to be known.
-
Raphael Quinn
- Outsider
- Posts: 44
- Joined: Sun Jan 28, 2007 7:02 pm
- Race: Human
He watched the smile form across her face, slowly. Not sly, not beguiling. It was warm, real. It came from within the body, not something super-imposed on the surface of it.
"You became something you normally are not," his smile was an small, relaxed expression, "and it let me do the same."
She stood there, near him and the bed. It was impossible for Raphael not to see her as a beautiful woman, one who he did desire, in some ways now more than ever, to know in an intimately physical nature. She was beyond something sensual and mysterious-
She had become something that no person had ever been in his life before. Someone who, in this moment, he wanted to understand and believe him. Someone whose thoughts about him mattered.
It was nearly frightening, being semi-exposed in this manner.
He smiled again, his fingers interlocked behind his head, holding it up. He nodded toward the bed.
"I am... glad to be able to give you something back."
"You became something you normally are not," his smile was an small, relaxed expression, "and it let me do the same."
She stood there, near him and the bed. It was impossible for Raphael not to see her as a beautiful woman, one who he did desire, in some ways now more than ever, to know in an intimately physical nature. She was beyond something sensual and mysterious-
She had become something that no person had ever been in his life before. Someone who, in this moment, he wanted to understand and believe him. Someone whose thoughts about him mattered.
It was nearly frightening, being semi-exposed in this manner.
He smiled again, his fingers interlocked behind his head, holding it up. He nodded toward the bed.
"I am... glad to be able to give you something back."
Life is just a mind game.
-
Sable Corvi
- Outsider
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Mon Feb 12, 2007 4:53 am
- Race: Human
She nodded slowly. She supposed she understood what he meant...although she had been under the impression that it was he who had allowed her to open up, and not the other way around.
How often, she mused as she moved towards the bed, do you meet someone who has such an effect? Someone who connect with you in a way that allows you to truly see yourself, not as you display yourself to others, but as you truly are?
She shook her head. She wasn't thinking coherently. But how could she? How could one put words to what had happened within the two of them that night?
The sad thing was that it could not last, much as she might want it to. Such revelations could exist within an encounter, within a contained period of time, but it was too much to hope for that they might carry forward. To remove the mask for a time wasn't easy, but to completely throw it aside? Impossible.
She sighed, almost inaudibly, as she pushed the bedcovers back; and then she sighed again, in something akin to relief, as she sat on the bed. Sleep was so close. And not just any sleep. She had slept in comfortable beds before -- but never, in the past several years, without the burden of having manipulated her way into them, or the danger of being chased unexpectedly out.
For the first time in a long time, she would sleep...free.
Slowly, she pulled herself under the covers, and laid back, closing her eyes. "Thank you," she breathed, and she had, perhaps, never said anything with more uncorrupted sincerity. "Thank you."
How often, she mused as she moved towards the bed, do you meet someone who has such an effect? Someone who connect with you in a way that allows you to truly see yourself, not as you display yourself to others, but as you truly are?
She shook her head. She wasn't thinking coherently. But how could she? How could one put words to what had happened within the two of them that night?
The sad thing was that it could not last, much as she might want it to. Such revelations could exist within an encounter, within a contained period of time, but it was too much to hope for that they might carry forward. To remove the mask for a time wasn't easy, but to completely throw it aside? Impossible.
She sighed, almost inaudibly, as she pushed the bedcovers back; and then she sighed again, in something akin to relief, as she sat on the bed. Sleep was so close. And not just any sleep. She had slept in comfortable beds before -- but never, in the past several years, without the burden of having manipulated her way into them, or the danger of being chased unexpectedly out.
For the first time in a long time, she would sleep...free.
Slowly, she pulled herself under the covers, and laid back, closing her eyes. "Thank you," she breathed, and she had, perhaps, never said anything with more uncorrupted sincerity. "Thank you."
-
Korhos
The world of night was the undisputed master at this hour. Aside from a few alehouses and other establishments whose doors knew no closing hour, a profound silence reigned. The chill night breezes swept in, bringing with them a hazing of clouds that took turns passing before the moon and stars, casting even deeper veils of darkness across the city.
Outside of the clothmaker's workshop, the shadows that stretched out from the alleyway that ran behind it seemed to somehow shift into a deeper, more malevolent degree of dark than possible on this plane of existence. Squeaking rats abruptly ceased their chittering and vanished into their holes, bringing the most eerie stillness to the vicinity. The night breeze gusted, more frigid than it should have been.
Everything that seemed light grew dim. All that was darkness shifted deeper and more impenetrable.
And the beast slid out from the shadows, its movements too smooth and fluid for a natural creature, its walk to purposed for a wandering animal.
Korhos knew its prey was here. The fool who stole from its master, days ago, did not realize that the amulet he had stolen was a magical device. One that the creature's master could easily scry and locate.
One that Korhos could easily seek out.
Entirely silent, the massive demon wolf slinked to the base of the stairs and ascended the first flight of them without even making the boards creak. Its breath condensed thickly around its slavering maw as it paced to the second flight of stairs and crouched at their foot.
If the demon could have effectively separated its thoughts from those of the wolf with which it was fused, it might have been enraged to be used as a tool like this, hunting down some worthless rogue for petty theft.
But all it could think of was the warm smell of a fresh kill and the crackling of bones in its cruel mouth. Whatever the demon-half might have thought, everything in its nature loved the killing. And the great wolf-half had not eaten in days. A brief sniff at the step revealed to the beast that not one, but two humans had last gone up these stairs. Its stomach gurgled slightly and more reeking saliva dripped from the mouth.
Korhos gathered its legs beneath it, corded and rippling muscle standing out in its shoulders and flanks as it readied itself. It could sense its quarry, beyond that door. Completely unaware of its encroaching demise.
And then with a great leap that spoke of terrifying strength, the beast sprang completely up the stairway and smashed into the door.
Outside of the clothmaker's workshop, the shadows that stretched out from the alleyway that ran behind it seemed to somehow shift into a deeper, more malevolent degree of dark than possible on this plane of existence. Squeaking rats abruptly ceased their chittering and vanished into their holes, bringing the most eerie stillness to the vicinity. The night breeze gusted, more frigid than it should have been.
Everything that seemed light grew dim. All that was darkness shifted deeper and more impenetrable.
And the beast slid out from the shadows, its movements too smooth and fluid for a natural creature, its walk to purposed for a wandering animal.
Korhos knew its prey was here. The fool who stole from its master, days ago, did not realize that the amulet he had stolen was a magical device. One that the creature's master could easily scry and locate.
One that Korhos could easily seek out.
Entirely silent, the massive demon wolf slinked to the base of the stairs and ascended the first flight of them without even making the boards creak. Its breath condensed thickly around its slavering maw as it paced to the second flight of stairs and crouched at their foot.
If the demon could have effectively separated its thoughts from those of the wolf with which it was fused, it might have been enraged to be used as a tool like this, hunting down some worthless rogue for petty theft.
But all it could think of was the warm smell of a fresh kill and the crackling of bones in its cruel mouth. Whatever the demon-half might have thought, everything in its nature loved the killing. And the great wolf-half had not eaten in days. A brief sniff at the step revealed to the beast that not one, but two humans had last gone up these stairs. Its stomach gurgled slightly and more reeking saliva dripped from the mouth.
Korhos gathered its legs beneath it, corded and rippling muscle standing out in its shoulders and flanks as it readied itself. It could sense its quarry, beyond that door. Completely unaware of its encroaching demise.
And then with a great leap that spoke of terrifying strength, the beast sprang completely up the stairway and smashed into the door.