It was just another November morning at the Inn.

The Gypsy was sitting inside at a table, cup of coffee at her side, though the rest of the place was....

Deserted.

But it wasn't technically deserted, he was there sprawled belly bottom atop a rafter with an arm dangling over. He was somewhat sleeping but an ear kept notice of occurrences when need be.

Tilting her head she delicately licked the tip of one finger to better grasp an old and brittle page. Carefully turning it she shifted in her seat, the tick-tock-tick of the clock filling in the silence. She had a lot to learn, Vera mused to herself, one hand reaching blindly for the porcelain mug of cream laced coffee.

Funny, the Gypsy had been here for a while now but she hadn't picked up on anyone else within the Inn. Then again she had all her mental blocks on full, so, there ya go.

"Needs more sugar ...." Mutterings towards her mug, amber eyes narrowed down to cat like slits in contemplation. "Bother."

He let out a groan, easily rotating without falling thanks to his ever cradling abyss. He let out a puffed sigh, golden hues glancing up at the ceiling before they angled down at the woman. He stared for a moment, tousling his onyx locks before rotating without assistance and making a soundless landing upon the floor. He remained close to the hearth, taking a lean against a worn couch while he stood dangerously close to the fire.

Caught up in the old, ancient text on Greek myth and lore Vera slowly stood up, almost without looking from her page. The Gypsy was in utter bookworm mode; her movements slow as her thought process ran rampant. So much so that when she finally turned on her heel with the intentions of doctoring up her coffee she nearly let out an impressive Valkyrie screech.

"Sweet mother of God! Where did you come from!?"

He didn't flinch at her screech; rather he cringed at it almost giving her an unwelcoming snarl before he shook his head. He pointed up towards the rafters, his gaze settling on her. "There."

Deep voice sounded so rich without rasp for being asleep more than a day. A tilt of his head and he examined the woman, head to toe, taking in all of her features before he moved his gaze back toward the fire.

"Didn't mean to frighten you. My apologies."

The Gypsy wasn't looking like much a real gypsy these days. She was dressed rather simply in jeans and a black sweater that fell nearly to her knees. Tawny hair was left like wild ivy vines to trail down her shoulders and back, a bit darker with the coming cold season. Blinking, amber eyes briefly met the more gold hue of his, still wide and startled.

"Oh ..." she breathed a bit lamely around a laugh, a hand moving to press against the center of her chest. She felt foolish, letting her guard down so easily. "It's fine! Your fine, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scream your head off ..."

Looking up she blinked for a time. "I forgot about those ..."

Yes, a bit dumbly now.

"Hmm..."

A blur of black and he was within inches from her left side, golden hues staring intently from their peripherals. He kind of coiled about her, making a full circle before he stopped to face her. He wasn't much for manners, nor did he respect personal space.

Probably because he had no idea what either of the two meant on his bad days.

A shaded tendril withered beneath him, surfacing from his natural shadow and angling itself beside his chin bouncing to and fro like a cobra ready to attack.

"You're rather...beautiful."

It was all he said before he brushed past her, taking in a good whiff of her scent before heading toward the bar in need of something to burn that wicked throat of his.

Swallowing the gasps that threatened to burst from her lips she took a few small steps back, not that it did much, only have to step forward again, back once more with him right in front of her again! Talk about some complicated dance maneuvers. Tilting her head she in turn gave him the same examination, though more politely from beneath the veil of her lashes.

"Thank you ...."

She cleared her throat to hide more of her surprise, feeling a touch out of her depth. "I'm Vera." She didn't ask for his name yet, hoping he would get the hint. Curiosity, her biggest fault to date, had her trail behind him a few steps.

Careful, cautious it was the name of her game. If you wanted to be fastidious.

It was much too hard to swallow the grin that threatened to taint such innocent features, but he managed only allowing one corner to creep its way causing a smug smirk to form. He had poured himself a glass of whiskey, but who could tell with all of the blur and faded grays moving about behind the bar. One could describe movement, but that was it. Everything became much more solid as he moved in front of her again, extending a sweeter coffee her way and taking a swig from his whiskey.-

"You may call me Elis."

He gave a warm smile, too fake for the mood he was in. But he restrained himself from scaring the woman, because have it his way and there would be no talking involved.-

"Lovely to meet you, Elis."

She didn't have to work much on saying names, though her accent still filtered out, drawling more than maybe it should. Vera didn't hesitate on taking the coffee but she didn't exactly start drinking from it either. She wasn't born yesterday though she didn't sense anything ....exactly malicious from him.

Menace yes, he exuded power and danger, no doubt.

Firmly she kept her blocks up, the tip of her tongue peaking to swipe across her bottom lip, eyes darting briefly away while she gathered up her thoughts more.

"It's been quiet here, huh' I've been stopping in every few days and I haven't seen any of the old gathering ..."

Small talk, irritating for most but it had always proved to be informative for her.

Elis didn't have small talk on his mind apparently. With that same blur of motion he had displayed earlier Vera found herself in his arms, lips crashing down to seize her mouth. He didn't do more than that, just pressed himself close, testing the waters, tasting just a part of her.

What the hell"

The Gypsy would have to hand it to him; he had quickly acquired the knack for knocking her off balance and in just a few minutes of them meeting. This had to be a record — or she was becoming soft. The only problem that soon enough ozone sprung up in her senses, her mental blocks crashing down to read for the first time signs of his aura. Gasping she wrenched her head to the side, the coffee mug he had given her crashing to the ground, spilling everywhere but somehow missing them.

She wanted to scream, she wanted to run far, far away and maybe never return.

What she did do was quickly step back, her hands up and pushing against his chest. "Now, that isn't polite ..." she sneered, amber eyes flashing before she banked the fire. "You usually take a girl out first, a dinner and a dance."

"People spend too much time on courting and not enough having fun."

It amused him that she didn't try to smack him or cause physical damage, it would've been pointless to do so. But he did love how she touched him, his chest rumbling due to the approaching growl that quickly faded when he took those hands and began giving them kisses to her palms.

"Did you not enjoy it?"

Golden hues as mischievous as ever, but still maintaining an innocent appeal. He only removed his gaze for a minute to look down at the coffee, giving a soft "tsk" before looking back to her.

"Would you like another?"

He didn't exactly elaborate on what kind of another he meant either.

It was all very once upon a time when Vera once would have acted on the kiss, when she would have demanded more in return. She had indeed spent far too much time having fun and forgoing all preliminaries. But life was short, mortal life especially. Shaking her head she tried to extract her hands from his but she knew enough to know, he wouldn't release her until he was damn, good, and ready to.

Swallowing she inhaled deeply, giving herself kudos for not trembling. "You are rather beautiful yourself, so, enjoy it' Of course, I am but a woman but alas, I fear I find that there is a certain elegance that can be found in courtship."

She quickly decided to not let on the certain knowledge she had retained from that kiss.

"Coffee?" She ignored his further innuendo, old hat at this.

"Please, it seems mine has spilled ..."

He did let go of her noting the breath she took to calm herself, well enough only to step back a few feet and perform a breath taking bow without flaw. His head lifted only as those golden hues rested on her once more, the devilish grin concaving into a gentlemen's after introduction.

"My apologies, m'love. I can very well court you, if that's what you fancy."

Still bowed before her, he extended the same hand that played with her locks in a gesture of invitation.

"Will you join me for another cup of coffee, without so much sugar?" Even though he was putting on the show of a gentleman, he still couldn't help his flirtatious joking.

Friend or foe, the Gypsy considered the offered hand before with just a hint of hesitation she slowly placed the long fingers of her own within its grip. The sensible part of her brain told her in no uncertain terms this was a bad bad idea. The other half reasoned it wouldn't help to make a new, powerful enemy.

Besides, he was only flirting, it wouldn't be so bad to flirt and smile in return.

Right"

Smiling and shoving away her misgivings she took a small step forward, "I prefer more cream than sugar but I enjoy the sweet more than the bitter."

The beating of wings disturbed the stillness of the day, trees bending and dust lifting. For a moment, the sun was blotted out, stealing the light from the yard of the Inn, but just for a moment. Looking the picture of elegance and innocence, the small drow made his way up the stairs and into the room, heading towards the bar and a drink.

"Ah...so we have a date!"

He said a bit excited, curling his slender fingers over her soft hand and leading her toward the bar. He gestured for her to take a seat while he let go of her, making way toward the bar break and rummaging up two cups of coffee the way she preferred it once more. So as not to make her feel uncomfortable again, he moved behind the bar to take lean in front of her. He set the coffee mug before her, adding a stick of cinnamon to his and stirring.

"So Vera, tell me about yourself" Children" Husband?"

Well, he was taking this a bit more serious, thought the Gypsy with much amusement. Picking up the coffee mug she blew softly across the surface, taking a cautious sip while she considered her own response. Foolish to hand out information so easily but doubly so to lie to someone like him.

"Never married despite a few offers, I have one child, meu fiica. Ah, a daughter," she clarified for him.

"Yourself?" Bracing her elbows on the counter she mirrored him, eyes darting to the ...Drow" My, my, what company she had this fine chilly day. Slowly she gave the Elf a nod before her attention went once more to Elis.

"You look young to have any children though ..." trailing off she smirked, "...looks are soooo deceiving."

He began to nibble on the cinnamon stick, a habit as a child which made him appear very boyish. He laughed at her comment of deceiving looks, nodding his head. He was well over a thousand years, but that he kept to himself.

"No children, nor wife. I have a bondmate, but that is all."

He said the word so casually, adding an equally mundane shrug to go with it. He took a sip from his coffee as well, headed nodding toward the drow before his attention drew back to Vera.

"A daughter, you say' She must have the looks of her mother, indeed. And I am quite...young, in certain aspects."

Feeling eyes on him, the Drow shivered slightly and turned, lips twisting into a smile. Brilliantly white teeth were seen, every other one filed to a razor edge. Standing, he dipped into a formal bow before taking his seat again, slender fingers wrapping around a bottle of wine.

"Bondmate?"

Now this was information! Vera had a slight problem — she was the proverbial Eve and everyday she did her best to eat from the Tree of Knowledge. Excitement flashed in her eyes, her lips finally curling into a true smile.

"I have heard of such things but never have I had the chance to speak to someone about that aspect of relationships. Where is your bond?" She didn't immediately call him out on his flirtatiousness, especially since she didn't yet know any details.

He blinked at her excitement, eyes widening at what seemed to be a mistake that he let those words out. A soft sigh as he continued to nibble on the cinnamon stick, occasionally dipping it for coffee flavoring.

"Ah...she is probably in the woods wandering, she can't be without guard at any time. But her breed can only mate with one and I was that one."

He shifted his weight, angling up and letting his hip lean into the bar as he took a sip of coffee.

"I bound myself to her for her protection, so in a sense it is a mutual relationship. But she knows of my "tendencies" and accepts them."

He figured he would explain the flirt without her asking, but summing his relationship into two sentences did no justice to their actual situation.

This brought a brief halt to her thought process, her head canting as she took in his explanation. Words like breed and protection were filed away for later. Drinking more of her coffee, she narrowed her eyes, already cataloging what books she would need to search through.

"Mmm, so, your together for both protection and procreation' But no children ...?"

She felt a bit cold suddenly and shivered, her mind flashing to Alyssa. Maybe she would need to talk to him more, careful to keep that track of thought from her face.

"Eh...children."

He shivered, shaking his head of the thought and setting down his mug. Lips thinned as those golden hues lost a bit of their chroma from that word, it wasn't one he was too fond of.

He had yet to digest the fact he would need to sire children eventually.

"I bonded to her, at first, for emotional reasons. It worked in our favor that we are of somewhat same race which needs to be carried on. She is also being hunted by a man that seeks her womb for procreation as well, so I bonded myself for her protection when she needs it. The man that seeks her does not have good intentions, so Arya will remain within my care until he is dead."

Stifling a large yawn, the Drow blew a long sigh, willing smoke to roll from his mouth. With a flip of his hand, the smoke formed into a glass and a small fruit, the glass poured full of wine and the fruit nibbled at. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the bar and murmured to himself.

"L' ust d'lil vaen..."

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that for your bond ..." Strangely, it reminded her of a scary time in her past. Again she thought of Alyssa and cleared her throat, information filed away and stored in all the necessary places.

Pointing she asked, "Is that good with coffee?"

The Gypsy could be compassionate enough to change the subject. And did the Drow just say ....Lust' Blinking she peaked at him again, waiting for Elis to respond.

Words fell out of his mouth, heavily accented and sounding like rain drops in a pine forest, a haunting, threatening melody, "The first of the last is what I said." Again, he had felt the eyes on him.

"My native tongue. A thousand apologies."

He greatly appreciated the change of subject, the recent happenings all to fresh and hardly digested. He knew well what the Drow said, but did not know the exact purpose for saying it. So he continued the conversation casually, breaking the cinnamon stick and handing her a piece.

"Very well actually, almost like sugar but with a twist. And no apologies toward...my bond. I did what was necessary."

He looked toward the Drow, asking for more clarification.- "Would you mind explaining?"

Shrugging, the Drow said "Explanation. This is not a word that I fully grasp, and it would be pointless to try. Suffice to say that I spoke for another set of ears. There are ears that hear the whispers in the dark, more so when they are spoken by a rogue drow."

Dipping his head to the man, he lifted the glass and tasted his wine again.

"Oh no, its fine! I tend to do the same myself."

Small smile for the Drow, taking the cinnamon with a dubious air. Sniffing it, Vera stuck it gingerly into her coffee, swirling the darkly colored liquid, only lightened by the cream. Pulling it out and watching the drip drip drip of her coffee she took an experimental nibble, her tongue caressing before her teeth took a bigger bite.

"Mmm, very good!" Approved the Gypsy, once more repeating the whole affair. "He is right you know?" Vera had some past dealings with the Drow and sometimes, she could still understand a phrase or two. But considering it had been a Drow female ....well. It wasn't a pretty story.

"Yes, I know. My sister is half drow, she was kind enough to teach me the language."

He nodded agreeably with Vera, smiling at her approval of the cinnamon. He looked toward the door for a moment, looking beyond it into his void where he could clearly see the color changes of nights approach.

"I should be leaving, Vera. I need to find Arya."

"Right. Also another word I do not fully understand." Another shrug, the bottle rising again, the Drow's lips mimicking the smile. Another sigh, and another puff of smoke fell from his lips, a dainty finger drawing the picture of a small book. With a snap of said finger, the book became real and floated down, settling on the bar.

"I understand Elis." He wasn't a bad sort at all! Nothing like Andor, who was closer to him than she would ever let him know. Then again if he ever met Alyssa ....well. Delicately she stuck her hand out to him, meaning to shake his. "Pity are date has to be cut short." She joked with a brilliant smile.

"Such a pity, indeed. I'll be sure next time around to be more prepared for your questions, perhaps I shall bring Arya and you may witness our bond in person?"

He guessed she would probably like this idea, remembering how excited she was to hear of it in the first place. He took her hand and gave her a tender kiss, finishing the goodbye with another wonderfully done bow. He gave another nod toward the drow, hopping over the bar and heading toward the door.

"Oh yes! I would love to hear more."

Much, much more for a variety of reasons.

Watching him leave for a time before turning the full force of her amber gaze on the Drow. The males were so much more tame then the females. Like a child she asked, "What are you reading ...?"

Rolling his shoulders back, he stood and paced towards her, dropping the book on the table. A single red hand was emblazoned on the front, the same as the one he wore on his chest.

"It is a list of guests. I own a shop and I was curious to see who had signed the register. And before you say much more, there are preconceived ideas about my race. I am only half a drow, and only a drow when I prefer to be. In honesty, I am a fully mature shadow dragon."

Stupidly she gaped up at him, wondering if he was a mind reader. No matter! If so, she tweaked her mental blocks a bit, wrinkling her nose with a teasing grin.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything ...rude."

Not completely anyway. Pulling the book towards her she looked through it with some interest,

"What sort of shop?" One day she herself wanted an Apothecary and was training for it in fact ....by herself.

"It is new and in the docks. It is my house and it is a..gathering place. Information is bought and sold and given. Along with odds and ends I have collected on my travels and items from my homeland."

Flashing another smile, he tipped his head and brushed his hair aside, removing a circlet with a large black gem set in the middle.

"I am in my war gear today and it gives me a rather unfair advantage. Again, a thousand apologies."

The gem that could catch thoughts was dropped into a pocket.

"Funny you would say that. My...mate runs an apothecary. Small world, is it not?"

Eying the circlet with an almost avarice gleam in her eyes she quickly hide in the veil of sooty lashes.

"Really' I should stop by and see what I may learn from an observational view point."

She was still in the minor leagues though when it came to such things, very good with herbs and strong wards, weak on everything else. Indeed, her own bangles and circlets had stones of topaz and amber, great for the protection and luck side of things. She didn't have anything to help her read anyone's' thoughts.

Plenty enough to deal with the buzz and current of life energy.

Lowering her blocks just a bit, she took in the taste of his, her eyes once more flashing to his face. "I'm always on the lookout for information, you can never have too much, eh?"

Shrugging, he said "One learns so much through magical means, but one also learns much from simply observing. In my line of work, observation is key. And this is where I stop confessing for fear of seeming...dangerous."

A thoughtful sigh escaped his lips as he ran a finger over his chin before he spoke, saying "Information is the difference between an animal and a civilized creature. But yes, do stop by. I have collected many things, strange things."

He was a Drow - alright, only half a Drow. Anyone would take one look and say, now that guy might be a bit dangerous.

Thankfully he couldn't catch this thought, her grin flashing, "Do you have a card or can you give me some directions" I work mainly in the Rhydin Library these days ..."

Ironic, no"

He smiled again, that sharks smile, full of razor teeth before he folded his arms over his chest, the armor sliding over itself, rustling slightly before he said, "I do not have a card and it is only found by chance. I can..guide you there. I can give you an....item of sorts that will lead you there if you ever wanted to go. It would not hurt." Here he chuckled, the sound of water bouncing off rocks.

"Depends on how much you trust a drow."

"Male Drow" Oh, about a thimble full."

She joked, her grin saying as much while she took a lean in her seat, eating the rest of her cinnamon stick, followed by a sip of her coffee. Ah, the vampires had it so wrong — coffee was the Life, not blood.

Strong, dark, and caffeinated to the max.

"Female Drow" Not just no, but hell no! Eh, no offense to your mother or anything ..."

Quick to say, her brow wrinkling a bit.

Pale red eyes shifted, an almost angry flash settling into them. "I killed my mother. And my four sisters. I have no love for the drow. They hunt me and they hate me for those crimes and for my nature. I am an agent within an organization of no minor fame, one bent on the destruction of Lloth and..well that is enough of that."

Again the hand rested on his chin. "I am not sure why I am telling you these things."

She hid her smile behind another sip of coffee, savoring the flavor for a moment. Vera had something unique about her that no spell or charm could provide — people just opened up to her, of all varieties. She would have made an excellent spy, had she a taste for such things. She always reasoned it had something to do with life energy and how it was attracted to her. It also made her attractive to all types of nightmarish creatures, her lips taking on a wry twist.

Clearing her throat she gave him a nonchalant shrug, "I'm just one of those types, I suppose."

Reigning in her blocks she set them stronger, her fingertips now toying with the edges of his book, her own forgotten tome left on a table a few paces back.

"Would I have a chance on meeting your mate at your shop" And what can you give me, to help lead me there?" Change of subject, her tone light and airy.

"No, her shop is not my shop. Hers is the DarkStar apothecary. She is often here though."

Smiling again, he inhaled sharply and blew out, willing another cloud of smoke to come from him. Patting it, he took a glance down to her feet, then back up to her eyes.

"It can either linger near your feet or it can be inhaled, only coming out when you would like it to. Either way, if you command it to find my house, or myself, it will lead you there, just once though." This time the smile was a little less reckless, a little more genuine.

Now that was a nice bit of varja, magic. Looking down at her own feet, clad only in her socks because she had left her shoes at her table, she wriggled her toes.

"Truly' But once you know the way, do you forget?"

The Gypsy knew the game, her gaze lifting to him, sly and mischievous.

"The house is a rip in many planes. It is linked to my...home. And I do not mean Ched'Nasad."

The smoky glass was raised; the wine emptied as he thought for a moment and added, "That all depends. If I want the person to return, they will remember the way. If I do not, the door will still be there, but it will be sealed. And breaking that seal would result in a highly upset dragon."

Once more she lowered her blocks, her eyes briefly closing while taking in another taste, smelling ozone in her mind, her skin shivering from a burst of electricity, current. She made a stronger note, feeling as though she might need it for later. It was different from Elis' of course — they were different creatures. Of course only she was aware unless he too had the Talent.

"Fascinating!"

And she meant it, finishing her coffee while she considered another one. "Dragon, you say' You didmention you are mostly dragon. You are of the rare type, I can see, that can assume a humanoid appearance. You prefer to appear as a Drow or is this something you can't control?"

Shrugging, he waved a hand around the room and said, "I fit in poorly as a Drow, but I would literally not fit well in this setting. When I travel, I either use the smoke or fly. Back to the point though...I was born a Drow, gifted with the ability to shift. And the dragon that chose me was a rather large one. I would stretch the length of a few city blocks. Not fitting for a room. Rare" Yes. Shadow dragons are not common."

Pacing back to the bar, he took up a bottle of whiskey and made his way back to the table. It would appear this Drow also had a drinking problem.

Most did, Vera was not one to judge. She had her problems in the past. Having a daughter did help change that, her whole being set to protect this other half of her. She got up as well, wandering to the carafe still filled with coffee. Pouring herself a new mug she added a stick of cinnamon.

Clever Elis. Not bad at all for ....what he was. She took a seat at his table, feeling more than hearing the tick-tock-tick of the clock.

"I know," she amended, "having met a few dragons though most aren't up for socializing.

Though I suppose it would be hard to try, when you are a few city blocks long."

Smiling she played with her cinnamon stick. "Shadow dragon' Truly?"

Nodding again, he smiled and said, "Truly. As black as night, scales the color of darkness, wings the color of nothing, or so the stories say. On Faerun, there was only two."

At this point he laughed, the first real laugh, the sound oddly similar to water running across a reef. "I spent much of my life alone and almost forgot how to talk. I left Ched'Nasad and made my way to the surface at a young age, and 172 years later, I am here."

"Wow! I can't even begin to imagine that..." she murmured, taking another drink of her coffee, tilting her head. Thinking she bounded up and rescued his book from the bars counter. "Here, don't want you to forget this."

Dipping his head, he offered a half grin and murmured 'My items find there way back to me. So long as I draw it in the smoke it will come back to me. A thousand thanks, just the same."

Spreading his hands, he showed her empty palms, a sign of peace, and said "It was...peaceful."

A man outside starts to play an instrument and the sounds of a guitar filtered through even from the outside, making Vera turn her head towards the door. Blinking she rolled her shoulders into another shrug, her body shifting into a relaxing slump.

"I would hope so, though I doubt I could ever really understand." To be frank she wouldn't have the many years he did to even try. "Peace to me exists in only a moment, usually found while I'm reading."

Another shrug, each motion carefully practiced and executed. "A row might see fifteen hundred years. A dragon might see fifteen thousand years. I measure time in centuries, not minutes. And as such, peace is hard to find. But when it is found, it tends to last. I have found a small measure of peace here, but it will be shattered soon."

Now, that statement carried more than its share of misgivings, her brow wrinkling. She may be a Gypsy but she didn't deal in visions or prophecies. She didn't measure out lines in a palm to dish out warnings or good tidings.

Drinking her coffee she finally said, "Why do you think its going to be taken from you, your peace?"

"There is no think. I am hunted and I have been located. I do not care that they are coming, but others might."

The Drow was, oddly enough, a terrible liar and it showed. "My crimes have been so heinous that she would reach her eight legs across the planes to have me back."

Ah, yes. Funny how she could forget that awful lore — and the Goddess that drove it.

Shifting in her chair again, trying to find a comfortable spot, she shook her head. "You seem very capable to me, you might have to put up a fight but I bet you come out all right. It might shatter your peace but ..." words failed her for a moment, her breath pulling in sharply. "This is about your mother and your sisters, huh' That means ..." Female Drows, descending on the very boardwalks of their city.

"You know, it might not just be your peace that is shattered ..." Mutters.

"Oh no. It will only be my peace. I mentioned before, I am an agent. To a human, each drow is an assassin. For a drow to call another drow assassin is another matter. She can send her minions, they will die. I am worried that she will move on someone else that is less capable. I can not be with her each day." The rand raised, fingers drumming on his chin before he said "For me" I am dragon kind. I will not be harmed."

Both brows rose, her nose twitching, fear slowly uncurling in the pit of her stomach, "From what I remember of most females," meaning the Drow, "they'll be entirely focused on the task of hurting you, or getting to you. But," The Gypsy stressed this word, her face frowning now, "everyone else in the way, or perceived in the way, is fair game."

And how did she know it!

"It won't matter if the person in the way is anything to you, they'll take them, take them or kill them. So, I'm very serious when I ask you this; how many' I do have a daughter and ya know, I would like to take some precautions."

Raising an eyebrow toward the woman, he whispered, "You are telling me things I know. I have stood in front of the spider queen and laughed. She will be more careful, the Jeazred is more powerful then anyone can ever dream."

Shrugging again, he said "They will not even get there. I will meet them on my plane if I can But there will be nine."

He stood in front of a dark Fae Goddess and laughed" Man had balls of brass. Looking into her mug, she thought maybe Irish coffee would be better for this conversation. Without asking she reached out and snatched his whiskey, pouring herself a generous drop before giving it back.

"Nine" And you think you can keep them from wandering our streets" I sure hope so, but nine is quite a bit ....I mean..." She took a deep drink, the alcohol a new found burn on her tongue. Lovely.

"Isn't that extreme for a couple of deaths" What else did you do ...?"

This time the laugh was sarcastic, razor teeth shown again. "I have killed nine thousand or so of them. Nine is not an issue. And yes, it is extreme. I laughed at her, this is a crime. Murder, this is a crime. I created the war that destroyed my home city. I am a member of the Jeazred and I wear it openly. There are more, but they are pointless, yes?"

His hand dropped down, resting on the shimmering, dark red hand on his chest.

Oh, sure, for a dragon that must have just been another day at the office. She took another deep swallow of her new Irish coffee, still carrying the hint of cinnamon.

"Glad to see you so confident but you did mention that there is someone you can't be around twenty four hours. I take this to mean your mate?"

"Yes. That is what I meant. And while I normally pretend like I know all of the answers, I do not know this one. She has a powerful family and I assume that she will be fine." The shrug was only really half of the normal one this time and hurt floated over his face, accompanied by an ever rarer emotion.

Confusion.

Calculation flared for a moment in her eyes, quick and assessing of the situation. She rolled her shoulders and neck, easing the new found tension. Vera was not fond of Drow females, her back still sporting a few scars from her last encounter with one. They loved strong females but if they weren't Drow themselves, they enjoyed more in the breaking of them.

"Oh, I don't know, if she's lucky they might decide to keep her!" Caustic and cruel, she really couldn't stop the flow of her words, her lips wanting to turn themselves into a snarl. Memories had the tendency to do that to her.

Sigh, sigh, sigh.

"Eh, look..." She rubbed a hand across her face, "I doubt you need any sort of help from someone like me but I am good with protection charms and wards. Maybe I can offer something up, bit of a trade maybe. I would only ask for reports of what exactly is going on in your little war. Like I said, I have a daughter ..."

"She is drow as well. She would be hard to keep." Still, the thought shook him to the core, and it showed aas he took a step back and rolled his shoulders, fingers dancing on the edge of twin sheathes. "If she was taken, then I would take the war to them. The queen herself would burn, acid is most painful. I will die before she is taken."

Shrugging, he said, "If we speak again, I will tell you. Free of charge. Compassion is one of my weaknesses."

"Ah, good, prepare to have it exploited ..."

Waitaminute!

Blinking she refocused on him, amber eyes sharper than a knife.

"How exactly .....did you end up with a Drow as a mate?"

Million dollar question here.

"I am as much drow as I am dragon. Is it strange for a drow to seek a drow" Truth be told, she sought me. I met her here one night and she could not speak. So we spoke in the signs, and then we did it again. And again. And as I am sure you know, things like that turn into other things." Unfolding his arms, he shot a hand down towards the glass, raising it and drinking.

"I could explain more, but it is incredibly condescending."

She refrained from giving a very unlady like snort. No matter the type or blood, male was male. Go figure.

"Well, I'll take your word for it that she isn't the usual type of female."

She also highly doubted that the Drow would in fact, keep her. No, this lady Drow of his was going to be seen as a traitor to the whole race. Solved that question, since the Drow really only enslaved another Drow when that Drow was a male. She took another deep drink, filing away more information in her mind.

"I still want to greet and meet your mate. Should be interesting."

Also explained on why he had been so hesitant on first mentioning her. Thought she missed that, huh'

Nope.

"She is often here, like I said. I make no effort in hiding our affiliation, so it is quite easy to see. They say that love is hard to hide, yes?" At this he stood and bowed, saying "I find that sitting is not comfortable. My mind does not fit in my body and it often feels cramped."

Looking up at him she shrugged, "Eh, then stand?" Another thought did occur to her.

"Oh! I'm Vera."

She held out her hand finally with a small smile, disregarding his quick defense of his mate. She understood and knew she would probably not be wholly comfortable around her. Memories and all that! Still, if she saw even a semi-friendly female Drow she would make her acquaintance.

"We've had a whole conversation and haven't even tried to introduce ourselves."

Nodding, he slipped back into a formal, curt bow and said "My name is CaelMal DulQue. That or Aec'Mish. Either works just as well."

What a mouthful. Fae were known for that, dragons too, now that she thought about it. Looking at her hand she took it back with a grin and a shrug.

"How about Cael or Mal" Something short and sweet. Oh! I could call you Mish." She had to, throwing in a tease. It was just her, Vera.

"I would most likely answer to any of those. Truth be told, I do not really care how others think of me or view me. It is just easier to fit in. I am arrogant enough to ignore the formalities."

Shrugging, the words held little arrogance, currently. He was just stating facts. 'I have not been called Aec'Mish in quite some time."

"Yeah, I like Mish."

He was newly dubbed in her mind as such, the Gypsy pulling a phone case from her jeans pocket. Tucked inside where little white cards, a fine copper plate type in bold scrawled across the front.

Her new business cards. The former trade of thief didn't allow for advertising but being a consultant did. She handed one to him, curious to see if he'd take it. It was a little modern but they did live in a realm of complexities.

"My card." God, did she love saying that.

Taking a moment to stare at the card, he shrugged and took it, dropping it into a pocket. "I will hang it on the wall of my shop. I do not have cards to give you." Another shrug moved his shoulders before he took another bow and said, "While this has been an?interesting conversation, I have business to attend to."

"Of course, it's my off day so," she gave another trademark shrug, her smile a friendly thing on her face. "I'll stop by your shop, just to see if you really hang it up." She gave him a wink.

"I do not speak unless the words are true."

Leaving it at that, he stepped back and sighed. His form blurred and wavered before it shifted into a cloud of smoke, which made its way towards a crack in the wall and simply vanished.

It was her first time, really, coming back to the Red Dragon Inn after being away for so long.

Interesting....the people you meet.

And she had a talk with Dyarhk one morning. Where"

Where else but the Red Dragon Inn.

" "I'd be surprised if you haven't." Vera said, continuing the conversation after Cael left. "I tend to come and go, and more than likely we've been here at the same time, it's only now we get to exchange names."

The Gypsy had many haunts but the Inn was a constant though she had been away for a while.

"Coffee?"

Dyarhk smiled and said, "If you would keep me company, I would love a cup."

"Not a problem for me, cream, sugar" Cinnamon stick?" Pouring him a mug she busied herself procuring all said items.

"There's rarely anyone here at this hour when I come by, and never anyone this pretty. This morning is a best-case scenario." Taking hold of both his elbows on the bar he said, "Two sugars, please."

All music had stopped from her lovely modern device; the ear buds didn't leave the canal of her ears. With a spoon she dished him two sugars into his coffee, her grin flashing once more for him.

"I don't know much about the pretty part but I've always been one for this time of the day. I think there's something to be said about watching the night melt away into the light of the sun. I also like sunrises, so, here I am."

Handing him his mug she resumed she shrugged out of her coat, draping it on the counter.

"Aw yeah! Thank you." He accepted the mug and blew on it just once before cautiously taking a sip. His eyes which had been lazy, now resurrected.

"Besides, Katt sometimes comes in with baklava..." Later, he might see the new obsessive she had for the treat. Finding a stick of cinnamon she stirred it with her coffee, amber eyes taking him in.

"So your old friends with Mish, huh?"

She meant Cael, she just thought it funny to call him only part of his second name.

"Mmm." He hummed thoughtfully. "Fellow sunrise appreciator, always nice to find another member."

"It is a small but special club!"

"Mish' You mean Cael" Mish'Cael....Hm. Now there's an entirely different fellow odd to think up right now. I wonder what that man is doing, even as we speak..."

He grew thoughtful. "Cael, though' Yes. I would like to call myself a friend of his. We met under favorable circumstances." He snickered.

Taking a sip she rolled it for a bit on her tongue, a savor before swallowing. Snickering along with him she shook her head, "I think he's enjoying his new found relationship. I don't think they've been together long but they do make a striking couple."

"They sure do. And I do love to see couples together."

"Hmm, they can be amusing. You mentioned that you're married?" Actually she only overheard it but why split the hairs.

"Seeing couples together can so easily show me the happiness they've found; that I know they've found. It is a special way to harken back to my own situation. Now that is a likewise small but special club, my dear Vera."

He bowed his head just briefly in a respective nod to his new acquaintance while he took a sip from the coffee she had prepared him.

"Yes, yes I am married." He answered her for clarification.

The Gypsy could only give a shrug. "I am a single lass and I don't mind it much. I have tried the couple thing but it doesn't seem to work for me."

She wasn't exactly wistful about it though the note might have been in a few of her words, her lips twisting while she thought about it. "I'm not good with relationships of that sort, I won't lie, I had strayed in the past when getting bored."

Saying it out loud made it all the worse to her, the wince she now gave him saying as much.

He shook his head, smiling but listening, waving her on, to tell off as it were. The Romantic paid his ears and attention to her words.

Vera sighed.

"I don't know. I was close to settling down with one man. I called him Tom Cat," but she couldn't remember his actual name, only that reference. And his eyes, cerulean, like the ocean.

"He was a sailor and even owned his ship. We got close, pretty serious, but I was still wild and young. I had my daughter then as well and I was preoccupied with her." She murmured, looking a little away.

"I really did care about Tom Cat, I did. I just wasn't ready for?"

She had to think for a minute. "Okay, fine, I have commitment issues. Or I did, I like to think I'm older and wiser now."

He laughed.

She gave another sheepish shrug. "It's true."

"And it's the perfect day to be honest on." More laughter.

She had to laugh a little herself, "I suppose so, but why exactly do you say that?"

She thought about — it was Sunday. "It's nothing to go confess to a Priest about ....I'm sure ..."

Puzzled frown. "I hope."

"I don't know....I'd be willing to take a confession."

He slides open the confession booth's imaginary window.

"Tell me about your love life." A close-eyed smile.

"The Love Priest is in."

Laughing more she shook her head, wrinkling her nose a bit. "My love life would either bore you to tears, or leave you a bit horrified ..."

"He broke your heart, didn't he?" Hiding behind the bar, peeking eyes over the top of it.

"He broke your heart and since then you've never been able to let anyone get close again for fear of an encore presentation."

She could only laugh, hugging a single arm around her middle, staring at Dyarhk.

Smiling, he returns to his stool.

"I usually break the hearts." The Gypsy gave a smirk. Yeah, she could be a touch arrogant at times.

"Yes, your gender likes to say that confidently, I've found." A sly grin.

"I think they're often a lot stronger than men here. Why, I'm sure you'd find a way to beat me in a fight. You probably shoot lightning or something."

Vera smiled, though softer now, "I do suppose sometimes it has been bruised but not broken."

Not broken in a very long time, not since she had been sixteen. Oh, the Gypsy had issues, long reaching ones but they were her stories, her secrets.

"I have the Talent but not that strong, I've neglected it for years. I, ah, well, I just know some varja, magic, and I can tap in what my people call current which is just basically life energy. Nothing huge, well, not for me anyway. I am what most consider a low level since I don't try to tap into it often."

She dramatically lowered her voice, "That way lies madness."

Both a joke and a truth, all rolled into one. Yes, Vera had Talent.

He laughed. He loved jokes! "How about that, I wasn't far off after all, was I!"

Grinning the Gypsy sipped more of her coffee.

"Oh, I promise not to hurt you, it would be a shame to leave a widow behind."

"And it is why I think I will draw on my true power, which is pleasantry. I can't survive such things, being the mortal man that I am, not very well, at least. So it pays to be nice to others. Even sometimes, very rarely, I can not only ensure I don't get disintegrated, but turnover allies, as well." He winked to her.

"Oh!" Vera just shook her head, her braid swaying with each turn, "I'm as human as you!"

Well, for the most part. There might have been something spotty in her sire's genetic pool.

"I'm just not a Null. Are you a null" No magic, nothing?"

He held out his hands, though not very far. Nothing came from them. Not even a spark of magical potency. Fake tears swelled in his eyes.

"I'm only handsome!" He bawled.

She tsked, her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth. "If it makes you feel better," she drawled, smirking, "handsome," oh, there was a teasing snicker to be found in her voice, "for years I thought I was a Null. Grandmother knew better but I just didn't like the idea of it. The whole 'other' thing I suppose. There is a comfort in being just normal or what most take for normal."

Dyarhk smiled very warmly. "There sure is, friend."

She tapped her mug to his, companionably, "Is your wife a Null or something more?"

Toast-worthy absolutely! He took an appreciative sip from his coffee mug before answering.

"Something more is what I would say. Like Rhy'Din suggests, she would be an amazing woman. She will never know aging, she will never know sub-par performances. There is a magnificent air that rides with the women of this world. Not unlike Cael who was just in here. From what I hear, he is not immortal, no, but he will outlive me many times over, that he will. In the company of so many varying battery lives, human life sure does feel especially short now."

The Gypsy grew thoughtful, a fingertip tracing the rim of her mug, moving in slow circles.

"Yes, I have ....slowly come to terms with the fact that I might outlive a few. I won't live forever, I don't want to, but," her shrug this time was almost helpless, "I will be around for a bit. I've been told the span can be somewhere between a hundred and fifty years, to about two hundred. It's rather terrifying actually. I think it's lucky I've made it just a bit past thirty!"

"Yes, that's quite faithfully past most your human company's lives at this point." He stared at her over the mug he was still drinking from.

The he laughed. "I'm sure you've done fine getting to where you are. And I'm ever glad to be in your company."

She felt a bit uncomfortable, her eyes sneaking away towards the windows. She had it on the tip of her tongue to assure him that she was human, as human as him, but she held it back. Blinking she looked back to him, "It is nice to be in yours as well, you are a pleasant man to talk to. Where are you originally from?"

He tapped the bar. "Right here, born and raised."

"Really' I always found it odd that many here aren't actually from the land itself. There is so many people, but they all come from someplace else, myself included. I was born and raised in an area we call Eastern Europe."

Little realize the secretive nature of doors. How much they hide, how safe they keep you. Such things to take for granted. Click. It begged the question: did the door keep him in" Or did it let him out' Bare feet padded silently down the hallway to the stairs and down them he went, with riot of blonde and violet hair smooth down the width of pale back, watered silk slithering along his legs, tied neat at the sharp jut of his hip, trailing lazily in his wake.

"Damn foreigners." Dyarhk said, looking away from her as if she were awful. His smile betrayed the serious tone though.

Dyarhk looked over to the man he assumed was robed in nightly attire. "Well, good morning. Coffee" This wonderful woman here makes a delicious cup."

"Oh! You are awful!" Laughing she walked out from behind the bar finally, a carafe still mostly full of coffee left behind her. Perching on a stool she toed both her boots off, letting her toes wiggle in their comfortable wool socks. "I may have a slight accent but — oh. Good morning Mateus."

Off the last stair he went, pale eyes cutting across the room at the sound of his name. Near instantly, the thin slash of his mouth started to crawl upwards. "Indeed she does," he agreed, as he started for the bar. Those sloe-slanted eyes drifted to Vera. "Good morning, Vera. I hope you are well?" he asked, forever-long fingers flexing at his sides.

The Gypsy was put together much better today than the last morning, her wild mane tamed into a single braid down her back, the movements of her body less jerky, erratic. The strange, near deranged glow that had lit itself in the amber of hers muted, and she no longer sported the purple bruise of not enough sleep in the hollows beneath those same eyes. No gypsy attire; just jeans and sweater, the former black and the latter a baby blue. "I'm very well, thank you. I trust you had a good night's sleep?"

"I had a good night," he mused, a flick of his head sending hair and the vivid lights of amethyst gems woven into it over a pale shoulder. "Sleep is not something I do often." That smile though, it was still in residence on his face, the cool pale of his gaze lazily wandering, wondering along her before he was moving for the bar's break. "Are you always such an early riser?"

The Gypsy gave Dyarhk an amused look. D"j" vu, since he had already poised this question to Vera. "I'm part of a special club that watches sunrises. He," a point with her free hand, "is also an honorable member. He's Dyarhk, by the by." She didn't offer him Mateus' name because she still didn't know exactly what Mateus was and didn't know if he would take an offense to her handing it about. Humans were less so touchy on such subjects. It was best to just let him introduce himself, if he saw fit.

"I'm getting better at letting people know my name before talking their ear off first."

Because this seemed like an important thing to announce.

"A real pleasure." Dyarhk said, inkling his chin to chest in bow. A chuckle rose up out of him, low and slow as he moved towards the coffee pot. Pale eyes drifted towards Dyarhk. "Indeed, sir. I am Mateus." His eyes flicked to Vera though, at that comment. "I'm glad you're having an easier time of it. Did you ever catch that woman's name" The one from yesterday?" asked, as he grabbed a clean mug in one hand, the pot in the other. One met the other, liberally.

Well double damn! Somehow in the space of two days, Mateus has caused a flush to spread over her face, roses appearing in the pale hue of her skin, dusting on the angles of her cheekbones.

"I knew I was forgetting something ..." Mutter.

He chuckled quietly, settling the coffee pot back on the hotplate, leaning there against the back bar. "I'm sure you'll remember, my dear. Perhaps leave yourself a note?" The line of a brow arched just a bit. "Then again, you might forget that too..." thoughtfully murmured, before taking a sip of coffee.

"Bah, she did offer to let me see her library." And this was the important thing. She turned her head to Dyarhk, "Mish's mate. Uh ....do you know her name?" She snuck a side-long look towards Mateus. She was not being sneaky about this! Much.

No one would blame her - least of all him, what with the pale, sharp of his eyes on her and his gaze" Not very 'side-long' at all. No, it's blatant and appreciative . Standing, Dyarhk turned his coffee mug up with one hand on the bar and placed the cup down beside it. "That..! Would be Rayva. Just learned that today, as a matter of fact. Looks like the sun's creeping up already, outside. I'm off to give it an audience. Good morning to you both." Another bow of his head and pocketing his hands in his pants, he went to and out the front door.

And thus she was alone with a god-king.

....but maybe she should have worried more about healing herself first.

She had stayed at the Inn that night but a dream, unlike any dream she had before, woke her up. Vividly she remembered it;

..the walls made of gold, the floor of marble, and the huge spiraling columns supporting the roof. The roof had strange symbols carved into it and Vera felt like she had seen them before, from a book, but this part of her memory remained murky. There had been voices, whispering after her, while she walked down this strange and opulent palace.

There was a door and all she could see was her own hand, reaching out for the ornate handle. Grasping, pulling...

And then she woke up, sitting suddenly in the bed that was not her own. The Gypsy groggily rubbed at her eyes, digging the knuckle deep before swinging her legs over, hopping out of the bed sheets.

Yawning, Vera went into the bathroom.

A shower and a change of gray sweat pants and a soft blue camisole later, thick mane of hair braided and left damp, the Gypsy descended bare foot down the stairs of the Inn into a new kind of chaos then the one a certain Pharaoh had thrown her into.

Recap: Vera see's a drow woman run out the door. Faerran has apparently attacked Rayva, who was crawling along the bottom of the bar, holding her sliced throat. Cael was nervously beside her and some creature was trying to talk to them in some form of sign language.

And she stood there, staring for quite a while, before moving into motion and helping the half-drow woman.

_____________________________________________ Honestly, Vera thought Rayva might need stitching but she was gambling on her Fae blood kicking in and hopefully, regenerating faster with the aid of the poultice. Blinking the Gypsy gathered the bandages and the first few layers she rubbed the poultice in, slowly handing them back.

"Wrap this around first, let it soak in but try and be careful not to actually touch your hands to the edges of the wound. I don't know how she might take to infection and the aloe in the poultice will help soothe her pain."

Well, at least a little. The wound was large and if Vera had her way, she'd be stitching it. Somehow, she didn't think that would go over well with Cael. Best see how long it takes for her flesh to knit together. Rayva wasn't human, so her biology was different. Hesitating, she looked between them.

"He wants to be the only one to touch you .."

She was batting at his hand, the first sign of anything but shock coming through as she sputtered a chiming noise, then rasping in broken tones, "Please stop....I love you, but please stop..." The jar was opened; its contents were spread on a section of bandage. She was coming more so into lucidity, now. And she signed; Just help me get the bandage on my neck, please.

Eyes slid to the gypsy and she pointed for guidance.

Cael was growling in frustration but he followed her hands, placing the bandage on her neck and patting in tenderly. Black eyes floated towards the window, shoulders rolling. A harsh shriek, a sound dull of pain and anger ripped through the air, teeth snapping, green acid pouring at his feet.

"This is absurd. She has hurt you. And she has hurt me, an eye for an eye, yes?"

"Um, make it cinch just tight enough to hug, okay' Not too tight, just hugging her skin, yes?"

She handed him the rest of the bandages, these ones left dry to better protect both her wound and to allow the rest to eventually dry as well. She wanted it slightly moist right now, in case of scarring. Standing, Vera set the jar aside and went back into the kitchen. More shuffling until she came back to them with a table cloth and a knife. Renna's antics and others had left the Inn low of supplies but Vera had done this before in her vardo.

She began making long strips, wrappings for her ribs and she had noticed Rayva's wheezing breath.

"This next part is going to hurt her .." Softly whispered, a gentle warning.

She closed her eyes and sighed, low tones hissing, "That is what this was."

Then, peering towards the gypsy, she switched to sign, I killed her mate. She came back and tried to do the same to me. When Talis defended me, she raged, but left me alive. It's business. It's over.

Growling again he stared at the blonde and said, "Hurt her at your own risk. I am far from stable right now. I am bleeding profusely myself and so is she." Shrugging, he signed "And this is my answer for the punishment. An eye for an eye. This is your eye. And mine has been struck, and so will hers."

She eyed Vera wearily, going ahead and raising that right shoulder and arm, bringing her forearm to rest on the bar. Her voice croaked and she offered, "Let's get this over with..."

She'd had broken ribs before and knew the drill all too well. Her left hand reached out and snagged one of Cael's.

"Then you run the risk of her ribs puncturing into her lungs and other organs — if they haven't already. Your choice. More pain now, or possible death later. Your stubbornness only brings her untold agony ..."

It was softly spoken but carried steel, harsh and cruel, the amber eyes turning flat and cold. She had seen people die from this when help came too late. But she hesitated, "I'm going to need to lift your shirt some, I don't want to cause you more of an uncomfort."

Rayva nodded with the rasping hiss of her voice crackling, "I'll be fine. Just still a little swimmy headed. I cracked the back of my head pretty good out there. But it was the choice between crack my skull or get my throat torn out. I'd rather be dizzy than dead."

Cold fingers took hers, wrapping around said digits, Cael's voice low. "I am not a creature that is used to sitting on anger and ignoring it. Arrogance has a price, yes" If I had it my way, I would be in your mind, guessing where she was now. Due to respect, I have not done so."

Shrugging, he squeezed tighter. A deep sigh passed his lips.

Rayva took her shirt and pulled it up, carefully working it over her arms without too much hissing. The remainder of the material was draped across her chest demurely. The most of her beneath that shirt was covered in inks and brands, along with a decent handful of scars. Her right side was already bruising into a dulled greenish-purple. She winced and rested that arm back on the bar, looking to Cael with a wince.

Nodding, Vera gently lifted her clothes out of the way, baring her pale skin. Quickly and as softly as she could the Gypsy ran her fingertips along the woman's ribs, depressing on the skin to find out where the extent of the injury lay. She was also checking to see if any possible internal bleeding had occurred, being as quick and efficient as possible.

"Good news is all the vital stuff is fine, bad news is, they are broken."

The lower branch, from the bruising seemed only cracked but the upper branch had broken but not badly. Just enough to make breathing a chore. Grabbing the long strips she started to wind them, tightly around her, tucking, pulling, and soon incasing her like a mummy. But she was finished and moved away. "I can make up a poultice for the bruising but I have nothing with me now."

"This could have all been fixed. Ask her."

Nodding towards the blonde, he said, "My life force is massive. I tried to give you some. You would not let me." Standing, he limped towards the bar and selected a bottle of brandy. A long, long drink was taken. Black eyes flashed towards the speaker as he said, "Just make sure that she is not going to die. That is all I ask of you."

She looked hurt and signed towards him, Between mother flipping her sh*t and all, you seem to have missed the fact that I got cut and had the sh*t kicked out of me. Now, yes, my head is killing me, but nothing is fatal. Talis stopped her.

A brow arched up, Vera's head turning and tilting, like a cat considering a strange and new bird. "She's a Fae woman, Death is not knocking on her door. Just a lot of pain. The wound on her neck, that is bad, but she should start her healing soon. Sooner than I would have, the neck wound alone would probably have killed me."

You kinda need to relax, was there somewhere in her words but Vera didn't say them. Truth be told, had this been Alyssa, she'd have lost it worst than last night.

Standing she brushed imaginary dust from her sweat pants. "I'll make some tea, you should think about drinking that instead of that gut rot." And away the Gypsy went, back into the kitchen.

Staring down at the half drow, he murmured, "This is a grey matter. I do not care what she did. She failed, you were hurt. There was more that she could have done. And where she failed, I will not." Another drink was taken before he turned back and said, "The damage done is not a factor. What matters is that damage was done. And it will be repaid."

The smile was almost eager.

Rayva rubbed at her forehead, wincing as she took a breath and shuddered, "I'm not that easily broken. Now come here and make me feel better about the fact that I just got my butt kicked, please?"

Puttering about Vera filled a kettle and set it to heating, opening cupboards and browsing through the selection. Finding some chamomile she set it aside, picking out an Earl Gray and some jasmine. Pouring the hot water into a mug for herself, the Gypsy dipped a bag of the chamomile, adding just a touch of honey for sweetness. Moving to the door she poked her head out, "Rayva, you want a mug of tea?"

There was a definite thumbs-up from the half-drow. "Yes, please," was the hissing reply.

Anger was still etched onto his face, mixing with the smile he forced. A quick lean was taken, gentle hands picking the woman up, soft steps leading towards a couch. With a thought, he arranged the pillows into a comfortable pad. Leaning down again, he placed her on the couch and said, "I will do my best, yes" There is no failure. You are alive and can try again. Battles are lost, wars are won."

Nodding she ducked back into the kitchen and fixed a tray, placing a carafe of hot water, an additional two mugs, along with honey, cream, and milk upon it. She didn't want to shout across the common room and figured bringing everything would be much easier. Waltzing through the swinging door she approached the couch.

"I have a bit of everything, not sure how you like your tea." Setting the tray down gently on a table Vera plucked a pillow for herself from another couch, using it as her seat on the floor. Crossing her legs Indian style she gave her an expectant look while pouring the hot water into one of the other mugs.

Rayva looked up at him balefully, "Just hold me or pet me or something. I know that you're mad, but I'm pitiful and needy right now." ...and demanding....and feeling guilty....and fully aware that every bit of this is deserved retribution for something f*ck up she did, but those thoughts would remain unspoken.

To the gypsy, "Plain, thank you."

Nodding she passed Rayva the mug, a bag of the chamomile steeping before looking at Cael, "Want to try something other than rot gut?"

Shrugging again, he wrapped one arm around the half-drow woman, the free hand running through her hair. "I wish I had words to say that would fix this. I wish I were another color and I could make all of this right, yes?"

Leaning down, he left a tender kiss on her forehead. Turning back towards the blonde, he shook his head and said, "No, but thank you. The whiskey hides so much. I am trying to retain my calm and it helps. I have almost lost said calm twice in one day."

Actually, doing all this made Vera feel very pleased with herself. She hadn't had much time to bask in the glow of when they had came to her aid last night, early morning, however you wanted to peg it. It was awful circumstances but at least she could give something back. Rolling a shrug at his words she picked her own tea up, enjoying a sip.

"Seems to be the season of trouble and very little joy."

Sigh. "I'm glad my daughter is not here, and safe in my homeland."

Rayva winced as she leaned to reach the tea, taking a sip and setting it onto the side table as she looked down at herself....bandages, tattered clothing, oh my! She leaned into Cael's side and coughed hoarsely.

"There's something in the water..."

Vera wrinkled her nose. "I think it's Renna, spreading her own special cheer around myself but thankfully, I haven't had to deal with her much ..." Her words ended in a mutter.

"Well, tonight was my sister's idea of retribution, which I'm not sure how I feel about that, but it's done, it's over....Renna is an issue, yes....and then there's Alma." She sighed, "Sociopaths, amuck."

Rayva quirked a brow, "Of course, Renna was here earlier when I had Amelyn out and she actually behaved." She moved to pick up her mug and made an awful face, lower lip bitten to staunch any sounds that may escape.

Laughing darkly, Cael said "No, it is not over, not for her at least. I have sat on the outside for far too long."

"I hope to never have the pleasure of meeting this Alma. I know nothing about her, save that you've now used her name in the same sentences as Renna's, that's enough for me!"

Taking another sip, she looked around the empty Inn, the tension gone but none of her wariness. "Brian showed up ..."

She chose the words carefully, turning her attention back to Rayva. "Icer's Wonder of a brother. First time I got to meet him too..."

Placing herself in danger to save a Scath girl but she didn't add that part of her happy news to share. This was the first time she could talk calmly about it all.

"It's why I was so ..." Lifting a hand, she made a motion, teetering it back and forth, "off." More off than usual for her anyway.

"Just don't look Alma in the eyes..." The warning was serious, "She's dangerous, sure, but generally, just blows a lot of hot air."

"Yup, still not meeting her .." Gypsy sing-song.

Vera looked at Rayva, her lips twisting, "Eh, Tall Scary Man hasn't been around, has he?"

She shook her head stiffly, "Nope....Not since we played the jackass card this morning....I don't think I've had so much fun pissing someone off, in a long time!"

Wrinkling her nose, she smiled a bit, "I don't remember what he did to me but, apparently it didn't last long. Still, it was a relief to see Mateus, if only to warn him..." Rolling her shoulders again, she asked, her tone low, "Has Issy been around" Maybe with another woman, by name of Chi?"

"Of the Scaths" Haven't seen her. I saw Janie last night....Mags smacked the piss out of her and told her that was a message for Isuelt, over the whole Alma thing. Bad situation....Bad."

She thought, taking a moment to clear her throat and take a sip of tea, "And there was a Scath named Rhiannon here tonight. I didn't see the one tonight, but was told of her presence. My company," She glanced off, "keeps tabs on certain groups. We're not just an apothecary shop - that's a tiny part of what we do."

"Hmm ..." Nodding she paused, thinking quickly. In the past Vera had steered away from most things painting themselves in troubles and nightmares, but this time she might not be allowed to keep a passive role. "I want to speak to Chi again, I want to make sure she's all right."

The strong, tall, raven haired woman had reminded the Gypsy, just a bit, of herself. "She's new around here, it's not fair that her first night was spent in threats and shadows of death. They've lost one sister..."

Vera had been with Katt, Icer, and others when the message to Issy was delivered, bloody bag and all.

A brow rose, "Only one" Then there's some poor soul out there without a hand, because I was here the night that Renna delivered that message....She's a sick, little monster. And I just wonder what?s going to take her down. I've been through and tried to help during three of her attacks now and magic does little..."

Shuddering the Gypsy set her mug aside, arms wrapping tight around her lithe frame, hugging for comfort. "Only one that I know of ..." Vera had thought about using the current, varja, which her people considered life energy against Renna but she had forced herself to spindle it away. At the time it had seemed to risky, would have called too much attention on her, and she was still a novice with the Talent.

"When was this other message" The one with the hand?"

She frowned, "Couple of weeks ago, probably....Um....I believe it was when Cael was gone for so long, so....probably right around harvest time." That had not been an easy time either, nearly two weeks without her mate.

Vera hadn't been around then, so she had no idea. "This has been going on a while, I see...."

"Yes....The first attack that I was present for was when that Cajun piece of man-flesh, Ed Batten, had a party and Renna and some guy named Kain tried to massacre the partygoers using little zombie children with firearms."

She flipped through the mental rolodex, "It's been going on for at least the past two seasons, because I've heard about it since I returned to the realm then."

Vera remembered Katt and a few others talking about the party where this man, Ed, had lost his home to Renna's attack. She gave a brisk nod, "Yes, I've heard of that but at the time, I had no idea how terrible things were." The Gypsy had no idea how terrible Renna was, taking it for granted that she had just been another trouble maker running amuck. Katt's face, when hearing about Renna, should have told her otherwise.

"She's not human, Renna, what is she?"

She yawned distractedly and glanced around, "Some claim that she's a god of some type. But with the sheer amount of 'gods' running around RhyDin, who knows who is what. Hell, I'm a half-drow/half-wild elven wild mage who was this," fingers separated a tiny bit, "close to being a 4th generation Ventrue before I left this crazy place eight years ago. We're all completely screwed up, genetically. I'm shocked we're not all shaking on the ground like a bunch of inbred, epileptic poodles..."

Vera didn't like talking about vampire clans for obvious reasons. Technically she was either supposed to be a vampire herself or destroyed more than ten years ago. It had been practically a law at the time but the ruling Carmillia's word was always Law.

She cleared her throat, "I'm just a human. But that's funny ..." She grinned now.

"All that I've concerned myself with, since the Batten incident, is how do we kill it?" Rayva rose unsteadily. "But for now, I think I better go track down Puff....since he poofed awhile ago. I've got some healing to do, so hopefully, he's snuggled up at home."

"Take care, keep it clean and all that ..." Not that she needed to tell her but still.

"Puff the Magic Dragon?" Laughing. Poor Mish.

"Puff, indeed....He didn't tell me that he was part dragon until just the other night....I thought he was just a drow with some weird quirks, but anyhow." She nodded, "Thank you for your help....I was actually crawling under the bar to keep them from doing....whatever it was that they were trying to help with....wow. Men." A smile was given, "Safe travels."

She shook her head, "I saw, I had no choice but to help." Said around another grin, "Be safe."

Rayva grinned and headed for the door, hissing and wincing all the way!

Meeting two Extraordinary Men - Part One

It is overcast - he is surprised it is not snowing. A little sad, really; he rather enjoyed the snow. No matter. Climbing the porch's steps, he crossed it to the door and reached open, pushing it open with a pale hand. Once inside, he paused, pale blue eyes blinking, adjusting from the dark outside to the brighter interior. Tapping the toe of his boots to the floor, the man started towards the bar in the slow swirl of heavy robes, velvet and ermine fine. He had not been in here for several weeks - and from the looks of things" It had not changed one bit. Pale lips curled into the subtlest of smiles, perfectly befitting his features.

Flashing a smile towards Vera, he said "I am alive, thank you, and yourself" Well I am hoping." Mismatched eyes slid back to the lizard before he said "The past is nothing. The water from yesterday will not turn the mill today. It is not what we have learned it is what we are willing to learn, yes?"

"Yes I do learn sstill, I have learned that there are other Oblivionss. I am far from home, I will find a way back. I have much time on my handss to do sso." That last part was a little cryptic, he was not about to explain what he meant by much time.

Vera looked up, a sense of something crawling down her spine but she couldn't place the source. She turned her head towards the dragons though, her fingers twisting the cap of her water bottle off. "I'm good, much better than a day or so ago. Or night. Whichever."

They all tended to blur for the Gypsy, who didn't stick to any decent sort of schedule. Taking a drink, she looked over to the man who just entered, curious. He looked almost familiar to her but she couldn't explain why.

"Home is what we make it. I would not live where I was born again. I simply go because I must." Nodding, he closed both eyes and said "Wasted time is a wasted life."

Vera's comment got a muted rumble before he said "Better is good?"

"Better is excellent actually." Smiling she took another sip, walking out through the break, standing just a little off from it, to better lean into the bar. Gently she placed her books on the counter. "Have you seen Mateus" I need to give him a few things."

"Thiss iss not home to me, Tamriel iss home. Thiss iss not Skyrim or Blackmarsh. The sstars are wrong and the moons are sstrange. I will find a way back." Argonians were notoriously stubborn and settled in their thinking. They find a way through any obstacle.

Listen to Cael and his dragon-like companion her eyes could help but move towards the stranger".

He looks a lot of things - like rich-blooded nobility, like aristocracy. Once at the bar, a long fingered hand settled atop it, his eyes considering all the bottles behind it. Pale features twisted into something thoughtful, something curious. Fingertips drummed a slow staccato, a ribbon of soft taps, created by long nails.

Shaking his head, Cael said "Nah, I have not seen that one. If I do, I will let him know." His curl simply got tighter before he shrugged and blew another breath of smoke, forming it into a door. "I must be leaving, yes?" Turning to the lizard, he shrugged and said, "I have learned to allow it to be home."

"Very well Dragon, fair night to you then. Until we crosss pathss again." A nod to Cael.

"Oh, well, take care then Cael." She murmured, though she gave the would-be boyar another look, a frown pulling at her brows before she covered it by taking another drink of her water.

Cael nodded towards Vera, murmuring, "You will be telling my love that I miss her, yes" I do. Very much." Turning towards the lizard, he said "I am called CaelMal. I have many other names, but that will do."

"Sure thing Cael, I'll tell her but I think she would rather hear it from you." And just to be a brat, the Gypsy reached out, petting him on his cute, lil' dragon head.

For a second, he glanced down the bar, a dark brow arching. Was that a minotaur with its head on the bar" How delightful. The thin line of his mouth curled into a slow smile, before he pushed away from the bar, just to move towards the break, to fetch himself something to drink.

And *poof!* he was gone. Laughing, Vera grabbed her books up. "I'm actually a little cold," considering she had left the apartment without her coat. Don't ask. "I'm going to sit by the fire guys."

And with another long look towards the boyar (hey, the guy was something to look at, okay") Vera turned on her heel slowly winding her way through tables and chairs, until she found a couch set comfortable close. Kicking her shoes, clever little high heels, off she sprawled out, sleek Armani and diadem, all.

Briefly, his head turned to consider the woman that glanced his way, but it was little more than that. He was thirsty, you see, and that needed to be remedied immediately. Slipping through the break, he began to peruse bottles, in hopes of finding one to his satisfaction.

Cracking a book open the Gypsy began to read, her eyes passing slowly over the words until she heard more people come into the common room. Lazily she lifted a hand, but didn't turn her eyes away from her reading, just waving it in the air for politeness sake.

His fingers paused on a bottle of ţuică..and, after a moment, he pulled it free from its shelf with one hand. The other made for a clean snifter. Both in hand he was moving back out from behind the bar. He did not desire to be confused for someone who worked here after all.

Stiff strides, Bjorn joined the living en route from the alley, the winter's breath draft coming in to intermingle with the vague impression of heat, a low-burning fever on the horizon that divulged none of his secrets. His movements were slow and patiently measured in the satisfying way that a man's was after a particularly grueling fight that he'd seen the surviving end of, and one must forgive the uncivilized flag of bullion-gold hair that hung windswept across the broad planes of his back, tangled as if bed-rumpled, for he'd only the use of one arm at present. The left hung firmly in a sling that wrapped around the nape of his neck and shoulder, and bandages were visible where they wrapped around the powerful lines of his throat past the shirt collar, but he seemed more than functional and bent on a drink.

Tilting her head, the Gypsy traced one passage that caught her attention, her lips twisting though it was a slow smile. Sitting up slightly she took another drink from her water bottle, briefly flashing a look around. Odd, it had been almost empty before and now it was filling up.

Clad in a pair of Diesel jeans that'd seen better days but still hung on him like a comfortable second skin before tattering around the hard, leather lines of dull brown harness boots, and one of his favored white button downs, his hair unbound like moltenly wild gold entwined somewhere in the undergrowth with a skinny leather tongue attached to the gutted teeth of a dire bear. As if he preferred to shirk the nobility behind the jaw, the cut of subtle, sharp cheek bones slit high in cheeks veiled in a downy five o'clock shadow. Observing the gathering on his way, that lion's gaze (fool's gold and lit embers, a lighted beast) lingered on Ella when he aimed for the server side of the bar to address the unorganized stock.

Best to clear out while one could: he charted and started a path straight for the hearth, where it was warm. More importantly' The chairs there were quite suitable to his liking, the sort of things you'd see in".well, in his own home, not to put too fine a point on it.

In his own state, what could he say without daring borderline hypocrisy' The little witch need not open her mouth far enough for a word to slip by, but he carved out a smile at the brief catch of eyes as if unwilling to utterly submit to her rules.

Despite the temporarily inability to use one arm, he was efficient back there - hooking the Dalwhinnie out of the rest, hunting a tumbler soon thereafter, and although it took twice as long to fill a glass, he didn't appear to mind. Glass promisingly full, he left it on the bar's surface to feel around in a pocket for paper crumpling to settle his tab and dropped the amount he knew by heart into the cashbox.

Someone had taken a bruising, the Gypsy mused watching as Bjorn made a bee-line for the bar. But when she saw the boyar striding towards the hearth, Vera gave him a slight nod, amber eyes bright and inquisitive looking him over anew. Suddenly feeling more ridiculous than usual she tugged the diadem off her head, placing it in her lap.

There was, to be fair, the faintest twitch of his lips to the woman at the hearth. The diadem did make for an interesting contrast, in comparison to the neatness of the suit she wore. Nevertheless, he settled himself into a proud wingback, and started to work on the cork in the bottle of ţuică.

"Good eveniing," offered, the pinnacle of polite. There was no need to be rude, really, and he'd long since learned that women tended to act appreciatively to that accent, deep and smooth.

Finishing his business behind the bar, he'd caught sight of Vera - and the momentary narrowing of those eyes suggested familiarity, as he tried to place her; Katt's friend, he thought. Grinning crookedly at her, he bent his head to acknowledge her while he moved out from behind the bar with an unhurried gait toward the hearth. "Evening - and to you as well, Ella,?" baiting the witch, bad Lion.

The accent was caught and held, her eyes moving quickly to his, the boyar. But Bjorn had said something, that tawny head now turning again though she was almost hesitant to speak, as if to give her own self away.

"Hallo. You look like you've had a fine time of it, huh?"

And now, to the boyar. "You are far from home, wouldn't you say, Prince?" It was only a guess, her eyes taking in the richness of his attire. But it was a damn good guess.

"And to you,?" for Irosque, without missing a beat and comfortably inclined to include him as if the narrowing of the eyes bore no pressing weight. Pausing at the outer barline en route to the hearth at Vera, he cradled his whiskey close to a hard hipline and allowed the witch her woman's silent treatment, veiling amusement behind a flick of overbright, faceted topaz eyes tracing Vera - slipping back to the wingback where the other man she spoke to sat. "You should see the other guy,?" a trademark reply, automatic and wry.

Ah, and an introduction over there. Poor witch. Bjorn briefly settled his whiskey on the bar to extend his good right hand, unperturbed. "Iros; well met.?" If accepted, he still carried a nice firm grip, dry-warm with strange heat that throbbed from callused flesh.

The hand was met with features of the same baring, grip firm and hold short as he shook the man's good appendage. He lifted the port wine he drank from, offering it with half lidded eyes to emphasize its potency. "Stuff is strong, care for some seeing as how ya might need it?"

Having hauled the cork free, he had just started to pour the brandy into the snifter when he paused, eyes lifting to the woman there. After a moment, his mouth curled into a slow, small smile. "I am no prince, I assure you."

Not technically. Not by birth. No, that was for the rich men, the same men that had tried to ruin his country.

Bjorn eyed the port wine with amicable amusement, and as he retracted his hand, reclaimed the tumbler overfull with expensive-smelling whiskey - oak, honey, the naturalistic throb of cedar under thick liquor. "I appreciate the offer, but I prefer whiskey,?" and specific brands to boot, the hedonist. "And the only pain I suffer is the inconvenience. Our woman friend is displeased with me."

The Gypsy's lips twitched, fighting a grin but gave up the battle, her smile bright, rich with her own mirth. She would never understand men but always she would be endlessly amused by them. Shifting on the couch, she curled her feet up, looking almost expectantly at the boyar.

Nu" Dar tu eşti departe de casă, da?"

"Ya seem like the type to ruin her good work with that." Iros motioned toward the sling and other markings, a chuckle mixed into his drink as he took another chug of it. He did appreciate the choice of drink, giving a nod for it before sighing and clenching the port tightly to his chest. "Needed something sweet, salty, and worth the burn." Sea hues glanced back at Ella for a moment before he leaned into the bar with his rump, eyes darting between the two.

"Ella isn't so easy to soothe as that,?" chided Bjorn with all the fondness that might have been used when referring to a wily feline, and he idled a while long with amused, half-lidded gold eyes sweeping over the bar to assess her. "For now, it is the silent treatment but she'll warm, given time. She is self-ruled, like that."

Lips parted and the grin returned at Ella's words, he liked the choice of words. They sounded nice and could mean so many things, but with a blink Iros shut that part of through processing down before it could percolate further innuendos. "Drink what you got, or drink what I've got?" Mildly confused, noting the lingering the other man did for the female before clearing his throat and raising his brows. "Do I...uh...need to give the two of you a moment alone?"

"She wavers even now, but she's a stubborn one - not this night,?" drawled Bjorn appraisingly, and he grinned sidewise at Iros. "It won't be necessary, tonight. Enjoy your spirits."

From there, he moved on, stiff but capable, in the direction of the hearth but there was a healthy chuckle left behind in his wake.

Briefly, surprise flickered over his features, ate them up".and then he grinned, warm and wide, all the way to pale eyes. "Da, da." He was pleased, to hear such words! Recorking the bottle, he set it carefully to the floor, pale eyes watching her.

"Şi tu" Ce faci aici"" he asked, lifting the snifter to his mouth.

Awkward. The man felt severely awkward, what the hell was that just now" He hadn't a clue what to say next, the conversation at a stand-still as he searched his library of handlings with a woman with another male approaches. Sea hues glanced down at his boots, a hand tugging at the too tight sweater collar as he looked at Ella. "An ass" Seemed like he fancied you." And it wasn't. Bjorn approached the hearth but selected an overstuffed armchair for himself at a comfortable distance from the others spread out there, letting the witch work out her frustrations while never coming to the bait, cocksure as the *ss she'd accused him of being. His trek down into it was a slow one, but once he was seated, drink in hand, he seemed to radiate the a near post-sex satisfaction, inclining his head idly in Vera's direction as if to dismiss the need for unspoken apologies.

"Ştiu din Targoviste. Este un loc foarte frumos." Though, to be fair, he had not been there in many years. He leaned back, truly getting comfortable in the chair he'd claimed as his own for the evening. "Ce părere aveţi aici""

A warm fire and a full Dalwhinnie - he couldn't have been more content, some magnificent, relatively feral cat of a man stretching his legs out long and wide, boots flat to the floor and knees spread far enough to draw taut the seams of his old, weathered jeans, elbow sloped broad off the chair's arm. His eyes slit to the light of the flames, and arranging the broad bones of his shoulders further into the pillowing of the chair, his spine sunk half an inch. It occurred to him, as it usually did, that the inn would have been even better with chair-side service; he was entitled, in that way.

Nervously she ran a hand through her hair, long fingers tangling in the mass, belatedly wishing she had fashioned the wild ivy vine like strands into a braid. No matter, he may be a boyar but she was a Gypsy. She was expected to be something of a disarray.

She gave another glance towards Bjorn, sorry, despite his assurance it had been fine. But Vera couldn't help herself, truly, "Eu trăiesc aici acum, am trăit aici pentru un pic peste zece ani. Lucrez, traducere carti vechi pentru populatia."

Ella had to say it, maybe the headache would go away if she did. "Thank you and it is."

Stepping away. It may have looked like she was going to talk to Bjorn, because she was heading right that way. Except she stopped closer to Vera and her company. "Lartă mea, dar spririts tipe la mine moartea va veni în curând la calea ta. Te rog iartă-mi intruziune." Said to Vera, then she bowed her head and stepped away. Hopefully the woman would take caution and it wasn't too late.

"Umana a oraşului. Ce de tine" Esti un boier, da" Nu te duci acasă la ţară vechi?".....

Ella's approach redirected his focus from the fire, and although his expression was impossible to fully read, curiosity seemed to draw subtly around the corners of his mouth.

Now, that was cheerful.

The Gypsy stared after Ella...."So yeah," she muttered in English, "I've lived here for quite a while..."

...then slowly came to a close.

She sent a frown at Bjorn, thinking he had somehow set her up, color blazing like roses across her skin, turning it dusky. But she shook her head and laughed, at herself, before once again, picking the diadem up. Shrugging, she held it slightly out but not close enough for anyone to touch — just close enough for a good look.

"It is Mateus' and for some reason, he left it with me." Slowly she placed it on her own head, but the whole of it was rather too large, slipping down and gently covering her eyes, making a thick curtain of her tawny mane. The center piece, as noted before by some others, was a black, coiling cobra.

There was a subtle smile at his lips. "Your Mateus, is he a prince?" he teased gently, remembering her earlier words to him.

Bjorn's second brow joined the first, visibly opening his face as if to communicate his innocence via obliviousness - had he said something wrong, somewhere" If so, he couldn't quite recollect and so he endeared a brief-dimpled smile, quick as a devil's and twice as handsome. Watched, absentminded, her play with the diadem, but - for now, just for now - let the other gentleman do the talking.

"He is a ruler but forgive me, if I don't carelessly hand out information on him. I was told, smartly at that, the walls have ears and certain someone's know everything because they are in everything, and I had better be a good girl. Basically." If her tone was tart it was only because Vera still had a rebellious urge to spit in a certain Egyptian's eye.

"Ah,?" warm solemnity, finally, as if that explained it all. If he felt the impulse to grin, he restrained himself but he figured if he watched the pot long enough, the water had a better chance of boiling over while his eyes remained fixed.

"Oh," he said, a brow climbing. However...he didn't feel the need to ask for further explanation. Instead, he finished off the last of the brandy, debating the wisdom of a second snifter.

"And what do you do, Vera" Besides attract handsome men."

Amused, that fool's gold stare swerved momentarily over on the other male as if to assess whether he called himself handsome or delivered a compliment - but either way, his response would have been the same, the heat-slither of tawny eyes snaking back to Vera, nonjudgmental, easy. "Such matters have been known to complicate matters. But yes—what he asked, I would hear the answer as well."

Another gimp; maybe it was the rattling of the cane over the floor, but Bjorn slanted a broader glance barward and out in time to see that the witch had left at some point without him noticing it.

"I am a consultant, for most humans who can't decipher languages and need a translator to help with whatever information they are seeking. It is rare when a Fae or other supernatural asks for my aid but there have been times when I've received a call or two from that spectrum."

The Gypsy spoke rapidly, her eyes darting between the two men. Gently she pulled the diadem back off her head, refusing the blush on her face " "refusing it.

"I don't attract handsome men really, I just ....talk to people!"

"Can you translate Latin?"" Bjorn inserted, now with more interest.

"Yes, of course. I'm Catholic."

Then: "Any of the lost languages??" Fish on a hook, as it were.

She gave a slight look, a languid shrug. "I am good with languages, but if you're asking about Drow, sorry. I know only a little of that and I don't care for it to be honest."

Briefly, his features flickered into some expression, some gentle look of hurt. It was subtle, and gone in an instant.

Bjorn's speculation was visible, but if he had an interest in a translator, it was a discussion he left for another time; smoke-peppered fingers spread out, elbow to armchair, although the middle and index remained close around the string-fastened leaf. "I know a little Drow myself, but very little. I was more interested, I'd say, in the Latin for that I know near nothing of."

For his part, he didn't appear to take Vera's comment to heart. The Gypsy gave the other Romany man a confused look. Had she insulted him' Blinking, she curled her legs up, her arms wrapping around her knees. "Latin isn't hard at all for me, I don't have my cell phone case on me but if you want, I can leave you a number to contact me. I also work in the library downtown a lot. My fees are negotiable, depending on the extent of the text and how old it really is."

It was the standard spiel she gave any prospective client.

"It is perhaps better for another time,?" smoothed Bjorn, not wishing to disturb the peace with pen-fumbling and the pressures of business — husky, hoarse, he mouthed another drag, silver gathering back over the slow-burning edge. "But it is information that I will gladly keep in mind, should I have the need of a translator in the future."

"Better my business be with someone I know, than a stranger on the street,?" sensible, vague dimpling, but the other man's quietness earned a slow, light appraisal.

She gave him a slight nod, shifting a little, allowing her body to sink further into the cushions. "Yes," she agreed, pursing her lips, "Better someone you know, then a devil you don't."

"Depends on the devil,?" debated Bjorn, expressing teeth that seemed utterly innocuous.

She arched a brow at him, <I>innocuous </I>indeed. "Depends on the circumstances I would wager." She drawled, allowing a smile to match his but she glanced back to Mathias.

Softly, "Did I offend you sir?"

Gripping fingers around the rim of the whisky tumbler, Bjorn tossed back his head and turned it up over his mouth to drown the last down, and impatiently, he leveled a deliberate look at the bar as if to damn the absence of serving girls. In the aftermath, he'd winked warm and tame as any man might be, if he had such a handsome mouthful of teeth such as that - or, admittedly, not all too tame, despite momentary manners to the contrary. Curious to the man's answer for Vera, he quirked his own brow, mildly curious.

Or, twice curious and therefore very curious.

"Nu," he finally said quietly, looking back up.

"You did not - I apologize. My mind was just".wandering." As it was prone to do around certain things, certain words, certain concepts.

In the meanwhile, he played half-attentive audience to the familiar cripple and the minotaur as if it were of passing interest, emptied glass set aside on the adjacent table; his cigarillo was not long behind it, miniscule cherry ground down to leaf singed black and split spice.

The last thing the Gypsy wanted to do was offend one of her countryman, and one so familiar of face. She knew the name, who didn't' But along with Mathias there were as many Vlads and Radus given to the children of Romania. All the same she had to ask, "My full name is Vera Deya. You might be somewhat familiar with it, what is your family name?"

Bjorn, having likely found the hour late and too much time spent restively, slowly pushed out of his chair, the left arm slung and his motor function ungraceful, but capable. His farewells were quiet — subtle, amicable motions of an overlush mouth bordered in by the thorns of stubble, a dip of his head as if to excuse himself without the usual, civil entanglements of goodbye.

"Cronqvist," he said, lifting his eyes to her. It was actually a rather".unorthodox name, truth be told. "I have heard a name such as yours, though I cannot say that I know any Deya." His eyes drifted to Bjorn, and he offered the man a nod.

She gave the Bjorn a wave and smile.

After they were both gone " and she had supremely embarrassed herself " the Gypsy took in the room with a single glance and finally peeled away the Armani coat, leaving her in just the white blouse and matching suit pants. Draping the coat along the back of her couch she stretched out, placing the diadem at a haphazard angle on her tawny head.

It was comical to say the least.

continued

"Might what?" Vera licked her lips, an expression of distaste rippling across her face. She really didn't care for whiskey but she was too lazy to get up.

Oh! Smiling Vera reached over, tipping a good quarter or so into the mug. "Say when!"

She waited until the mug was topped off before offering a dry, "When. And I might 'hurl'. She would not, of course. Blasphemy upon blasphemy, that. The stench of blood, of -particular- blood blossomed through the inn on the waves of heat that radiated from the hearth.

Vera only smirked before allowing herself another short pull from the bottle. Another quiver and shudder from the Gypsy, her limbs feeling lax, her motions turning more languid. Mmm. But she wasn't drunk and finally set the bottle aside. There was nothing wrong with feeling good. But she wrinkled her nose. "What the hell am I smelling?"

"Death," she answered Vera quietly, lifting the mug to her lips for a long swallow that burned on two fronts and warmed the chill that had taken hold in her extremities.

"Death ..." Amber eyes turned a touch feral, snapping to Zahra. Pressing her mouth into a line Vera looked over her shoulder, towards the hearth. Idly she gave a pet to Icer.

The gypsy woman understood her rightly. Perhaps, down some long and winding pathway of time, Zahra's ancestors and Vera's wandered the same sands. Death. An old death, one long put-off at last made final. "Hmm," she said and asked, apropos of nothing, "Are you a soothesayer?"

"What cheerful things this place has to bring." The Gypsy crooned, narrowing her eyes down. She had known something had happen but what, she had no clue. Only heard talk of execution and just rewards.

Vera wondered what rewards were reaped. She had been about to reach for the bottle but stopped, her hand poised in the air, long fingers unfurled. "Soothesayer" No, nu, I leave the vapor and such to my Grandmother. I might feel something, if you catch my meaning. But I seek no visions. Dreams are enough to contend with." And she grabbed the whiskey bottle again despite the promise she had made to herself to slow down.

"Are you?"

"No," she answered her with a vague air of disappointment. She cast her gaze inot the mug of dosed coffee and saw no tea leaves or visions of the future to guide her. Just her own reflection, distorted in the dark liquid.

"I have no particular talents at all."

Vera considered Zahra but she had yet to take another shot from the bottle, tilting it in her hand, allowing the amber liquid to splash in its darkly colored prison of glass. "I would count myself only lucky if that were the case with me."

There was the door swinging open, and there was Bashir. Instantly dark eyes were scanning the inn for Zahra.

Who was at the bar, talking to a gypsy about fortunes or the telling lack thereof. She was nowhere near Audrey, Magenta, or Lyn at the couch, nowhere near the stitching of holes and the pungent smell of Alma's blood. And the smoke rising from the docks surely had nothing to do with her.

Icer got a long, long look from Vera. "If you mean Renna, you can forget that lunatic idea."

And there she was. He let the door close behind him and he was moving toward the bar, heavy footfalls well familiar to the Egyptian rose.

"May I have your newspaper?" she asked Vera suddenly, as she twisted on her seat just enough to watch the approach of the bigfooted man over the rim of her mug. The complimentary scents of whiskey and coffee almost drove away the smell of blood.

He came to a stop before her, the corners of his mouth turned down a bit. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Rumors were already rampant across the town about the beheading on the docks. Such was the town in which they lived. She saw annoyance and worry in the parenthetical etching around his mouth. "And I have been here. Where did you look, ya habbibi?"

"Hmm, sure, sure." The Gypsy had tucked it beneath the coat she had left on the bar hours ago. Fingers catching the edge of the paper and tugging it free with a twist of her wrist. She held it out to Zahra, curious as to why now she wanted it.

"Thank you," she said aside to the woman and tucked the folded paper under her hand to take home with them.

"Evidently not in the right place." Maybe a bit wryly. He held his hand out. "C'mon, I'm taking you home."

She made every effort to not hear Magenta. If she did not, then perhaps he would not.

The Gypsy gave this Magenta woman a glance. Maybe they were talking about the paper again. But then she had a thought, wrinkled her nose, and turned all her attention to the apparently departing Zahra.

"Perhaps some supper," she added hopefully as she set her mug aside in favor of her coat. "Bashir, this is Vera. Vera, this is, as you may have already ascertained, Bashir."

Oh, but he heard it, and there was more frowning, perhaps a slight narrowing of eyes. "Mmmm." Which was a noncommital, semi-dark response that probably meant 'ok' toward dinner. Gwumpy wittle Bashir. A glance over. "Hello, Vera." He even managed a smile. Look at that!

The Gypsy flashed a smile and a tiny wave. "Hallo Bashir. Be sure to check that paper!" Grins.

It was a good redirection. Zahra buttoned up her coat and took the paper in hand. She'd lost her gloves and hat someplace, so she was bareheaded and barehanded for the walk, as well.

"Goodnight, Vera. Apparently, we are leaving now." She gave Bashir a pointed little arch of her brow.

A soft smile. "Have a good night, luv."

"We are. I think you've had enough playing for tonight." Yes, that tone was a bit....angry' No. Something else. He pulled. "Goodnight, Vera." He always seemed to meet people in grumpy circumstances.

Zahra was going to get it when she got home.

Brow arch. Someone was in troooouble. "Good night."

"And you. Dream well." She managed to get out before Bashir asserted himself and she was being drawn through the room toward the door.