((Author's Note: The following was originally posted on RoH's House Dragoon-Talanador board in May 2006. This is the first bout Charlie had with the "curse" and gives some background into her relationship with Ruke LaChayne. Everything here was written with the help of Ruke's player and is reposted with his permission. As I'm posting it all at one time, I'll make it sticky so it doesn't fill the front page and will later go in and make it normal.))
Charlie tilted her head and pursed her lips while tapping the eraser of a pencil rhythmically on the newspaper in front of her. 13 down. Eight letters. "A small single-edged katana sword," she murmured under her breath as if saying the words aloud might aid in solving the puzzle.
"A Wakizahi," a deep voice announced. Her gaze immediately jumped up from the newspaper to her visitor. The man before her had taken a lean against the doorway of her office. His dark coat was pushed back enough so that he could sling his hands in the pockets of his tailored pants. He had perfectly manicured dark hair with a set of cool blue eyes that shone brightly with boundless debasement. He was trouble -- the type of trouble that ended with women spreading their legs or men forking over their wallets.
The bell on the front door of the House of Retribution had never sounded but that certainly should not surprise her being as who the intruder was. "Well, if it isn't the dashing counterfeit of Campania," Charlie snorted in greeting.
Ruke LaChayne feigned a look of hurt as he stepped into the room. One exquisitely hand-sewn fine leather boot hit the floor boards after the other. "Are such hurtful words truly spewing out of the lovely mouth of the assassin of Abruzzo! What sort of violent crossword puzzle are you in the process of completing?"
Charlie ignored the question and glanced down at her newspaper. "You are wrong. Wakizahi does not fit."
Ruke placed a hand on the newspaper, turning it to face him. "Ah, that's because you have ten across incorrect." His steely gaze was leveled on her and a hint of a smile appeared once again on his lips. "'A dagger with a double-edged, triangular blade, often hidden under clothing' is a stiletto. I'm disappointed that you did not know that one. You have killed more than your fair share of men with such a blade."
A palm was slapped down violently on the newspaper as she drew it back across the desk towards her. "The last time I saw you, you were running like a coward leaving me to be caught red-handed in Leonardo Rhamat's diamond stash."
Ruke plucked a round, red mint from a dish at the corner of Charlie's desk and popped it in his mouth. He then pressed both hands on the desk and leaned across it with a lascivious smile. "It doesn't appear you received a scratch on that delicious form of yours, but uh, if you'd like, I can take a closer look." With the tip of his tongue, he pushed the mint against his upper lip and rolled it back forth, wagging his brows.
That was the moment she choose to strike. She lashed out a clenched fist, catching Ruke in the right eye. He grunted and stumbled back from the desk in surprise. As she rounded the desk Charlie violently backhanded the lamp that was on her desk, sending it crashing to the floor in an explosion of porcelain.
"Holy Christ, Charlie." Her grumbled as he dropped his hand from his abused eye and held up both hands innocently. "Must we do this every time we meet?"
He was answered with a knee to the groin. Ruke's large form immediately curled protectively as a pained groan escaped his throat. "Oh, Ruke, I think I might have broken something down there. Now how will you ever woo the desperate wives and impressionable daughters of governors and lords?" Charlie stated in a mock sympathetic tone as she watched his anguish proudly.
He launched up from his curl, slamming the back of a closed hand against Charlie's right cheek. She stumbled back from the blow as the taste of blood hit her throat. "Tsk, tsk. That sounds like jealousy. Sorry, Charlie, but I'm really not into you in that way."
Her green eyes spun back to face him, spitting a mouthful of blood in the direction of his expensive boots. "Like you could ever have a taste of me," she grunted with stifled breath before drawing a knee up to her chest and then launching a boot out in a sidekick.
The move was too slow. Ruke's hands locked around her ankle and tugged her towards him, causing her balance to be upset. She tucked herself in time to keep the back of her head from taking the brunt of the impact with the floorboards. Before she had a chance to leap to her feet, Ruke was on top of her with a wry smirk. "Now be honest, this is what you really want," he whispered in a rich heart-melting tone.
"What can I say? You make me go weak in the knees," she stated in an equally soft and sultry voice. Then instantly, Charlie shoved the palm of a hand into his gut. She felt the air being pushed free of his lungs and Remy rolled off of her gasping. She quickly scrambled to her feet. She drew her leg up and went to bring the heel of a foot down on his chest but, just in time, Ruke rolled away from the blow. Her heel landed hard against the wooden floorboards and caused her to have to momentarily check her balance.
The brief moment was all Ruke needed. He was on his feet in the blink of an eye and tackled her into a wall. Charlie's head thudded against the interior exposed brick and she allowed a muffled whimper at the pain. He pinned her against the wall with the weight of his own, larger frame and frowned darkly down at his bloodied old friend. "Truce?"
"Truce," she disgruntedly spat out in return.
Ruke grinned a victorious grin. "Do I need to make you pinky swear?"
"I said 'truce'!" The grin never fading, Ruke released his hold on Charlie and moved back towards the chair in front of her desk. He brushed himself off and straightened his clothing before taking a seat in the chair as if the brawl had never happened. Rubbing the back of her neck, Charlie retreated to her chair behind the desk. As she sat down, Ruke eased the grin and crossed one ankle over the opposite leg.
"What exactly can I attribute this surprise visit to, Ruke?"
He reached down to pick a piece of lint off of his pants before returning his pert gaze back on Charlie. "I hear you've been on the straight and narrow for several months ... so by now you must be terribly bored and looking for a bit of fun."
Charlie allowed a slow smile with her bloodied lips. "Keep talking, you dirty mutt. I like what I am hearing."
Charlie tilted her head and pursed her lips while tapping the eraser of a pencil rhythmically on the newspaper in front of her. 13 down. Eight letters. "A small single-edged katana sword," she murmured under her breath as if saying the words aloud might aid in solving the puzzle.
"A Wakizahi," a deep voice announced. Her gaze immediately jumped up from the newspaper to her visitor. The man before her had taken a lean against the doorway of her office. His dark coat was pushed back enough so that he could sling his hands in the pockets of his tailored pants. He had perfectly manicured dark hair with a set of cool blue eyes that shone brightly with boundless debasement. He was trouble -- the type of trouble that ended with women spreading their legs or men forking over their wallets.
The bell on the front door of the House of Retribution had never sounded but that certainly should not surprise her being as who the intruder was. "Well, if it isn't the dashing counterfeit of Campania," Charlie snorted in greeting.
Ruke LaChayne feigned a look of hurt as he stepped into the room. One exquisitely hand-sewn fine leather boot hit the floor boards after the other. "Are such hurtful words truly spewing out of the lovely mouth of the assassin of Abruzzo! What sort of violent crossword puzzle are you in the process of completing?"
Charlie ignored the question and glanced down at her newspaper. "You are wrong. Wakizahi does not fit."
Ruke placed a hand on the newspaper, turning it to face him. "Ah, that's because you have ten across incorrect." His steely gaze was leveled on her and a hint of a smile appeared once again on his lips. "'A dagger with a double-edged, triangular blade, often hidden under clothing' is a stiletto. I'm disappointed that you did not know that one. You have killed more than your fair share of men with such a blade."
A palm was slapped down violently on the newspaper as she drew it back across the desk towards her. "The last time I saw you, you were running like a coward leaving me to be caught red-handed in Leonardo Rhamat's diamond stash."
Ruke plucked a round, red mint from a dish at the corner of Charlie's desk and popped it in his mouth. He then pressed both hands on the desk and leaned across it with a lascivious smile. "It doesn't appear you received a scratch on that delicious form of yours, but uh, if you'd like, I can take a closer look." With the tip of his tongue, he pushed the mint against his upper lip and rolled it back forth, wagging his brows.
That was the moment she choose to strike. She lashed out a clenched fist, catching Ruke in the right eye. He grunted and stumbled back from the desk in surprise. As she rounded the desk Charlie violently backhanded the lamp that was on her desk, sending it crashing to the floor in an explosion of porcelain.
"Holy Christ, Charlie." Her grumbled as he dropped his hand from his abused eye and held up both hands innocently. "Must we do this every time we meet?"
He was answered with a knee to the groin. Ruke's large form immediately curled protectively as a pained groan escaped his throat. "Oh, Ruke, I think I might have broken something down there. Now how will you ever woo the desperate wives and impressionable daughters of governors and lords?" Charlie stated in a mock sympathetic tone as she watched his anguish proudly.
He launched up from his curl, slamming the back of a closed hand against Charlie's right cheek. She stumbled back from the blow as the taste of blood hit her throat. "Tsk, tsk. That sounds like jealousy. Sorry, Charlie, but I'm really not into you in that way."
Her green eyes spun back to face him, spitting a mouthful of blood in the direction of his expensive boots. "Like you could ever have a taste of me," she grunted with stifled breath before drawing a knee up to her chest and then launching a boot out in a sidekick.
The move was too slow. Ruke's hands locked around her ankle and tugged her towards him, causing her balance to be upset. She tucked herself in time to keep the back of her head from taking the brunt of the impact with the floorboards. Before she had a chance to leap to her feet, Ruke was on top of her with a wry smirk. "Now be honest, this is what you really want," he whispered in a rich heart-melting tone.
"What can I say? You make me go weak in the knees," she stated in an equally soft and sultry voice. Then instantly, Charlie shoved the palm of a hand into his gut. She felt the air being pushed free of his lungs and Remy rolled off of her gasping. She quickly scrambled to her feet. She drew her leg up and went to bring the heel of a foot down on his chest but, just in time, Ruke rolled away from the blow. Her heel landed hard against the wooden floorboards and caused her to have to momentarily check her balance.
The brief moment was all Ruke needed. He was on his feet in the blink of an eye and tackled her into a wall. Charlie's head thudded against the interior exposed brick and she allowed a muffled whimper at the pain. He pinned her against the wall with the weight of his own, larger frame and frowned darkly down at his bloodied old friend. "Truce?"
"Truce," she disgruntedly spat out in return.
Ruke grinned a victorious grin. "Do I need to make you pinky swear?"
"I said 'truce'!" The grin never fading, Ruke released his hold on Charlie and moved back towards the chair in front of her desk. He brushed himself off and straightened his clothing before taking a seat in the chair as if the brawl had never happened. Rubbing the back of her neck, Charlie retreated to her chair behind the desk. As she sat down, Ruke eased the grin and crossed one ankle over the opposite leg.
"What exactly can I attribute this surprise visit to, Ruke?"
He reached down to pick a piece of lint off of his pants before returning his pert gaze back on Charlie. "I hear you've been on the straight and narrow for several months ... so by now you must be terribly bored and looking for a bit of fun."
Charlie allowed a slow smile with her bloodied lips. "Keep talking, you dirty mutt. I like what I am hearing."