((Tuesday, April 1, 2008 at Night - Continued))

~ He likes you. ~

The voice spoke in her thoughts as the orange tabby sat on the kitchen floor behind her. Izira kept her back to the feline, forcing her attention on the dishes she was washing instead. Her voice was quiet and low when she responded, ?You do not know that.?

~ He likes you and you like him. ~

?Silas!? Her voice carried a hiss of warning towards the cat as he flicked an ear back at her. Izira?s whole body was tense with her irritation that Silas was bothering her with this now. ?Alain is? a friend. He?s? in a rocky place with his? with Cassandra. Perhaps he is just? lonely.? Speaking in pauses as she was trying to find a voice to her thoughts, the dished were washed and one by one dried by focusing her gift. She moved to put the plate away, stopping and pointing it at the cat that followed her with his eyes while keeping his body stationary. ?The desire for comfort does not translate to sincere affections towards another.?

~ You doubt his sincerity towards you? ~

The cat?s head canted, the voice in her mind pointed. ?No, no, damn it Silas!? The plate found itself back home with a louder clatter against the other plates. ?Look. I am tired. It has been a long day. Please, just drop it.?

~ Fine. ~

The voice was a begrudging agreement and Izira knew that meant she would only have so long of a break before the subject was broached again. Dishes done with, she moved towards the door leading to the back hallway, ?I?m going to bed.?

~ Alone. ~

?Good night, Silas.? came her response through clenched teeth. The door to the back hallway opened and closed behind with a barely controlled slam.

((Sunday, April 6, 2008 at Night - Played in IM))

((*Note: This follows Moments Away from the Inn for 4/6/08))

When Alain had felt Izira seeking him, he had turned around. Once they were together, however, he still wasn't ready to tell her what was going on. They rode in silence in his truck back to the Forgotten Layers Inn.

"Sorry for the silence," he says as soon as he's parking the truck. He turns and looks at her, wondering how best to explain without worrying her any more, and realizes there's no way - his eyes lower. He's been silent the entire ride back to the Forgotten Layers, and she's been able to feel his turmoil. "...I didn't want to lose my composure. Not while I still had to drive."

She thought that they could have walked or just remained where they had been without returning to the inn, but those thoughts she didn't voice. They were unhelpful and mean thoughts which wasn't what was needed. Instead she turned as much as she could towards Alain, mindful of her knees and skirt. Speaking in a calm and understanding voice. "We're here now, will you tell me what's going on?"

He looks to the side, and then back at her. "You remember why my end of our bond is hidden, don't you?"

A slow nod, concern was etching her brow.

"This is the only place I can really speak about this - especially now..." He rubs at the back of his neck, face and eyes lowering again. "It's begun. I've met with the evil men I'm to infiltrate... which triggers certain... things, certain safeguards, in my mind." He massages his right hand. "They believe they can trust me, because those safeguards make my mind look as monstrous and depraved as theirs... and I spent hours struggling to keep that illusion from becoming a reality." He shakes his head, slowly. "It's taken a toll on my mind... and people I've counted as allies bore witness to the deal I made with these evil men. At best they hate me from afar - at worst, they'll try to kill me, for what it appears I'm doing to them."

Her mouth went dry as he confessed his dealings to her. Though there were no exact details, the weight of it upon him she could only start to imagine. A hand started to reach out for him and stalled. She had avoided a number of simple things such as touch since that night in the kitchen. Not that she wasn't happy to have him around the inn when she could, she had only desired to give Alain the space he needed. She racked her brain for something comforting to say, but could not find her knowledge enough to speak such pretty words. A hand finally moving to his brow, to lift his eyes to her own. To search out those eyes, to show him that not everyone could believe that of him.

He looks at her, and his bright blue eyes are wide, scared... vulnerable. "God help me, I need strength," he whispers, and looks down from her again. His hand falls open on the console between them, hoping from hers, that somehow he can be shielded from this nightmare. "I thought I was better prepared... I really believed I'd be stronger than this."

She caught that hand in both of hers, moving to hold it close to her heart. Needing him to look at her again, to stay with her and not drown himself in the ocean of his thoughts. The distance between them was closed, but only slightly. "Alain. You are strong. You can do this. You are not that person - You cannot become that person. The fact that this bother's you so shows it."

He swallows and nods, looking at her, watching her eyes closely. "I know... I know who I am, and I won't lose that... but I need strength to go back to RhyDin tomorrow, and pick up the charade right where I left off. I can't let myself give it up."

"Then don't give up, Alain." Her hands gently squeezing his own. Her voice softened. "You've always struck me as a man of his word. You can do this Alain, solely because you said you could at the start."

He nods slowly, and then looks at their hands again as they fall back to the console between them. He breathes a long sigh, as he knows what he's about to ask. "Will you stay with me tonight? I don't mean anything else by it... just that you stay with me."

Izira's heart screamed inside her chest, torn as it was. She had seen Cassandra at the inn, had been reminded of the 'break'... which Izira had been trying to come to terms with. But this, the here and now, it wasn't about romance - was it? No. It was about a friend needing a friend. Nothing else. Her heart settled. Nodding her head she spoke softly, "Of course, Alain."

He smiles, just a touch, just a moment, and nods. "Thank you, Izira." After a few moments longer holding her hand, he opens his door and steps out.

Izira opened the door on the passenger side, stepping out as well. The door shut quietly as possible behind her. Looking towards the inn and wondering if anyone was still awake.

It's that narrow band of time when everyone affiliated with Esperance - even Alain, most nights - is asleep. Some will awaken as early as four, but most just after sunrise. Alain walks with her to the door and holds it for her, then follows her in, shedding his coat along the way. There is nothing he can think to say, nothing he feels he needs to say - his only need that he's aware of is her presence.

Izira entered following Alain. Glancing about she found the two ravens perched quietly in their cage and no sign of Silas. It was a small blessing. Perhaps the feline was out tormenting unfortunate rodents. The rabbit, Pascal, tended to and safely out of the way. There wasn't anything or anyone needing her attention but him.

He defers to her, looking to the door into the back of the inn where her room is, and back to her in silent question.

When he had asked her to stay with him she had thought his own room. Now, with his silent question she thought that thinking they would be in his room wasn't very thought out as it would be more noticed towards the general eyes of anyone staying in the inn. Whereas, from her quarters Alain could have easily been in the garden through the kitchens or in a conference hall. She nodded him onwards.

He seems to remember the way well enough, with only a few glances at the odd doorway or hallway, and at last reaches her quarters. He finds a decent place for his coat and canvas backpack, collects a small handful of toiletries from the backpack, and with a brief smile - weak, after the burdens of the day - for her, slips into the bath.

Izira did not follow. Nor said anything to him as he entered the bath which was far more than any other bath in the inn. Hanging plants, blossomed in purple and white, scented the room. The oversized tub that could easily fit four, edges sunk into a platform that allowed the water to overflow and be drained away. The shower contained floor to ceiling tiles of dark blue veined with aqua green flecks behind a clear glass door. A shower head fixed towards either end of the shower. The mirror for the sink, arched over it like a reflective doorway. Built in lower shelves to hold items that were needed.

He'd stand and appreciate it more, though it is noted, but his mind's partly shut down - defense mechanism. Soon enough he returns from the bath, and sits on the edge of the bed to undress, at least partly, leaving on his pair of jeans and a white undershirt. He's particularly occupied with the old scars on his right hand, at least until she gets back.

Having gone in with a bundle of clothing, Izira made short work of taking a shower. Though the hot water felt good. When she stepped out of the shower she wore a silk sleeping set. Long pants and a button-up top were black with faint silver designs. Her dress and shoes put away. She had gone ahead and dried her hair while in the bathroom.

He's lying in her bed, on top of the covers, when she exits - his eyes move from his right hand to her, and his hand lowers to his chest, rising and falling with his deep breath.

Silence seemed best for the moment. The bed was huge, mattress sitting in a frame of dark wood. Looking around the room one would know that in this area Izira was good to spoil herself. She moved towards the bed, lifting up only the top blanket - a thick white down comforter - and sliding in. She settled herself on a pillow, an arm up over the covers and placing her hand over his.

His fingers slide through hers slowly, and he turns to face her. He lifts her hand to kiss it and gives her a small smile, feeling a bit better already with this little intimacy.

She gave him a smile, as slowly the light cast by the lamp next to the bed started to fade. Softly, "Goodnight, Alain."

" 'Night, Izira."

((Saturday, April 12, 2008 near sunset - Played in IM))

The afternoon sun was sinking in the sky as Eva made her way to the Forgotten Layers Inn. She had a good sense of direction, but places of mystical or magical origins bewildered her scientific sensibility and she found herself consulting the map Izira had made up more often than she expected. As the Inn finally came in to view, Eva's steps slowed, pausing to admire it for a moment. It was entirely unexpected in some ways, more beautiful than she pictured, and yet it was also perfectly Izira. Eva's boots followed the stone pathway through the front garden and up the stairs.

Izira was puttering about the main room of the inn, lunch had come and gone and the clean-up for it had been finished a while before with several helping hands. Now she was checking the blooms that were set into glasses in the center of the tables, refreshing those vases that needed them. High heels clicked against the wooden flooring, today's black pair actually having a slight open toe. Her charcoal skirt was fitted, ending just at the knee and had a slit in the side that was held together by three smart looking back buttons. A white blouse with the collar undone at the first two buttons, looked more casual than messy. Her hair worn down, fell into her face as she leaned over to inspect one of the many flowers.

Eva paused a moment on the porch, looking out at the garden and the surrounding wilderness. She knew Esperance, the settlement everyone was talking about, was being built somewhere in the distance. She'd thought Tucker might have enjoyed working on it... helping people... but she hadn't seen him to suggest it. They hadn't really been seeing each other at all. Eva turned back to the Inn and pulled open the door. Her eyes skimmed over the room, taking it all in. Fresh flowers. Now that was something that the Red Dragon didn't have. Also didn't have Izira. Eva smiled. "Afternoon."

The sun could be put to shame by the smile that came upon Izira's face as she spotted Eva. Flowers in hand, she moved towards her friend, "Eva! You've come." The distance closed, she wrapped her arms about Eva giving her a familiar hug. "Did you have any trouble getting here?"

She smiled and returned the hug, turning her head to press a friendly kiss to Izira's cheek. "Not really." She shrugged her shoulders. "I had the map." She took a step back and looked around again, taking in more of the details. "This... this is really beautiful."

"Would you like a tour?" Asking as she moved towards the bar were a larger vase hand been left with water and placing the remaining flowers she held into the vase. A glance back at Eva as she expected a response, she distractedly put the flowers into some nicer array than that which they had originally been dropped in.

"I'd like that." Eva watched Izira. It wasn't that Eva wasn't feminine. She was. But she wasn't a homemaker or a hostess. She had nothing in her telling her what was the right or proper thing to do. Not like Izira. Izira's touch with the flowers reminded her of her mother.

"Then you shall have one!" Flowers left on the bar top for the time being, Izira returned to Eva linking an arm through hers. "This, of course is the main room. The bar. That door leads to the kitchen and there's a trapdoor behind the bar that leads to the cellar. Public restrooms through there." Her other hand moving around to point out the items mentioned, she indicated the little alcove where her piano and a currently empty tarnished silver bird cage hung from the ceiling. It was a very large cage, but Eva had seen at least one of the large birds that would rest there so it could be expected. "My piano. Mostly I only play it when I am alone, but at times I am convinced to entertain so I keep it out here. And that is where Hope and Light would be if they were about." Then Izira was stepping towards the stairway and bar. "Down that hallway are the conference rooms. Up there are the guest rooms. Would you want to see either of those?" She paused, considering... sometimes one guestroom was like another, so perhaps they weren't worth looking at?

"Oh..." Eva smiled, looking around at everything she pointed at, her shoulder against Izira's. "I didn't know you played the piano..." Did she want to see a guest room... a room was a room, wasn't it? "I don't think that's necessary... I'm sure they're nice... if they're as nice as all this..."

"I play. I sing too. But that is not common knowledge and I think we must keep it that way." A wide smile, she led Eva towards the break in the bar and into the kitchen. It was fashioned enough to make the truest of chefs jealous. It wasn't worth doing if you couldn't do it right, which was why perhaps Forgotten Layers didn't have a man-eating stew in the kitchen but spotless counters and cookware awaiting their time to shine. She pointed at one door while heading towards another, "That leads out to the kitchen's garden. I try to grow what I can here, though Alain's lot has put a strain on that." Her smile showing she had no hard feelings to the fact as she brought Eva into a hallway that eventually led to her study. The door open, the wide desk back by built-in shelves and floor to ceiling windows can be seen before entering. Upon entering there was the door to her bedroom to the left, white marble tile floors meeting the wooden floor at the doorway. To the right the room was broken by a fireplace that had a bear skin rug laid out before it. Beyond the fireplace a collection of arms chairs and couches surrounded a low coffee table... a perfect spot for smaller more intimate meetings or just to read. Still surrounded by those floor to ceiling windows. Another door that led out to the gardens was on the far side of the wall. "My quarters."

"Izira... this is... this is beautiful..." Eva let go of her friend's arm to walk towards the floor to ceiling windows, looking out at the afternoon, a warm yellow spring glow on the gardens. "This place is... really special... I probably shouldn't have expected anything else from you."

"That's very kind of you to say, Eva." Izira moved into the room, looking around herself. Even living here she often found herself lost within the many books and treasures all over again. "The inn, I think, had a good hand in it. Perhaps the land itself." Her voice soft, caring the love she felt for her home upon it.

A hand pushed through her hair, Eva turned back to look at Izira, with a smile. "Show me the garden... will you?"

She nodded, moving towards the outside door and opening it. Letting Eva exit before she stepped out after her and shut the door behind them. Just a ways from the door a rabbit hutch had been set up for the rabbit in Izira's care. A black rabbit with a reddish-orange patch on his forehead that almost looked like a flame. "I think Pascal would enjoy a venture in the gardens as well." Picking up the animal and holding him in her arms. He was calm being held, Small nose twitching as black eyes looked around. There was a path along the gardens, tall hedges and blossoming trees.

Eva reached out and gently scratched the rabbit's head as he settled into Izira's arms. "Hello, Pascal." And then started off into the garden with Izira. She breathed deeply of the cool spring air, and looked over at Izira as she followed the garden path. "So how have things been going?" Then a little more softly. "You seen any more of Alain?"

"I have." A short paused before she continued, "He stayed the night with me on Sunday. Sleeping, nothing else but nice. Helped me with breakfast in the morning, though there were many other hands and it wasn't quite the private situation." A soft chuckle, recalling the antics of those in the kitchen that particular morning. "Things are going well, I would say. How is life treating you? Did you keep your promise?" Following along side Eva as she carried the rabbit. Every now and then the path meet with a little clearing that would have a bench to sit upon. A couple with small fish ponds in view.

Eva glanced over at Izira, trying to read the expression on her face as she spoke of Alain, and then noted how quickly she moved on from the topic. She raised a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "My promise?" Eva searched her mind, and then flushed deeply. "Well... sort of... I was... pretty drunk... Faenix followed me home. Though I yelled at him the whole way."

"Faenix..." Repeating the name, It seemed a little familiar, "From the group that night, yes? Well at least someone went with you. Truly, you test your safety." And she followed that comment with a frown. "I know you have your gun and all, but I do not know how effective that sort of protection can be when you're not sound of mind."

Eva laughed and admitted it. "Not very good." Then she shrugged. "I guess... thing is... in my line of work... the usual...uh... trouble, tends to avoid me."

She paused, looking towards Eva. A hand moving from the rabbit to tuck a strand of hair away from the woman's face as she considered her thoughts and her friend. "I hope it remains that way. But know, for whatever reason, there is always room for you here."

"Thanks Izira." She took another deep breath, a hand reaching out to touch one of the passing bushes, feeling the leaves, then looked at her. "I'm happy in the Marketplace. I know I need to move... I know it's not nearly as permanent as a place like this would be... but... I like it there."

An understanding nod, she continued on. "Well, unless it becomes truly dangerous for you there you needed worry about me barging in and whisking you away from there." A light chuckle, following the flamboyant comment. She pointed towards a bench that was sheltered in shade, a patch of clovers some ways from it. "Shall we sit?"

Eva laughed softly, and then nodded. "That sounds nice." Then she glanced quickly at Izira. "The uh... sitting... not the whisking... although I'm sure that would be nice too..." She flushed and then settled on the bench, leaning back, her legs stretched out in front of her crossed at the ankles. "It is good to have a place to come to... I mean... this must feel like home to you... doesn't it?"

"It does. More so than anything ever has." She admitted, placing the rabbit near the clover to enjoy before joining Eva on the bench. Sitting with her legs also crossed at the ankles but curled under her and the bench, turned towards Eva.

Eva leaned back on her hands, watching the rabbit for a moment, and then looked over at Izira. "How long have you been here? I can tell you've put a lot of work into the place."

"Ten years? Around that. Hard to clearly remember the first days of my being here." Starting her response as she watched the rabbit, but returning her eyes towards Eva's gaze. "Long time."

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she nodded. "Yeah. Ten years is a long time." She sat up a bit and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Long time."

Izira's brow perked at the expression on Eva's face as she considered the time. She didn't ask what Eva's history was, but her silence welcomed Eva to share if she wanted too.

Eva was quiet for a long time. She didn't look at Izira, she looked out at the garden, at the golden light filtering through the trees from the lowering sun. Then finally she glanced over for a moment. "I've never... really... really had a friend... I don't know what... well I don't know what kinds of things I'm supposed to tell you, and what you don't really care to know..."

Izira shrugged, tilting her head at Eva. "I care to know everything you care to share, Eva." A smile breaking her face, "It has been a while since I have had a friend to talk to as well. True there has been Alain... but.... girls are different." Her smile breaking further before going back to normal. "The truth Alain knows about me, I told to him for a reason. So he could do something for me, something I trusted him to do. He doesn't know all my past."

Eva nodded, looking at her. "The truth about your..." She wasn't sure how to say it. She held up a hand palm up as if she could conjure a flame in there too. Then she found the word. "Your power?"

"My gift." Izira agreed and nodded. "Yes. I needed him to find out who my birth father was, because he was obviously more than the traveling minstrel he played at being." Her smile soft at the joke, she left out the part about the death of one father by another and all that which followed. "Alain found out that simply put--my father's people are a race of elemental beings and I carry a gift for the flames."

Eva nodded, her hand falling back to her lap. She reached over and plucked a small white flower from a near bush, then twirled it between her fingers. "It's important to know where you come from. Are you in touch with your father now? Now that Alain found him for you?"

Her eyes looking off, taking in the horizon. "He found his body." Glancing back at Eva but for a moment before returning her eyes to the skyline. "I already knew he was dead. He was killed before I was born."

Eva watched her a moment, and then nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. But I imagine it was helpful to learn what Alain was able to find out." The small flower spun in her fingers, then she set it down on the bench between them.

"It was. I have a handle on my gift now, after Alain's help." She smiled, turning back to Eva. The thoughts surrounding her family vanishing from her mind. A glance at the flower, she picked it up and twirled it a little mimicking Eva's actions.

"I don't... have much experience with those kinds of things... like magic and stuff... I'm much more comfortable in the uh... physical world..." She frowned because she knew that wasn't the right way to say it. What Izira did was very much physical, elemental as she said. Eva toyed with the bottom edge of her leather jacket. "Anyhow... you know what I mean."

"I do." She grinned, leaning forward and tucking the flower behind Eva's ear. Then canting her head to take a look, with the flower there it kept her hair from the scar she so often tried to cover and which Izira didn't seem to mind at all.

Eva raised a hand self-consciously and looked at her. A hint of color rose to her cheeks, and she fidgeted some more with her jacket. Then she suddenly turns more fully towards her. "Hey, are you going to the uh... engagement thingy... at Peredhil's place? For Johnny and Sianna?"

Izira broke into a light laugh at Eva's sudden jump of topic, then shook her head. "I don't know that I have met any of those people you've named. I was unaware of the event."

"Well... Johnny is the bartender who served us at the booth the other night. You know, the one with that great smile." As soon as she says that, she flushes again, and again raises a hand to self-consciously cover her scar, imagining it getting darker with all the blushing she's doing. "He's getting married, and his friend, Peredhil, is throwing a party. You should come with me. It could be fun. More fun if we're together anyhow"

Izira considered Eva's invite. Johnny had seemed a nice fello and she could be in agreement with Eva's assessment of his smile. But she didn't know if that qualified her to attend such an affair. Of course, if Eva was going and she was her guest there was less issue with the matter. Izira thought a night out with Eva would be fun. "I will come with you, then."

"Oh great!" Eva grinned, and then sighs with relief. "I hate going to these things alone. The opera opening was total torture. I was sitting next to this old woman who took pity on me." She looked at Izira, and then tugged on her jacket. "Oh but this one won't be like that. It'll be fun... and I'll get to introduce you to more people."

"But you'll pace yourself, won't you?" Thinking of the plunge of social-ness she'd gotten then last time and how well that had gone. Well, really it wasn't the group?s fault that the ex of the man she'd been dealing with had come in. Nor that Alain had appeared with his internal crisis. Even with dealing with those at the inn, somehow dealing with people outside of her position as an inn keeper made her nervous at times. Perhaps because she felt safe at Forgotten Layers and not always so beyond the barriers of her home.

"Yes, I promise to pace myself." Eva smiled a little guiltily. "I promise you won't have to worry about me." Then she looked over at Izira. "Tucker might be there. Johnny has the shift after him."

"Might he?" Izira bit the edge of her lip, already considering what she would wear and what her friend might be wearing. Though she didn't voice the plan she was formulating far as Eva's evening attire was concerned. "Have you gotten to see him recently?"

Eva shook her head, reaching up to take the flower from behind her ear, letting her hair fall back into place over her face. "No... we're... taking some time apart from each other... but it would be nice to see him... if he happens to be there..."

"Even if not we will make the most of the evening." Nodding her head in firm agreement to her statement, smiling towards Eva.

Eva nodded in agreement. "Yeah, of course." She sighed and smiled faintly. "I guess I should be going then anyhow... need time to get ready." She impulsively leaned towards Izira for a hug. "I'm glad... I'm glad you're my friend."

"I feel the same, Eva." Hugging Eva, this time she was the one to lightly kiss the other's cheek. "I will see you later then?"

Eva nodded, and smiled, exhaling as she straightened up, and then stood. For a moment, she seemed entirely at ease. "Thank you for having me, Izira. I'll see you tonight." She raised a hand, then rubbed it on her thigh as she started to make her way down the path around the side of the Inn to leave the way she came.

"Anytime, Eva." Came Izira's response, watching as Eva made her departure. She thought she would stay and linger a while before getting ready. Pascal still seemed to be enjoying himself, nearly hidden now in the shadow of a bush. Better to let him wander out than to submit to a game of chase just yet.

((Saturday, April 12, 2008 late night - Played in IM - Continued))

It started slowly at first. The two learning the movements of the other's lips. Soon instinct takes over, guiding their hands and lips. Soft sighs and moans escaping from their forms, though the actions had gone no further than heavy petting. The sounds were given more to a growing desire than one that was being completely satiated. Alain?s shirt was undone, allowing Izira?s hand to traverse the scarred plain of his torso and back. He introduced himself to the soft curves of her body from over the fitted dress. Need grew. Izira?s dress was undone and pulled slightly down to expose the sheer brazier she wore. She caught her hand grasping the band of his jeans, realizing she was seconds away from going to far?she pulled away.

"Sorry," he says softly, after a silent moment.

Smile soft, she steps towards him again. Kissing him gently, a hand against his cheek. "Don't apologize. I stopped because I was about to forget myself. You have that effect."

He pauses again, and then grins and teases, "Yeah, I have that affect on people..." Arms loop around her waist, though his intent is less serious than before.

"You, perhaps." Tilting her head and looking up to him. Resting her arms around him.

His expression softens, and he kisses her again. "I can feel spring pretty strongly tonight... We'd better go to separate beds."

"Yes..." She agreed softly, if not completely happily. But she smiled and stole another kiss from him. "Sleep well, Alain." Forgetting her umbrella out in the main room, she planned to retire from here.

He's a bit sharper - he knows crime scenes, after all. "Don't forget your umbrella," he advises, kissing twice beneath her chin on her throat just to be mean, then on her lips and breaking away, to collect his backpack. And his shirt. And his coat. These are all important.

Of course, she followed him out. Half watching him as she sought out the umbrella. The line of his back and the flex of his muscles were taken in, all to come into play for a very elaborate fantasy later.

He buttons up a few of his shirt buttons, carelessly, and heaves his backpack and coat over one shoulder. Then he grins easily, making his way over to her to steal a very long kiss, fingers gathering hair at the back of her neck. He lets go finally, and smiles: "Sweet dreams."

Umbrella in hand, she returned the kissed. Lips breaking from his when he pulled away with a smile. "You as well."

He watches her until he's halfway up the stairs, and finally looks away. When he's at his door, opening it, someone addresses him in French, and after a long pause, he replies. A few more things are said, and at last he shuts his door, and someone else shuts theirs.

When Alain was out of sight Izira made for her own quarters. Umbrella and coat in hand. Waiting on the bed for her was a large feline, purring loudly. "Not a word, Silas. Not a word." Said as she shut the bathroom door behind her.

((Monday, April 21, 2008 evening - Played in IM))

There are times when Alain wants to share, and times he doesn't. Often he is fortunate enough to be able to share every time he wants to - but just as often, he can't say a word. He walks into the Forgotten Layers Inn shortly after dinner, pausing in the doorway to rub at the back of his neck... He breathes a sigh through his nostrils, and crosses towards the bar.

"Help yourself." Her voice came from across the room. She, still dressed as she had been that morning but without the heels, was laid out on her back in one of the couches provided in the sitting area that surrounded the large hearth for the main room. Her heels set on the floor beside the couch. Silas sat, thoughtfully on his hind legs with tail wrapping about his feline form, within a nearby armchair. His head turned towards the man while Izira was looking at the ceiling.

He turns to look at her, watching her silently for a long moment. There's a great deal he wants to say... but it is buried, locked away. She couldn't look him in the eye, he's sure, for sending a good-hearted man to a fate worse than death. "Can I get you anything, while I'm back there...?"

"No. Thanks." She sat up, reaching over an scratching the side of Silas' head. The feline seemed to enjoy the attention lavished upon him. She used this moment to try to tuck away the doubt she was feeling. "How went your day?"

"Well enough. Spent some time in RhyDin, after talking to the engineers here..." He fixes himself a glass of water and drags a chair over to sit by her. "How was yours?"

As Alain moved to join them Silas jumped from his spot in the armchair onto Izira's lap. Amazingly enough, no orange fur seemed to be escaping from the feline's coat. She continued to pet the cat as it settled to face Alain. "Uneventful. I've just been here." While her attention moved between the man and beast, Silas' attention was very steady on Alain.

"Monsieur Cat," he nods to Silas, and crosses his legs. Glass lifted for a sip. "Something's on your mind," he observes.

"I have had... concerns." She said, running a hand over Silas' head. "Silas has given me more to worry about." One last scratch, then she set the feline down on the ground. Silas turned his head towards her and was answered with a nod. One more glance spared from the cat, then he made his way off eventually heading up the stairs of the inn.

"What concerns?" he asks, eyes watching the cat briefly as he goes.

She settled back into the seat, legs crossing towards Alain though her torso leaned back into the couch. "I went to Red Dragon yesterday. Thinking to maybe spend time with you or Eva. I considered trying the Mark, but I didn't know how that would look to someone watching." Only the smallest of pauses before she moved on, "Eva eventually showed up, she was... in a poor spot. It seems a previous love that hadn't agreed with the idea of getting married had a change of heart some time while she was away for six years. He didn't tell her this. She found out when the woman showed up at the inn."

He rubs at his jaw. "Eva's a good woman... but you know this," he adds, shaking his head. "How's she doing now?"

"By now? I'm guess she might be getting over a very bad headache." Izira glanced away from Alain.

His lips thin. "...I haven't seen her around Tucker much, either."

"Nor have I." Running a hand into her hair, she propped her head up and looked to Alain again. She was quiet, watching him. Thinking of what to say next.

He watches her a moment, running his tongue along his teeth without clicking the tongue ring. "...You have a concern about us."

"Had a concern. Now I have concerns." A twist of her smile. Silas was good at helping Izira second guess things.

"Numerous concerns..." He itches his jaw, faint smile on his lips now - tricky cat that one is.

A short not, she looked towards the low fire. "When I was listening to Eva, I couldn't help but think of the situation I currently find myself. Only I am not the hurt ex-lover, I am another woman and far worse than this other Eva told me of. She wasn't aware of what she did and it had been years since Eva and this man had been together." If she had done this to Eva, well... Izira could not think well of herself.

He frowns. "...How could you be as bad as, or worse than this woman?"

"Because she is not over you... and I am completely aware of what I am doing."

He steeples his fingers. His tongue traces his teeth again... and he nods to himself, though he's reluctant to do so. "...You're not to blame. I initiated it. But..." He looks up at her. "Don't wait until I'm completely gone from her heart - such a thing never happens. It will still sting, no matter how long from now, no matter how little the pain is, when she finds another man... and the same can be said for her.? He paused briefly, then continued ?...But maybe we should... slow down, until she has gotten over me more." He looks up at her.

She let loose a soft bitter laugh and turned her head from him again.

"Izira..."

Slowly her eyes returned to him, "I have spent years of my life shut off and alone. Now? I find I am greedy and hate the idea of waiting still further." She shook her head softly. "I must admit. I cannot currently convince myself of a way for it to feel right in rushing. Perhaps I should just find someone available to throw myself at... but the idea of a stranger touching me." Her face lost some of its composure and nausea welled in her stomach as memories of strangers flooded her mind. She closed her eyes to force those thoughts away. Speaking again, her voice softer... weakened. "I find myself frustrated."

"Please wait for me," he asks simply, his own voice soft... and then adds, "You can say yes or no, and if you say yes, I hold you to no obligation... until you feel we're ready for each other."

She wanted to say no. She wanted to say no and be done with it. Waiting felt like purgatory, ever in limbo with a carpet ready to be pulled from under your feet. She loved him, though. She couldn't help that. And she knew if she said no, watching him hear it would be even worse for her. Izira took a slow breath. "What of you? Would you wait for me?" She thought of the Mercy woman at the inn, eager to get Alain off on another woman. And the lady in the belly dancer costume who wore it for him. And the woman who he told her of? Who had tried to kiss him and yet he had dodged it? Alain wasn't in such a position that the idea of a stranger turned him off far as Izira?s knowledge went.

"I'll kiss if I have to... and with the work I'm doing now for those wicked men, there's a possibility I actually might... but outside that, from this moment on, waiting on your call... I'll wait for you, Izira." His eyes fall to his water, then rise to hers again... and he shakes his head slowly as he says, "Things have gotten... so dark for me, now... but the thought of you gives me strength."

Hearing his words, that she gave him strength tied around her heart. But she did not miss those other words. I'll kiss if I have to. Silence lingered from her. The question remained at the tip of her tongue and eventually won out. "If you are required to do more?" It wasn't a soft question, it wasn't attentively curious. She might not know the ?exacts? of Alain's work, but she knew the capabilities of evil men. She was stone and she wanted the truth.

"...That's something that I'll have to address as it comes, should it come, though I don't think it shall... but if my life or the life of another depends on it..." He sighs softly. "Then I hope you'll forgive that sin, instead of my committing a worse one."

She gave a nod and stood, eyes taking in the interior of the inn if only to spend a moment looking elsewhere than him. Then her eyes returned to Alain once more. Silent, her decision teetering. He had room to say more if he wished.

"...You said something, as you went to sleep, the other night."

Her eyes did not register understanding. "... I said 'good night'..."

"You said that you loved me. You were falling asleep... but I felt the truth in it. And that's something I'm willing to wait for."

She had dreamed it, surely? No. Here he was bringing it up as solid evidence. She loved him. He was willing to wait for that. Willing to wait for love. Her mouth wasn't working at the moment, but her eyes looked back and forth into his.

"Love takes a while to grow in my heart... but I ache for you already, Izira. I know it's growing."

"It's growing." She repeated. Softly, she shook her head and looked towards him. "I cannot promise to wait for you, Alain. I do not want to cause trouble in your life with your many jobs and expectations from others and so I am not asking anything of you. Know you have my heart, now..."

His eyes hold hers... and then fall from them. "...I hope I still have it when we are both ready." He lifts his glass for a sip. "You know those jobs and expectations?" Ironic little smile to himself. "...Sometimes I wish they'd go away. Right about now is one of those times."

Izira didn't tell him if he would or not. She didn't know. But she corrected him by saying, "When you are ready." The only thing that held Izira back was that Alain was waiting to officially break things with another. That being with him could put her at risk was not something she worried about for her own sake, only his. People had hurt her before; she knew a lot about pain. She wasn't as weak and helpless as she once was. Izira was ready now, but there was no saying if she would still be so when Alain finally was.

"I'll talk to Cassie," he says, cradling his right hand. He begins to massage his right palm, not nervously but slowly, but his thumb pauses in its course. "...Hopefully, when our break becomes permanent... her heart will begin to move on."

Izira watched him massage his palm, a light frown. She broke from her standing tall and resolved position to kneel beside him, moving to take his hand in her own. Her attention would fall there to the palm, slowly massaging it herself. There were no words to say to him in return on that matter.

He sighs, and she can feel it - he's frustrated about what they've been discussing, certainly... but he's had to make a hard decision today. A great evil for a greater good. He moves a hand to her shoulder and neck, to move her to lean on him.

She accepted the gesture, settled more against him and the chair than before. Feeling that weight that he carried at the touch. "Do no let it drag you down, Alain." The words were soft, understanding. Izira would be dead right now had she let the darkness of the world take her in full.

"...I can stay afloat," he nods... his arm around her, holding her head gently to his chest.

"Good." Eyes closed, she listened to his breathing and the beating of his heart. Taking in the faint smell of him which still lingers with the light smoke from his cigar.

((Saturday April 26, 2008 Midnight - Played in IM))

((The following post contains adult content.))

Alain enters through the front door of Forgotten Layers, at once finding a good place to put out his cigarette. He runs his fingers through his hair and looks around.

Izira is not in site, but soon the cat is. Silas, having been behind the bar, now jumps and rests upon it. Green eyes bright in the low light of the inn.

"Bonsoir, Monsieur Cat." He sighs, taking another look around. "Have you seen your mistress?"

~I have. ~ The cat sounded smug about it. ~Have you? ~

He doesn't say anything else to the cat, even resisting rolling his eyes. He just begins to search, starting with the kitchen.

The cat followed, ~You ask the wrong questions, boy. A pity for your line of work. Too deep in your games? Directness is a better virtue. ~

He pauses, and then looks over his shoulder. "Where's Izira?"

He sat down on his haunches. ~Out back in the garden. ~

"Thank you," he says, rubbing the top of his head briefly and moving on, out into the garden.

Izira was indeed in the garden, at a distance. She could have been missed but for the light the fire before her was casting, causing shadows to sway and move. From far away it was hard to tell what was going on. She was in a small circular clearing, sitting in the dry grass in the same clothing she wore earlier that day. A black top with a wide v-neck collar that sat her shoulders and gave a more delicate view of her collar bone was paired with a gray skirt that ended just below her knees and open-toe black heels. Upon approaching Izira, it would reveal she created small beings of fire that danced and played with one another in midair and around her hands like tiny fire nymphs.

He approaches carefully, and while there's still some distance, says to her, "Good evening." Bright blue eyes follow the creatures...

They were not real beyond Izira's imagination for them. When she looked up and saw Alain, they vanished from view in a quick flicker of dying flame. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the new dark, and during that time she remained silent. Soon the light of the moon and stars replaced the glow from the dancing fire beings of before. "Has it been good?" She asked, curious and wanting to know. Her tone more of concern than judgment.

"As horrible as any other." He seeks to banish the darker thoughts from his mind, and offers his hand to her. "I know I have to... but still, I am sorry for treating you so coolly in public."

She took his hand, standing up and moving near him. Looking away, seconds of silence passed before she responded. "I should apologize to you. I am treating you coolly no matter where we are." Her eyes moved towards his, in them showed her sorrow and shame of it. It was hard for her to ignore that it hurt her, but she wanted to understand. Knew it wasn't his doing.

"I forgive you," he says. He doesn't say that she hasn't been doing it, since she has, but his words are not cool. His expression warms, and he moves closer to her, to encircle her with his arms and embrace her. "I know it can't be easy for you... it wouldn't be easy on anybody." He looks down at her. "Know that you, and you alone, Izira, have my heart."

She nodded softly, eyes lowered away him. Then looked up to him again, voice soft as she confided in him. "I fear for the rest of you, Alain. I can only imagine what this does to you, I am afraid it will turn you. Kill your heart from the inside out. I worry the game you play will get the better of you and I will be at a distance unable to help."

"...I will not turn to evil, there is no fear of that even in my own heart... My greatest fear now, simply, is that I will not live." He worries his lip. "...I have to admit, Izira... I do not expect to live to see the turning of the leaves in the fall. If I can live through this, no matter how small a piece of my heart I am left with, it will still be a miracle. Because I can still share that heart."

Hands upon his chest, they clutched him ever so tightly at the mention of his mortality. Voice caught in her thought, unsure of what pretty words she could say to chase that dark fear away. Tears faintly touched into her eyes. "Please tell me there is something I can do to keep that from happening. Anything, Alain, anything at all. I have lived through worse, I know I have. I do not want to lose you."

"If you can give your heart to me and keep the wall away... please do. Every hope I have, everything I have to look forward to... it all helps." His head lowers to kiss her temple and her cheek. "When it gets bad, I think about Esperance... I think about Jean... I think about this place... and I think about you, Izira. And it helps."

"It is hard, Alain, when I have to keep myself a distance from you in front of others." Truly it tortured her. He couldn't know the depth of the cruelty behind it, the games she had suffered being led to believe a lie. She was a logical woman, but it was hard for her mind to control those dark corners all the time. Sometimes she slipped, sometimes she lost faith. She pressed her cheek against his, closing her eyes. He was solid, he was there, and this was reality. Not the games they played.

"I know, Izira... I'm sorry." He hugs her tighter, holding her close to his chest, thick arms folded over her back.

"Do not apologize... it is what you must do." Lips landing with care against his cheek. Her arms moved up around his shoulders. She added, "I will sacrifice anything of myself I am able to help you in this."

"Just be there for me," is all he asks of her. He breathes a slow sigh, and at last the embrace loosens somewhat, hands resting on the crooks of her arms.

She gave a short nod. "Okay." A soft, warmed smile following.

He murmurs 'thank you' and kisses her, a sweet, gentle kiss, one hand moving to the back of her neck.

She returned the kiss in kind. Breaking away and looking into his eyes, her mood lighter.

He smiles at her, his storm clouds slipping away, and he presses his hands to hers between them, looking at them, then at her. "What were you doing with the fire earlier?"

"Entertaining myself." Her smile was almost shy at that.

"Will you show me?" He finds her shyness endearing - it shows in the widening of his own smile.

"Yes." She eased from his arms, as playing with fire near others was not the best of ideas. Palms facing towards the sky, they were held apart from one another. In her right hand the form of a girl appeared, noticeable by the shape of a flowing dress and long tresses of hair. In the other, a boy. The two tiny fire beings waved to one another, the girl tossing a small flower to the boy that he caught.

He finds a place to lean where he can watch, letting his worries slip away as he watches the elemental show.

Then with flower in hand, the boy took a leaping jump to the other hand just catching the edge of Izira's palm. With help from the girl, the boy found his footing and standing up returned the flower to the girl who shyly accepted. Rewarding the boy with a kiss to his cheek before the two vanished in a curl of flames together. "The end."

He folds his arms, lifting his chin to her. "If I bring you a flower, do I get the same?"

"It depends, are you stealing it from my garden?" Her smirk breaking into a wider, playful smile.

"It'd be pretty hard to lie to you, I suppose..." He drifts closer to her again, smiling. "What would I get for a dozen roses?"

"A dozen pecks to the cheek?" She offered in response with a soft chuckle.

"Tempting, to be sure." His hands return to her sides, and he takes another kiss from her.

Kiss returned. She remained close to him. "Or maybe I could borrow the lady's belly dancer costume and give you a show." Voice teasing.

"Ah... What color roses, then?" he asks just as teasingly, and kisses her a couple times more.

"You doubt my abilities at dancing? Or is it that you do not think she will share?" Smiling widely, "I like them in blue."

"Oh no, I already know you're a terrific dancer," he says, giving her lower lip a simple tug, and then backing off. Hey, it's springtime, so sue him. "The thought of you as a belly dancer..." That certainly makes him smile. "Well - can you?"

It was considered, before she responded. "It remains to be seen."

"Tease," he grins, and lowers his hands to her hands again. "I can't stay but another hour or two - I have a meeting before sunrise."

Entwining her fingers with his, she started back towards the inn. "Meetings in the dark..." She smile faintly, recalling some she read but the memory was not wholly clear.

"All a part of the game," he says with a faint sigh, though not a very sad or stressed one, returning to the inn with her.

Entering through the door that led to her study, she glanced over her shoulder as she moved towards her room.

He stays hand in hand with her, and looks between her and her bedroom door in silent question. Desire - it is communicated in his thoughts through their touch.

"You said you had an hour or two..." The side of her lips curve playfully as she backs into the room and pulls him in after.

He chuckles as he's pulled in after her, and moves at once into her arms to kiss her.

As before, in the kitchen, it started slow and undemanding. She eased him down to the bed with care, standing before him and undressing herself unhurriedly. The delicate smile she wore, watching his eyes upon her flesh, said she was ready for this. She moved into his arms, exchanging lingering kisses as their hands explored the other's body. That they could feel one another through the bond heightened the experience. As Alain laid her down upon her back, moving over her form, she found herself gazing deeply into his eyes. There was no need to say the words. They both felt the love the other felt in that intimate embrace...

Alain is curled around Izira's naked form in the quiet of the night. Hands slowly, gently exploring the curves of her body. Feeling the heat of her skin in the aftermath of their love making. He kisses at her neck, tasting her sweat on her skin. He kisses at her neck, tasting the sweat of her skin.

Stealing his lips for another kiss before pulling away. Fingertips gently ran through his hair. "Don't forget your meeting, Love."

He smiles at her in the darkness and begins to move towards the edge of the bed. "I haven't forgotten... wish I had," he mutters, one hand skimming over her thigh as he kisses below her navel, and straightens to get dressed.

She pulled a blanket up about her form as he started to dress. A flow of fire sent to the light near her bed, a dim light cast against his form. Izira settled on her side as she watched him casually put his clothes on again.

He smiles over his shoulder, sensing her watching after a bit - yeah, he looks a bit smug - and then finishes dressing. He leans over to kiss her forehead, then her lips, murmuring, I love you.

She returned his words softly, adding, "Be safe tonight, Alain."

"I will." She can feel the thought from him, the impulse - to crawl right back into bed with her. Instead he sates himself kissing her throat, then her lips once more... Revolvers secured in their holsters, he at last leaves the room.

The light dimming behind him until it is dark again. Izira curled up amongst the blankets that carries the lingering scents of their bodies, settling in to sleep for the rest of the night.

Silas sat waiting on the bar.

He enters the common room, pausing to light a cigarette for himself. When he spots Silas, he nods to him, greeting him as usual: "Monsieur Cat."

~Boy~ The cat's tail flick over the surface of the bar, green eyes intent upon him.

He keeps on crossing the room, though he does say, "Is there something you wanted to discuss?"

~When I want to talk, we will. ~ The feline assured him.

"Enjoy your evening," Alain says then, and departs.

The cat merely watched him go with narrowed eyes.

((Thursda May 1, 2008 - Night Continued))

((The following post contains some adult language.))

It's late, though not very. Close to midnight, and Alain makes his way into Izira's rooms, bouquet of blue roses and other smaller blue and white flowers in hand. He pauses and breathes a slow sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck. This is going to take a lot of explaining...

She appeared to be already in a mood for listening. Out in the sitting area of her personal study, she was placed comfortably in one of the couches that offered a view of the door that led to the hall. Having changed out of the dress from earlier, she wore a casual black silk pajama set of pants tied together at her hip and a button up top. Hair let down but brushed away from her face. Amber-browns studied the door as she felt Alain's arrival. What she had been doing before then wasn't apparent, unless she'd been watching the door the whole time.

"Hey," he says to Izira, once he spots her. He smiles faintly... but there's a lot on his mind, and feels there's a lot on hers, too. He moves to sit by her side, offering her the flowers with a gentle, "We should talk - there's a great deal I have to explain."

She took the flowers. They were beautiful but not much for a distraction from her current thoughts. She stood, moving over towards a cabinet. Bare feet padded near silently as she moved. A vase taken out and the flowers placed on a table before a long window. "There's a great deal I want you to explain, Alain. It is good we are of equal minds in this." A delicate touch to the flowers as she organized them.

"...I'll start with... God, I barely know where to begin..." He considers, bowing his head not in shame but honestly in thought. "...I work for the Bloods. They're a... loosely political group, based largely in the West End, and they're enemies with the law firm of Dewey, Cheatham and Howe." Lips twitch towards a smile. "Ridiculous as the name is, they're truly evil men. Demons, actually, who ally themselves with murderers and others to see to their own ends - they dupe people into blood contracts so they can own their souls. The Bloods set me up to infiltrate them... and that's why they changed my psyche." He looks up at her. "Greed, lust, and a hunger for power. That's what psions see when they read the surface of my thoughts, because it's what DCH needs to see in order to trust me... in order to believe that they can use me, and I'm not doing this for some nobler purpose." He purses his lips. "Our bond, I think it sort of bypasses this barrier - so you don't get to see those decoy emotions."

She had been listening, still standing near the flowers. His words were taken in and digested as she moved back to the couch. The arm chair was selected to settle in, instead. Legs crossed. Eyes him, her expression was thoughtful. "Is the decoy affecting you in any way?"

"When my thoughts grow still and nothing occupies me, which is thankfully rare... they torment and tempt me like an inner demon." He shakes his head. "But I have not given into them. ...They grow stronger when I'm near those demons, though. Mister Howe likes to talk at great length, the meetings are torture, really," followed by a humorless chuckle. He clears his throat slightly. "DCH believes I keep a cadre of women, that my sexual pursuits are my top priority, and that I need the money they give me to keep those women happy." He looks at her again. "Best I can tell, the purpose of that is two-fold - it may lead them to believe there's no one I care about, and also to believe they can easily control and manipulate me."

"The reason you might have to be with others, then? To satisfy this view of you this Mr. Howe and his demons have? That is why you could not promise nothing would happen between you and another." Her frown was only through trying to understand.

He nods. "However, I'm trying to very carefully gather around me women who know my intent, who know I'm deep undercover, to make sure I'll never have to truly go beyond a little PDA." He sighs softly. "Because I don't want to hurt any of these women... and I don't want to hurt you, Izira."

A slow nod that she understood his idea, though she turned away and looked to the side in asking, "How many women do you have thus far?"

"Only two. Belial... and more recently, Serena." His lips thin. "In public, Serena's agreed to be my casual girlfriend... but I'm paying the price for it." He rubs his forehead. "In private, she makes me look at catalogues. Clothing catalogues, Izira. ?To properly spend the DCH money on her." Apparently he's not terribly happy with this arrangement

That brought her attention back to him. There was a warning in her eyes.

He puts his hands up. "I'm very sorry about this, Izira. It's not out of any feeling for her - there's none. She volunteered and fit the bill because... well, it's sort of complicated, but her soul is already owned by another being... so there's no risk of DCH laying claim to it."

She shook her head. Standing, she almost raised her voice... almost let emotion take over. The moment she reigned herself in and forced calm was noticeable. When she spoke, her voice was the same calm. "Never mind that I am only just now getting the details of your work when it seems others already had it. I will blame myself for that? for not asking you tell me in full sooner." A short pause, then she continued. "I do not like this casual girlfriend answer. Even if it fits some bill. You said yourself these men expect you to have a horde of women not a girlfriend. That her soul might not be at risk might suite you and her... does that protection extend to her body as well?" Again she shook her head. "A girlfriend and a casual closeness to this, Belial? You put your trust in others and kept me at a distance for comfort's sake."

"I kept you at a distance to keep you safe," he protests, frowning. "And she says her protection leaves her completely safe." He rubs at his forehead. "She can be a girlfriend, a lover, a f**k-buddy, it really makes no difference, I'd treat her the same in public... and honestly I'm falling behind on this 'cadre' thing. I know Mister Howe's gotten suspicious because he sent one of his employees after me to spy on me. It's not a matter of not trusting you, Izira - I do trust you - these are just women I trust to do their job well lest Mister Howe have any more reason to think something's up and start looking for someone I might actually care about." On the word 'care,' his eyes move directly to her. "I trust you completely, Izira. I just don't want you getting hurt."

"I don't want to be at a distance anymore, Alain. Being in the dark in this... it's not good for me." Her eyes that had been on him look away again, but it does not appear that she is looking away from him... but towards something in the distance that only she can see. A part of her wondered when Silas would return. Then she looked back to Alain. "I want to be in your horde."

He lets out an immense sigh, placing his head in his hands. Just like Serena, Izira's made her case, and she's right - but this is a woman he loves. "If they catch me, and they figure you out... they'll try to use you against me..." He shakes his head. "I don't want them hurting you, especially not on my account." But there's a resignation in his tone. He knows she's won.

She stood up moving to him, a comforting hand held against his jaw. Her eyes gazed into his. Through the bond and those amber-browns she expressed her awareness of his concern. Her appreciation for it, as well. He was right, however, she was determined. Lips were placed against his softly. If he's caught? If they came to her? If she was hurt? She would not worry about those fears of his unless they happened.

His arms encircle her slowly, lingering in the kiss, breaking it to say to her, "Promise me you will be careful, and act very carefully and precisely. The way we've been together here at your inn, the way we are right now... we can't be that way at the Red Dragon Inn. I love you, Izira... but we can betray no sign of it to these demons." One hand rises to stroke her cheek and trace the gentle curves of her face.

"I promise, Alain." Watching his eyes, feeling that soft touch against her cheek. "I will be just one of the many women to grace your bed." Silent as she considered a thought and then continued, "Am I allowed to meet your others?"

"If you would like to," he nods softly. "Though I have told none of them, not even the Bloods who put me into this position in the first place, what you truly mean to me."

"You do not need to tell them now. But I would like to meet them, yes." Then giving the faintest of a smile. "Thank you for telling me, Alain. I needed to know what was going on."

He brings her to sit in his lap, his hands covering hers, and he kisses her temple. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Leaning into him, she closed her eyes. Comfort taken. Then, eyes opened and glanced towards him. "Would it help if I made myself seen with someone else?"

He thinks... there is a twinge of jealousy, but after it is set aside, he shakes his head faintly. "I honestly think it would make no difference... They need only to see that I'm juggling women."

She was relieved. If it had been needed, it could be accomplished even if it wasn't something she really wanted to need to do. "Okay." Leaning to him and giving him a soft kiss.

He returns her kiss, hand drifting to scratch her back lightly. After some moments of silence, a grin begins to form. "Out of pure academic curiosity, did Tara give you a costume??

"She did. I might wear it to Beltane Saturday and dance with her. If she can be convinced." Taking his free hand in hers and entwining their fingers. "I think Lord Whimsy, if he is there, would assist in convincing. Will you be there?"

"On Saturday, I'll try to be there." He smiles, raising their hands to kiss her fingers, one by one. "Who's this Lord Whimsy?" Curiosity driven by the strangeness of his name.

"A friend of Tara's." She smiled at the kisses. Though, recalling the man's flattery, she continued, "He attempted to gain my company to the event. I told him I did not know that I would be making it there."

"Then maybe it can be arranged for me to pick you up at the Beltane dance..." His smile turns a bit more mischievous, his hand straying to stroke along her stomach. "...And give me another dance in private."

A soft chuckle, she leaned her forehead to his. A quick kiss, "For free? Now that I hear you are buying girls gifts?" Smiling to him wildly. There wasn't anything more that she needed than she had right at that moment...

((Wednesday May 7, 2008 - Late Afternoon/Early Evening))

Locke had received the notice that Izira wanted him to drop by the Forgotten Layers Inn as soon as he had returned to his room at the Red Dragon Inn, following his vacation in Port Leicester to visit his family. As soon as his luggage was unpacked, and he had put on suitable clothing for the journey, he set out for the realm. He wore a light blue dress shirt with white vertical stripes, a black tie with white patterned dots, black dress pants with equally dark patent leather dress shoes and belt. Messenger bag slung over his shoulder, he held the map in both hands as he started to walk out of the city and into the wilderness outside the city. He couldn't see the shifts in worlds, but the map clearly assured him there was a byzantine path between realms that was present, if he only kept following the directions correctly. After a hefty amount of walking, he was where he was supposed to be. The Forgotten Layers Inn. His feet crunched on the gravel path as he headed towards the porch. Before knocking on the door, he took a moment to examine his settings. Hmm...An ebony leather gloved hand rapped a rhythm on the wood. "Shave and a hair cut..."

It was unusual for someone to knock, the place being an inn and all. The musical intoned rap brought Izira from her thoughts and eyes moving towards the door. It had been a while since she had seen anyone, days. No Alain, no Eva... more so, no Silas. It wouldn't be any of them behind that door, none of them had ever made of habit of knocking. She pushed off the stool behind the bar, the click of her heels following as she made for the front door. As was to be expected by now, the lady was dressed to impress. One could wonder who it was she was dressed to impress as she had only expected the day to pass by herself. Hair pulled back in a smart French twist, a silver comb for a touch and to keep everything in place. Her dress was black, the top fitted satin with inch thick straps. The skirt and a simple belt of a different fabric but same color as also shaped to her form. Black, closed-toed heels matched to the outfit. She opened the door. It wasn't cautiously done, either. Many years in the realm without threat gave her no reason to be so. A polite smile formed, it turned into a true smile as Locke was revealed to be her visitor. "Locke! A pleasure to see you, please come in." Stepping out of the way so that he could do so. "I hope the walk wasn't too difficult."

"No worries, mate. I needed a spot of exercise after the last few lazy days I had on holiday." Locke stepped inside, sweeping his gaze across the room he had entered. To him, it seemed rather...mundane. The usual array of tables, chairs, booths, bar, and fireplace were not unexpected. The stage was a small surprise, though, as was the silver cage hanging from the ceiling. After examining the layout, Locke tried to see if there was anybody else there quickly, before turning his eyes back on Izira. "It is excellent to see you as well, Izira. You are faring well, I hope?"

Locke should be sure not to overlook the many books and random trinkets collected from various realms and worlds. The birds would have been an interesting sight, but they were off on a hunt. Izira's response to Locke was evasive. How she was had been changing with her mood and thoughts the last several days and it had become a slow irritation that her confidant had not returned yet to his feline form. "I fare, more or less. I suspect you are well, having the energy for travel after returning home." The door was released behind them and she stepped further into the room with a gesture towards the bar. "Need anything? A drink or food?" They were indeed the only two about, but still there was always something ready for serving. The place had a magic about it in that regard... and others.

"Ice water, perhaps? I am supposed to tend bar this evening, so I suppose I shouldn't tipple too much." The books and trinkets were noted after a little while, but none seemed to immediately catch his eye. "I am well physically and confused mentally, to be perfectly honest with you. I probably would have gone to the duels, had I not received your letter first. Nothing cleanses the soul, mate, like having the bloody hell punched out of you." He chuckled a bit at his comment, though he fully expected Izira not to appreciate it. His love for the duels, while not masochistic, definitely bordered on self-destructive at times, and he wasn't quite sure she'd appreciate that.

A nod to his drink request, she turned and made for the bar followed by the click of her heels. It was a gentle sound, not the stomping of someone unused to wearing heels. She moved with easy grace, taking a glass down, filling it with crushed ice and then clear, fresh water. Sparkling glass placed on the bar top between them. A soft chuckle at his words, "I could always knock you around for a few." Smiling up to him before looking away and towards the inn at large. Truly she probably couldn't get into hitting Locke, but there was something inside of her that wanted release. Casual smile back to Locke, hoping she didn't put him off with her response.

He leaned up against the bar top casually, taking the glass of water in hand and sipping it. "Thank you most kindly mate." The comment on fighting him, however, led Locke to arch an ice-white eyebrow at Izira. "You want to ruck with me? I usually don't strike ladies unless they strike first, or unless we are both inside one of the dueling rings. And I remember what the GangSTAR said, the last time I showed up all bruised and battered for my shift...I would hate to see what he would write this time." Talk of Marc Franco instinctively led him to straighten up his posture. He loved the attention of the pink-haired gossip-monger.

"No need," In remark to his changing posture. "The gossip man has no eyes here." A quirk of a smile, she gave her head a light shake and moved away from the bar to take down a crystal flute. Turning it in hand to reflect the light as she spoke, "Far as fighting goes... it was more a jest than anything. I feel a need for... something, but I cannot find the energy to direct to it." A soft sigh. "Honestly I have been feeling a little lost of late myself." The flute was placed on the bar, she moved to fetch a black bottle that was kept within a locked cabinet all by itself. Red wax topped and sealed it.

Locke took a seat at the bar, his irises tracking Izira as she moved to get a glass and then a bottle of...liquor, he presumed? "Indeed. I tend to approach my problems like a bull in a china shop, savvy? No quarter, no mercy, no prisoners. So when a problem comes along that is...complicated, and requires some tact, I am often at a bloody loss. And then I tend to take out my frustrations in less...socially acceptable ways." He paused briefly, before canting his head in her direction. "Lost. How so?"

"I feel like there is something I need to do, but I do not for the life of me know what it is." Her smile was near apologetic for the vagueness. She preferred to think she had her head about herself and was ready for anything. Well, in a way she was ready... she just didn't know what for. The bottle in hand, heat came from her to melt the wax seal. Pouring a portion into the flute, the liquid came out red and roiling like living lava. It smelled of hot cinnamon and spice with a cloying sweetness at the edge of it. "It's good you came, Locke. I was afraid we would have time to try making the dragons."

Locke's nose daintily sniffed at the air as Izira poured her beverage, but he made no note of it otherwise, nor did he attempt to press her further on her first statement. Before responding to the latter comment, he drank some more water, and then set the glass on the table. "It is good to be in a place where things aren't so bloody tense all the time. I am looking forward to attempting to make those dragons. Did I tell you I tried to do...whatever elemental control it was that you did when you touched my hands?"

That caught her interest. As the wax crawled up and resealed the bottle, she smiled with positive support. "Did you have much success? I have to admit, I haven't had much experience with other elemental beings." Turning, the bottle was tucked away safely once more. Izira reclaimed the seat behind the bar with her glass in hand, the liquid it in still in movement. A short sip taken, her eyes closed with enjoyment at the taste. It had been a few months since she had partaken of it. When her eyes opened there was a quick flicker of flames in those amber-brown irises.

He looked a bit sheepish, lowering his head a touch as he replied. "Yes and no. I decided to turn on the burners on one of the gas stoves in the kitchen of the Inn. Took my gloves off and...Converted the flames into something chillier. It worked for a little while, and then I got distracted. Burnt the flesh on my hands, right before the Panther's Claw tournament. Pretty much shot myself in the foot there." He twisted the corner of his lip up into something resembling a rueful gesture, before taking another sip of water. A glance over detected the shift in Izira's eye colors, but he was still being somewhat tactful at that point.

She grinned wider, a bit more relaxed already from her earlier worries. "You need to be more careful with yourself. It is good it was only a hand and a quick burn you suffered." The glass was set down, eased away from her a touch. Her attention moving towards his hands curiously and with concern, "Are you healed now?" She couldn't really heal anyone else, but she could care about it in general. Watching his hands to be sure, as some folks like to play down that which pains them.

With the leather gloves on, it was nearly impossible to tell if he had any bandages on underneath. Probably not, but one could never tell... He shrugged his shoulders. "I am faring far better now than I was before. I have suffered far worse injuries and lived to tell the tale." He glanced toward the front door, then back at Izira. "Were you ready to work on those dragons now or would you prefer to finish your beverage first?"

A nod at his assessment. She couldn't see through his gloves, she'd have to trust his words on it. Waving towards the flute, "It will keep." She slid off the stool once more and onto her feet. "Outside would probably work best, at the fountain so you may have a source of water." There were little ponds in the back, but they had fish and little frogs at times living in them... she didn't know if the ice would be problematic to them.

He hopped to his feet, leaving his half-finished glass of ice water behind. He headed for the front door, opened it, and held it for her, sweeping his other hand in an exaggerated fashion toward the opening. Still, there was nothing but sincerity in his voice when he spoke. "After you."

"You have my thanks, Sir Locke." A twist to her smile in amusement, she went down towards the fountain and perched upon the ledge of the stone wall. Legs crossed and fingertips dipping into the surface of the water. "Will you want to see what you can create? I would bet you didn't practice creation on your little vacation..."

Locke followed behind her as she approached the fountain. With two quick, effortless tugs, he removed each of his gloves, putting them in his back pocket. He crouched near the ledge, rolled up his sleeves to reveal pale blue forearms, cupped his hands together and dipped them into the water. His eyes shut for a second, as he deftly worked to transfer the water into one hand, then to shape the water into a ball of ice. When his eyelids finally fluttered back open, he saw what he had created, and smiled. The sphere was slightly lopsided, but it was smooth and slick and frozen. He tossed it lightly in his light hand, grinning all the while. "I haven't practiced too much mate, but I have practiced enough that I feel that the lessons I was previously taught are starting to sink in a touch more."

"Then I am pleased our time was not wasted." Eyeing the semi-lopsided orb of ice, an idea coming to her head. "Do you think dragons would be too much as of yet? The party if set for Saturday and I do not know if we will have enough time." Lifting a hand and pointing at the orb, "But this current trick of yours gives me an idea."

He tossed the ice ball back into the water, letting the spring heat melt it back to water. He canted his head curiously at Izira. "I'm all ears. Well, you know what I mean." A quick point at the pointed blue tips, then an impish grin.

Holding her hands up in demonstration, "We could make lanterns. But of ice-shaped orbs with fire visuals within them to light the party." It might have been amusing to watch her hand display her thought as though words themselves would fall short. He looked up at him to gauge a reaction.

If it was possible, his smile brightened there. He wasn't offended at all in the slightest by any implication that his talents might not be up for the task of making dragons. "Sounds aces to me, mate. Tell me what to do, and I will certainly do it."

"It would be best to work together, if you don't mind?" Reaching out her hands to him... she paused, "Do you think we should get in the water?" Giving it a look, she considered that they could dip their hands it... but it might be a bad angle for either of them to sit at.

He didn't bother to respond to her comment. He cuffed his dress pants first, before slipping off his right shoe, then the black sock on it, revealing a bare blue foot. He dipped his right big toe in the water, and then stepped in fully. That done, he finally removed his left shoe and sock and immersed both feet in the liquid. Seemingly forgetting about his chill touch for a moment, he extended his left hand toward Izira, a touch of a smirk on his face. "Come on in, the water's fine."

She smiled and laughed shortly. "Does your presence make it colder though?" Quickly taking off her heels, the dress was at her knees and at no risk unless she purposely went swimming. Taking his hand and stepping into the fountain with bare feet, a few droplets from the falling water landing near them. Her smile went even wider once she was standing in the fountain. "I feel like a youngling."

Indeed, the water was a bit chillier than it might have been, had Locke not been standing in it, but he was doing his best through subtle magics not to freeze the water as he touched it with his feet. He glanced down at Izira's hand as she took it, withdrawing before his cold touch could hurt her (though whether or not it did was another matter entirely). "Aye. It is good to have fun like this, innit? Do you ever feel like your life is too complicated, mate?"

"Near always as of late." It didn't seem the cold touch ever bothered her, as though her body was already familiar to the frozen sensation held in his hands. Her freed hand brushed through her hair, she canted her head and gave him a thoughtful look. "Have you noticed that our meetings tend to turn into deep conversation? I think this is entirely your doing." A smile taking any hardness that could have been wrongly heard in her words.

He pouted a bit, kicking a little bit of water up in the opposite direction of Izira. "I know! Things are complicated, though, mate. I suppose life always is? I fear that I gave you the wrong impression of who I am. Or maybe it is the right impression, and the impression I give others is wrong?" He shook his head, as if clearing out the cobwebs. "Never mind that, though. Let's have fun." With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he crouched, dipping his hand into the water. It certainly looked like he was about to splash her...

She quickly moved away incase there was a splash incoming, using hands to cover herself. "No fair! You speak in near riddles and then just jump on. You're a worse tease than half the population of that sin city." A smirk, a gesture towards the way that would perhaps lead towards RhyDin.

He decided to splash in her direction anyway, giggling a bit as he did so, then trying to rush away from where he expected the imminent wave of water to come from. "I would like to think that, compared to most of the blokes and birds residing in our fair city of RhyDin, that I am more open about myself than most. How do I talk in riddles? Cards on the table, mate. Ask me any question, any question, and I guarantee you that I will answer it honestly." A quick pause, as he muttered to himself, half-smiling and shaking his head. "A bloody tease...bollocks, mate."

Chuckled, she tilted her head again and regarded him before nodding. "Alright, firstly then, what is the wrong impression you think you have given me?" She bit the side of her lower lip, and while it might have looked like she was curious - she was actually concentrating. Water splashing at Locke from behind him, she laughed and ducked away to the other side of the fountain, the statue between them.

He stumbled out of the way of the spray from Izira, laughing out loud as well. He tried to peer around the statue, to see if he could spot her, but failing to (or not trying very hard), he addressed his words to where he thought she might be. "I fear that you think I am a boring person. Far too serious. Mr. Gloom and Doom. I would like to think that I am a happy-go-lucky person, full of joie de vivre, vim and vigor. Truly, my life is not so bad, but I fear that in focusing on all that...bloody negativity, I made you think otherwise." He scratched his chin, and then sounded slightly annoyed. "Wait a minute! You made me do it again!" He started to rush toward the fountain, feinting which direction he would go around it from. He chose the right, crying out. "Rascal!"

She had gone left and hence lined herself up by the fake out to be caught or ran into or dunked into the water. "I did no such thing! You told me to ask and I asked! You did not specify I was only allowed to ask you jolly questions that would only have jolly answers." Upon spotting him she would try to turn around to escape, "I don't see how that makes me a rascal!" Said through her laugh.

Locke leaned down quickly and splashed, though he made no move to follow her as she circled around the statue on the left side. "You said it was my doing that we always have these deep conversations when we meet, and yet, you ask a question that requires a deep, thoughtful answer of me! I demand a silly question!" He stopped in place, folding his arms across his chest, pouting at her with his lower lip jutting out.

Pausing at a distance that kept him in view, she considered the request and tried to think of something silly to ask as was demanded. Finger to lip, she struck a good 'in thought' pose. Though it was truly taking her some time to think of something truly 'silly' to ask. Perhaps not silly? But something unimportant? Trivial. "How would you go about making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?"

He almost instantly answered the question, though the way he read it made it sound like it was something he had memorized from a book. "Two slices of bread, a knife, a jar of marmalade, and a jar of peanut butter. Spread one side with peanut butter, the other with marmalade. Put the two sides together. Cut diagonally. Serve."

"I don't know that I will accept that as a proper answer." Smiling as shaking her head. "While detailed, it is not at all how I make mine." Sliding back, feet still in the fountain, she once again perched on the edge of the wall. Legs crossing at the ankles, it was almost like she wasn't sitting in water outside and being goofy for once.

"Is that so? How do you-" He jabbed a finger in her direction, as he leaned his other arm against the statue - "make your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, mate?"

"Two slices of bread, a knife, a jar of strawberry jam, and a jar of peanut better. Spread both sides with a thin layer of peanut butter-so as to protect the jelly from bleeding through-and jelly in the middle. Cut diagonally and serve." Saying it in a tone such as the one he had used to begin with. When finished a brow was raised to see if he would challenge her method.

Locke waved a dismissive blue hand her way. "I am not even a fan of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches anyways, mate." He was pouting a bit, folding his arms once more. Perhaps she was right, or perhaps she'd struck a nerve?

"I am not such a connoisseur myself." Her smile almost apologetic again. After that she watched him quietly.

Being watched brought out the performer in Locke. Or was it that he couldn't sit still for one moment, or stand the silence? Either way, he made sure his dress shirt sleeves were still rolled up, and then flipped into a handstand. Not used to doing it with the slick, watery stone surface, he was only able to hold it for a few seconds before went tumbling back first into the fountain with a pronounced *splash*. Stunned, he laid there in the water, as his wet clothes froze quickly to his flesh. He lifted his hands up to flick the ice off his face, sputtering a bit.

Amusement at his trick, she moved as he fell into the water towards him. Seeing the frozen clothing, her expression was almost puzzled as she moved to help him up. Knees into the water, not caring for her dress at the moment. Leaning over him, "Okay?"

The water around him was slowly but surely starting to freeze, though at that moment, it was more akin to slush than anything else. He glanced up at her, once spiky hair now plastered and frozen to his head. He shot a thumbs-up to her. "I'm aces, mate."

"Aces. Course." Hands into the slush she pulled/guided him into a sitting position. Warmth from her affecting the water and his clothing, but not his skin. She was careful, mindful of his body. As she helped him out, however, a question popped into her mind and given the free nature of their exchange she couldn't help but ask, "How do you manage a shower?"

"I don't, normally. I usually take baths. And fill the bath tub up with ice cubes. Anything warmer than around...say, 5 or 6 degrees Celsius or so becomes painfully uncomfortable for me." Pulled up into a seated position, he didn't have time to marvel at the way her touch had stayed cold on his fingertips but dried out his shirt.

Kneeling in the water before him. "Curious." And it was, she pondered it. Right until she realized the nature of the thing she was pondering and managed not to color too much. "Do you... make your own ice?" If he bathed in ice and drank iced water, he must go through a lot of it. She undid the clasp in her hair and tossed it outside of the fountain, shaking her hair out. As she looked towards the statue.

He stood up, slacks still soaked from the fountain. "Bollocks. I can't imagine this can be good for the fabric of my trousers. And I have to tend tonight as well... Pardon?" He stopped briefly, to try and remember her question. "Do I make my own ice? Yes, I do. Though I also have them send ice up to me in my room sometimes."

"A perk for working for them... all the ice you need." Standing up as well, she gestured towards his pants. "If you swear you're not going swimming anymore I can dry them for you as well."

He waded through the fountain until he was at the edge, standing on the ledge with bare feet. A slight wince, as he touched the warmer surface. "If you are going to dry out my slacks, I ask that you do so quickly, so that I can change back into my shoes and socks."

"So demanding." Said while she followed. A hand on his lower pant leg. There was a moment, and then it was dry again. She tapped a finger in thought and removed her hand from his leg, "We're not very productive in these ventures." Her dress suddenly dry again as she was climbing out of the fountain, looking for her hair clip and heels.

"Thank you most kindly." He grinned mischievously, as he put on his socks and shoes quickly. "Indeed, we are not. I suppose we'll just have to make another appointment, and try again next time. When might you next be available?"

"I am always available." A light sigh, heels found she put them on again. "You could show up at two in the morning and I would be available, I'm sure." Half of a smile. "You said you are tending tonight?"

"Aye. And I better be leaving soon, if I am to make my shift on time." He gathered up his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "Are you thinking about dropping in on my shift?"

"If I wouldn't be a bother." Hair clip in hand, she would either have to put it up again or fix it to look less tussled while it was down.

"No bother at all. Nice to have a friendly face in the Inn and all that rigamorale." Once last glance over the outside area, before he looked in her direction. "Whenever you are ready to leave, I am."

"A moment." She went back into the inn, finding a mirror and putting her hair up again. A glance was cast towards the liquor she'd left on the bar. It would be a bad idea to drink it now.... so she left it where it was and returned outside again. "Ready."

The gloves were put back on, then, before he glanced sidelong at her. "I left my map in my bag. Do you know the way back home?"

"Home is there." Pointing at the inn, "But lucky for you I also know the way back to the Red Dragon as well."

"Aye. Well then, lead the way." And to emphasize his words, he swept a hand in front of him towards...whatever it was that lurked out there, in that realm.

((Friday May 16, 2008 - Evening))

Because of the injury to his arm, Locke was a little less dressed up than he was usually. He didn't really feel like taking the time to put on a dress shirt, and besides, tying a tie was rather difficult with one arm. Instead, he wore a simple black long-sleeved shirt and dark blue jeans, with well-polished black Chelsea boots. His left hand held the map, with his messenger bag draped over the left shoulder. With a bit more ease this time, Locke was able to traverse between realms until he was in front of the Forgotten Layers Inn. Once there, he folded the map and placed it in his bag, before heading onto the porch and inside. The surprise at his knock last time was not forgotten, so this time, he simply opened the door and stepped inside.

Izira was seated behind the bar upon the tender's stool that provided a bit of back support. She wore a grey dress with a black belt with closed-toe black heels. The top of the dress was of a slight wrap style, with a modest v-neckline. A glass of ice water was on the bar top, but Izira's hands and attention was upon the large orange cat that was happily sprawled out and getting his stomach scratched. Odd behavior for a cat, perhaps. When the door was opened the cat quickly rolled into a sitting position and fixed the blue one with a look from bright green eyes. Izira smiled, "Locke, a pleasant surprise." Then a pause, her head tilted, "What happened to you?" Noting that his right arm was in a sling.

"Got a little too clever in the Duels a couple of days past. And took a little too long to see the healer. Decided, rather foolishly, to work my stint at the Inn before getting it checked out." A glance over at the cat, before he turned back to Izira. "Slightly separated shoulder. Should be able to take care of it with some rest, ice, and a little magic." He shrugged his good arm. "How are you faring, Izira?"

She listened to his explanation, keeping eye contact except for when she looked towards his arm. A smile, it seemed aside from being hurt he had everything under control now. "I am well." Her hand reached out, petting the feline who offered a loud purr without removing his eyes from Locke. "It has been rather slow, but I cannot complain."

Another glance over toward the cat, and he tilted his head curiously at him. Was he...watching Locke? Hmm. The ice elf scratched his chin, before shifting his attention back to Izira. "Good to hear. If I may say so, it is good to be in a place with some bloody peace and quiet, for once."

"You are always welcome to come for a stay, this is an inn - there are rooms. Get you something?" She stood up behind the bar, hands moving away from the cat. No fur had been shed from the feline?s coat. As Izira moved, so too did the cat. He stood on the bar top and moved as close to Locke as he could, sniffing at the air around him as he kept his visual. "That's Silas." Izira offered as an introduction.

It was a cutesy gesture, but Locke held his hand out to Silas for a paw-shake. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Silas." His head swiveled to follow Izira. "Whiskey on the rocks, plenty of ice, if you would be so kind." He flashed his best dimpled smile Izira's way, the bright white of his teeth clearly visible.

"My, my, my... not water for a change. Whiskey on rocks it is then." A twist of a smile watching Silas and Locke as she turned and got the drink together. Lots of ice as requested was placed into a glass with her best whiskey, the bottle kept out for refills. She set the glass before Locke but out of the way of the cat that was trying to ram his head into the offered hand and purring again.

He stepped away from Silas briefly, to set his bag down on the floor next to his stool, before he moved toward the feline again and petted him. His gloved palm was still cold, even through the leather of his black dress gloves. He spoke to Silas in a voice that was half-coo, half-paternal. "Friendly, aren't you, mate?"

~Oh, aye, I?m friendly.~

Silas? mind voice echoed inside Izira?s head. A soft chuckle, she covered her lips and tried to offer a smile to Locke. Really, how could she explain that it wasn't his behavior but something Silas had said to her? She picked up her ice water. "He likes you." The feline meanwhile was starting to try to get at the gloves, trying to gently bite and tug at them.

"You really don't want me to touch you with my bare hand, mate," Locke said, warning Silas. He grabbed the glass of whiskey that had been offered to him previously, wet his lips with a small taste, and sighed. "Perfect, mate." Then, he took a bigger sip of the liquor, before setting the glass down once more. "Thank you most kindly, mate."

Again, Silas offered his secretive commentary. ~Mate, mate, mate. He?s making me frisky.~

Izira?s lips were pressed together, as though suffocating a smile. Glass of water given up, she reached over the bar and reclaimed Silas into her arms. Petting him as he watched Locke. She leaned over to nuzzle the feline's head a secretive move that allowed her to lower her voice and hiss, unnoticed, into Silas? ear. ?I?m going to put you out if you don?t stop.? Then offered Locke a smile. "You're welcome, Locke."

He swirled the liquid and ice around for a few moments, before taking another drink. "Is your cat usually that nice to strangers?"

~Oh, aye, put me out.~

"Not all of them, you should consider yourself special." Cat in her arms she made the way around the bar and made for the door, planning to put the feline out.

"Oh, really," Locke said, somewhat noncommittally. He swirled the beverage around, before a thought suddenly crossed his mind. Should he say something, or shouldn't he? With a wicked grin, he made his decision. "Read the Gangstar lately?"

Reaching the door and putting Silas outside, the feline meowed at her and trotted off.

~Have fun with the Blue One.~

She shook her head and turned to look at Locke as the door closed. "The gangster? That's the gossip column, right?" A shorter shake of her head and she came back to the bar, remaining on the patron side. Her water was reclaimed, "Not recently. The last thing I read was about Alain being a ladies' man a while back."

He waved his good hand in the air, laughing. "Oh, Franco just likes to make things up, or blow things out of proportion to sell a few papers. No worries, mate. Why, if one were to believe everything written up in there, they might think that you and I were a couple." He ducked his head a little and grinned slyly.

A pause, processing what it was he said. Her brow furrowed not because she was put off by the implication but more so because she was wondering how it was anyone would ever think that. "With what evidence?"

Locke shook his head, half-amazed at the surveillance skills Franco possessed. "The fact that you and I entered the Inn together...last Wednesday I believe? 'Dressed to the nines,' I believe was how he put it. I suppose he doesn't know that much about me. I dress to impress no matter where I go." A glance down at his relatively casual outfit for the evening. "Today notwithstanding."

"I wasn't dressed any differently than I usually am." She considered it. Alain said the inn had eyes and if one of those eyes were putting out false information perhaps it was for the better? She offered a light shrug, and sipped her water. "People will think what they think, right or wrong."

He chuckled, and then drank some more of his whiskey. "I don't think the world is ready for blokes and birds like us. People who actually have fashion sense, and don't dress like their bloody mums dragged them out of bed before school and threw on whatever they fancied best. But, aye, you are correct. We can't change the minds and hearts of others."

"It strikes me that the general idea for the women in RhyDin is that less is not less enough." A faint smirk, she settled her back against the bar. Considering that night, "Didn't you end up spending time with your..." A pause wondering for the description and went for the obvious one, "girlfriend that night?"

He nodded to Izira's words, adjusting the strap on his sling so that it was more comfortable on his right arm. "Aye, I did. Not a lot of time though. It was the first time I had seen her since Johnny and Sianna's wedding." He paused, sighing a little bit in frustration. "I have been terribly busy as of late, though, trying to practice and improve my skill for the duels. Sometimes, though, it feels like I'm beating my bloody head against the wall." The gloved left hand made a fist and lightly struck the top of the bar.

A glance at the hand as it struck the top of the bar. A brow lifted and she took a slow drink from her water before turning towards him, "Why do you do it then?"

"It is...somewhat complicated, mate." Was that...a cryptic reply? From the normally loquacious ice elf? Gloved fingers begin to drum at the bar.

"If you don't want me to drag it out of you, I won't." Water glass set on the bar, she checked his whiskey level.

The whiskey glass was about half-full, the ice cubes still solid and un-melted. "Sometimes, I am not quite sure myself why I put myself through it. The injuries, the beatings, the blood. I have moved up a rank in Fists, but in Swords? I seem to be hot and cold. One day, I can beat a baron insensate. The next? I am losing to a bloody neophyte."

"What is the gain?" Emptied handed with the water set aside, she just watched Locke when he responded and wondered about it to herself. Going through so much effort, and for what?

"There are...certain prizes. If you win enough. Baronies and Overlord-ships, Towers full of magics beyond almost all mortal comprehension, the Opals." A slight frown, at that. He had heard...stories about them, though he wasn't quite sure what to think of them. "Power, fame, notoriety, wealth. Plus, quite simply, it is a challenge. To see how I fare when faced with those who, by all rights, should obliterate me in single combat. And yet, there is nothing quite like the taste of victory, hearing that caller announce your name as the winner. It is...damn satisfying, if I do say so myself."

She fell oddly quiet as Locke spoke, not just a silence from listening but a silence brought on as the words he spoke awoke visuals in her mind. Magic beyond almost all mortal comprehension... a chill feeling touched the back of her arms. Lips were wetted before she could find her voice, not sure where his words ended and her mind had wander. A smile was offered, she hoped it looked understanding.

He grinned cheekily, as he tossed off his next comment. It was an attempt to make it seem less serious than it really was. "Plus, I rather enjoy a good ruck." He sipped more whiskey, shrugging his good shoulder once again.

"Or a bad one?" Offering, coming back to herself. She reached for her water again and brought it eagerly to her lips.

"The only bad ruck is one that you lose," Locke said simply. With little fanfare or warning, he lifted his left hand to his mouth, pulling his glove off with his teeth. He spat it on the bar next to the bottle of whiskey, before closing his eyes. That familiar chill breeze surrounded his person, as he held his palm up to the ceiling. Just above his hand, a small ball of ice started to form. When he was finished, he opened his eyes once more, letting the ball drop into his palm.

A quiet chuckle to his comment. His peculiar movements catching her attention, a smile forming as she caught on what he was doing. She watched with muted amusement as the ball was formed and the dropped into his hands. "Duels not the only practice you have been tending to?"

He tossed the sphere in his blue hand, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Indeed. One need only remember that there is water vapor in the air, and I can pluck it from there like you might pluck an apple from a tree. A rather useful skill and one I wish I had thought to try before."

"Well, now you know." She set her glass back on the bar, the ice in it was gone and the water was warm to the touch. A smile in place, she seemed hesitant to mention working on the elemental project. Watching the orb of ice. Locke's ice had never bothered her before, but that chill on her back of her arms returned as she thought about the ice under her skin.

A few more tosses and Locke was soon bored with his toy. He looked to Izira, somewhat sheepishly. "Any place I can dispose of this?" He set the ball on the bar, and then slugged back what was left of his whiskey.

"Allow me." Her voice was quick, and her hand moved just as quickly. Touching the orb and allowing her heat to focus on it. In one moment the orb was there, the next it was a puff of shaped steamed that vanished back into the air. Izira's hand lingered there a moment, fingers flexing. She appeared to relax, hand brought away. Though, she didn't look at Locke. "Did you want a refill?"

"If you would be so kind." Locke struggled for a moment, but eventually managed to force his hand back into the glove. Without missing a beat, he jumped to another topic of conversation. "So...when are we going to create those dragons or lanterns or whatever it is you wish for me to help you with?"

The whiskey bottle was lifted, a good portion poured into his glass. Bottle sealed and set away again. "When do you think you would next be able to visit?" It was obvious 'now' was not an option, or at least not one she was up for at the moment.

"Monday, perhaps? Before Fists...Or, perhaps, if you make it worth my while, I might decide to skip all that loathsome violence and spend the day here." Locke winked at Izira, then, and had a strange thought. Had he ever winked at her before? Hmm. For good measure, he decided to wink again, even if there was no rhyme or reason for it.

She blinked in return, once again at a lost for words. Surely, he meant nothing by it... he had that girl, after all. But then again what would be worth his while? Izira hadn't been speaking to him long enough to truly know or venture a guess. And Alain? She couldn't very well blurt out that she was with Alain. Firstly, telling everyone would defeat the point of it being a secret for the time being and secondly, if that wasn't what he was getting at... which she didn't think it was, she would look like an utter fool. Her smile wavered, "What is worth your while, Locke? I fear I'm at a loss..."

And as quickly as he had broached the subject, he pulled back, still grinning mirthfully. "Food. A drink. Perhaps a cold bed to rest my bones, if necessary. If I get knackered with the magic, as I am wont to do." He took another slug of the liquor, waiting for her reply.

"Food, drink. Of course." A hand vaguely gestured towards the stairs, "There are plenty of rooms upstairs." A pause in her speech as she looked at him, taking in his mirth with the smallest of frowns. "Ice can be supplied as well."

"Speaking of beds, I do believe it would be ill-advised for me to walk back to the city at this hour. I am feeling rather knackered, still, and a bit stiff and sore." He touched the sling, needlessly, for emphasis. "Would it be a bother to request a room tonight?"

"No bother." Said as she stepped away, space put between them as she relaxed a little. She felt silly, she was jumping at ghosts. Going behind the bar, she looked through the rooms and snagged a key for one of the suites. "Is there anything else you need before I show you to your room?"

He stood from his stool, and then kneeled to pick up and shoulder his messenger bag. With a bit of a grunt, he rose, adjusting the strap on the bag. "Well...is it going to be all right if I adjust the temperature in the room to be a touch...colder?"

"The only one in there will be you." Another pause, "I mean, yes. It would be fine, Locke." Key in hand, she didn't keep her face on him long enough to see an expression if one was given. Moving towards the stairs, finally giving a glance behind her before heading up the stairs to make sure he was following.

He followed behind her slowly, walking up the steps with the usual bounce in his step. "You mean, there is no else here presently?" Locke asked, with a touch of confusion.

"There are a few others, for Alain's village. Workmen. They will be gone in a few days or two. But they are in different rooms," On a different floor. "And what you do to your own room will not extend beyond unless you leave the door open." Climbing the stairs before him, feeling just a little self conscious of the movement of her body. Her grip tightened on the key. They went up to a third floor, and Izira stopped and the first door to the left in the hallway that topped the stairs. The key inserted and the door opened, revealing a plush sitting room complete with a cold fireplace and a private bar. "It is a bit more than you need, but there is a full private bath and more space to enjoy yourself."

He nodded to Izira as she opened the door, and then whistled lowly to himself at how nice the room was. His own place at the Red Dragon Inn was...unembellished to say the least. And not very well lit, to boot. This...was much nicer. The smile that crossed his face was a bit softer and more genuine, and he almost set his hand on her shoulder as a gesture of friendliness. He pulled back quickly, though, letting it dangle by his side. "Thank you for letting me stay here on such short notice, Izira. I shall endeavor not to make things to difficult on you or the rest of your staff." Which, come to think of it, he had never seen. Hmm...

She didn't correct him. Aside from when the villagers were helping in the kitchen it was just her and the inn that managed things. Her own smile soften as well, inwardly she felt back for the route her thoughts had gone. "Think nothing of it, a place to stay is what an inn is for. Do you need ice to be brought up?"

"If you would be so kind." He stepped into his room, then, setting his bag down on the floor out of the way. Locke spun around in a circle, the better to see all of the room with.

She gave a nod, "I'll be back in a moment." And, after setting the key on a table by the door, slipped off back down the stairs. The room was nicely put together, and didn't sacrifice comfort for style but managed to attain both. The furniture of cool grays and blacks with glass topped tables for stands and at the bar. Curtains were thick and wouldn't allow sunlight in unless it was desired. Many lamps set upon tables, into the walls and from the ceiling to allow for whatever kind of lighting might be desired. To the right double doors opened to a bedroom fitted with a king sized bed, writing desk, nightstands and two personal dressers. The full bath just off from there.

If she hadn't been coming right back, he probably would have worked his room-chilling spell right then and there. Instead, he walked into the bedroom and sat on the bed, slowly removing his sling from his arm with a slight wince of pain. He let the injured appendage hang down by his side, tossing the sling to the nightstand with his left hand. Once that was done, he shuffled into the sitting room, to wait for Izira to return with his ice.

She could be heard on the stairs first, before appearing at the door. In either hand she carried a large three gallon bucket full to the brim of ice. If she looked like it was an effortless task, it was because the buckets had been spelled to ease the load for the carrier. "Room service." She said with a quirk of a smile.

He gestured toward the private bath with his good hand, the bad arm dangling limply by his side. "If you would be so kind as to fill up the bath tub, mate?" He assumed a lean against the wall, grinning. He could get used to this...

"I should set something up so that an ice bath would be easily accomplished without the hauling." Spoken more to herself even if it was aloud. She moved through the sitting room and the bedroom into the bath and filled the large tub up with the ice. There would be more than enough room for Locke and his ice as the tub was big enough to emerge in without spillage.

"What did you have in mind? A spell of some sort?" Locke stepped over to wear the bathroom was, peering in to watch as Izira dumped the ice into the tub. "Thank you most kindly, mate." He stepped back, once she appeared to have finished, in order to let her pass back through.

"A spell, yes. Not too hard to accomplish." She smiled moving out from the bathroom. "I believe you are set."

"At the risk of sounding repetitive and redundant, Izira, thank you. I greatly appreciate your generosity and hospitality. I will see you in the morning, most likely? Before I head back into town, correct?" His head tilted a touch, curious as to what her response would be.

She nodded slowly thinking, "Is there something you enjoy having for breakfast?"

He shook his head no slowly. "I usually just eat cold fruit for breakfast. Or cold cereal. No bacon, no sausage, no pancakes, no waffles..." A sad sigh escaped his lips, before he tried to cover for it with a smile. "Whatever fruit you can scrounge up will be aces, mate."

"I think you will find yourself pleasantly surprised." A smile, she moved off towards the door. "See you in the morning, Locke."

He switched over to his melodic, sing-song language and accent, then, as he spoke his final words of the evening to Izira. "Tenna' tul're, Izira." He shut the door softly behind him, the locks clicking into place soon after.

Izira made her way down the stairs with the two buckets in hand. As she made the landing on the main floor Silas was spotted back inside and sitting in wait on the bar?s countertop.

The feline?s tail twitched. ~I like him.~

She sighed in response, putting the buckets away. Without further comment from either of them, Izira went into the kitchen to slice an array of fruit and chill it for the morning meal.

((Monday May 19, 2008 - Early Evening))

Early evening, the thinning population of the inn was becoming even more noticeable with the lack of any sort of dinner crowd. The workers had either going back into town or to the village to join their new friends in a meal. Izira did not regret the lack of people, it suited her. She had more time to think, to try to find what was causing that itch of need under her skin and what would make it go away. Alain's visit had been pleasant, but there was still that tickling sensation that she was ready for something. Silas' only offer of help was to wait, soon she would find what she needed or it would find her. It was cryptic and unhelpful in her opinion. Fingertips danced over the keys of the piano, creating a music that was a soft hunger of want. The want translating in the listener's ear to whatever was true for them. Izira's want was a mystery unto itself, but she played further anyway. From the door the view would be mostly of her back. Hair pulled up from her neck, a white top that clung to the edges of her shoulders was paired with a charcoal grey skirt and matching heels. No jewelry adorned her flesh.

Silas was there, perched beneath the piano bench. His paws all tucked under the roll of his body, bright green eyes watched the door.

After the prior evening's events, Locke was...conflicted, to say the least. What did he want from his life? A steady girlfriend, a nice place of his own, a job that wasn't as dependent on random chance and the willingness of others to play cards with him? Or was his old life, as dangerous and deadly as it could be at times, something he wanted to return to. He couldn't fight that evening, and he hadn't seen 'Lanta on duty in the Inn, so restless legs decided to go elsewhere. Back to the Forgotten Layers Inn. The outfit he wore was one of his favorites, even though it might not have matched perfectly with his pale blue skin. The usual black dress trousers, patent leather Oxfords, and simple belt were combined with a crimson button-up and solid black tie. His right arm was still in a sling, and his left arm had his messenger bag draped over his shoulder. A few trips in, he was starting to find his way through the rifts in worlds faster than before, though he still needed the map. Once he had arrived, he swiftly walked up to the porch and opened the door. Hearing the piano playing, though, he decided to lean against the door frame and watch Izira play.

~You have company.~ Silas' voice intoned within Izira's mind.

~Someone that requires me to stop playing?~ She asked back, head tilted just so with the question. It might have looked like she was considering her keys as she continued to play.

~The Blue One, he looks willing to wait.~ Silas' eyes stayed on the man.

~Good of him.~ She smiled, reaching the peak of intensity of the keys.

~Have I mentioned that I like this one?~ Silas' tail flicked back and forth.

~Sh. I'm playing.~ The notes carried from the piano, filling the small room with music. Even knowing the notes she played, the emotion it carried raised goosebumps over her skin. It was enough to take her breath away. And then the climax of the notes was reached, the music slowed and faded away to silence. She exhaled a slow breath, finding the calm within, before turning towards Locke with a smile. "What did you think, mate?"

Locke couldn't clap his hands, so instead, he slapped his chest lightly. "Aces, mate. I didn't know that you could play the piano. I...rather liked the song." His posture straightened, as he stopped leaning against the door and walked further inside, shutting the door behind him. "How are you faring this fine evening, Izira?"

"It is one of my talents. I am glad it pleased your ears." Turning further to face him from the bench where she was seated, "I fare well, I suppose. Yourself, Locke? Is your arm doing any better?"

Silas unfolded his legs from his body, stretching out with a wide yawn before settling back down onto his hind legs. His tail curled about his form.

"A couple of days, and I will be right as rain once more. And it won't be too soon. The only exercises I have been able to do are running and leg lifts, things of that sort. I miss-" He paused, a bit suddenly, as if deciding against using one word and choosing another, instead. "I miss being able to exercise my arms as well."

She only lightly raised a brow, though she didn't allow her mind to follow any sort of trail on what he might have been ready to say. Standing up from the bench she made her way towards the bar. "Hopefully those days will go by fast for you and you can return to... exercising your arms." A smile towards him, "Would you like a drink? I've brought something special up for you from the cellar... I do not know if it will be to your taste, but I brought it up nonetheless."

The feline followed after Izira, though breaking from her as she neared the bar and making for the man with a meowed cry. The feline's call a lower tone. ~Wonder what else is to his taste.~

~Silas.~

The cat sat down in front of Locke, canting his head at the man.

Locke crouched, to pet the cat on his head with cool, gloved fingers. "And how is our fine, furry, feline friend faring this evening?" he asked Silas. Kneeling, he looked up at Izira. "Certainly. Just as long as it is something that you can serve with ice." Locke started to skritch under Silas' chin, then.

Silas went silent under the attention purring loudly and moving under the man's hand. Scenting him.

"This drink doesn't need ice." Said with a slight knowing smirk. She moved towards the private cabinet, unlocking it. Mist fell out of the now opened door, the frost that had only covered the bottle when it had been put away now stretched out below it as well. Izira's delicately lifted it up, showing Locke the silver-blue bottle that was covered in frost. A hand moved to clear the silver label with black script. "Glacier."

An eyebrow arched, as he continued his ministrations to Silas' head, now focusing his attention on the feline's ears. "Glacier? Never heard of it, mate. Do you know what is in it?" The bottle...certainly seemed cold. His lips curved into a smile, thinking about it. "I will give it a try, I suppose."

"Brave man." Taking down a crystal flute, like the one she had poured the Dragon's Breath into. Special containers that had been spelled to hold drinks of a more magical element. "Braver, perhaps because I do not actually know what is in it. 'Icy things' is what was told to me. Given the appearance of the bottle, I am inclined to believe." The cork was the same color of the bottle and upon removal was revealed to be formed like an icicle. "Clever."

Silas, stilled, and then moved to hop from the ground onto the top of the bar and look at the open bottle.

Locke followed the cat to the bar, slipping the messenger bag off of his arm and onto the ground next to his stool. He sat down, attention divided between Silas, Izira, and the bottle of cold liquor. "Icy things isn't terribly specific, is it, mate? Though I suspect it will take a lot more than a mere bottle of booze to freeze my innards. Pour when ready." A sweep of his hand toward the bottle accompanied his words.

And so the drink was poured, the liquid coming out clear as water. As the liquor filled the flute, the outside of the crystal started to frost over. Izira stopped pouring with the flute half full. "I wonder what it would take to make an ice elemental cold." Setting the bottle down on the counter, incase more was wanted.

Silas' tail flicked again, he had thoughts of his own? like what it would take to effect the Blue One in other ways, but he knew those thoughts needn't be shared not even with his mistress.

He watched the glass ice up with amusement, clapping a hand against his chest. "Aces! That is a new one to me, mate. Never seen a liquor freeze a glass on its own." He lifted his left hand to his mouth, using his teeth to pull it off. Tentatively, he poked a blue finger at the frosty flute, sighing involuntarily at how cold it was. He wrapped the rest of his digits around the glass, brought to his lips, and took a taste sip. He shuddered, as if a cold chill had traveled through his body. "...wow." His next drink was bigger, longer, although it wasn't quite a gulp. It tasted faintly of various mints, some of which he couldn't immediately name: he knew, at least, there was peppermint and spearmint, along with a slight hint of spiciness he couldn't quite place. It went down cold, leaving his throat soothed, and unlike most drinks, which warmed the belly, this one made his stomach feel chilly.

She lifted the bottle, her expression please that he liked it. "More?"

Silas hunkered down again, watching the pair.

"Yes," Locke said, a bit more insistent and forceful than he intended. It was... amazing. He held the flute out toward her.

This time she filled it up as full as she could without risking spilling. "I have two more bottles down in the cellar. Didn't bring them up since I wasn't sure if you would care for it. But they are yours, should you wish to leave them here or take one or two with you." The bottle set aside again, within the same frosted circle on the bar she had picked it up from.

His cobalt irises went wide as saucers, as he heard her offer to give him the other bottles of Glacier. He couldn't help but sound a touch suspicious with his next words. When had anyone ever been as generous with him as Izira had been? He honestly couldn't remember. "That is awfully generous of you. Are you absolutely certain you want to give those bottles to me, mate?" He took another sip once he was finished speaking, shivering with delight.

She leaned against the bar, away from his space and considering him before answering. "You find my generosity off putting?"

Silas flopped to his side, continuing to watch the pair.

He flipped his blue hand in the air, in what was supposed to be a dismissive gesture. "Not exactly, mate, though I am a touch confused as to why you are being so generous with me."

Her expression went from thoughtful to a frown, as though the answer was not immediately there. She was a generous person, wasn't she? Thoughts of giving of herself seemed to roll down the same track that led to that itch she couldn't find. Eyes looked away, forcing herself to answer the question as hand. Partially if not completely true. "You are a friend. Besides, the bottles have already been paid for before my exile and the... person... who bought them never returned. It seems death does that to one." A smile, though it was a little thin. "What say you, Locke? A fresh bottle to take home?"

Inwardly Silas had watched the trail Izira's thoughts had gone down, pleased. Bright green eyes returning towards the Blue One.

He drank deeply from the glass as he considered her words. When he was done with the beverage, he set it down, his lips curling into a tiny smile. "I consider you to be a friend as well, and I am sorry that I do not have as nice a present for you. Thank you. I will take a bottle home with me, and leave a bottle with you." He glanced sidelong at Silas, once he noted the feline's eyes on him, but did nothing otherwise, save for drumming his bare fingers on the bartop.

"Then I shall return." Easing the bottle towards Locke, she stepped away from the bar and opened the cellar door. A glance given between Locke and Silas. "Don't let him bother you." Was said before her heels took her down the steps into the cellar and she was gone.

Silas, heaved his body just so, laying almost on his back and watching the Blue One as his mistress left them alone.

He waggled blue fingers at Izira as she went down into the cellar. "No worries, mate. These are enough of a deterrent for most blokes and birds, I suppose they will work for those of the feline persuasion as well." Once Izira was out of sight, he focused his attention entirely on the glass of cold liquor in front of him, drinking from the glass at regular intervals. His fingers still tapped rhythmic patterns on the wood.

The feline did a side crawl towards Locke, remaining on his side.

He turned to his side to look at Silas, lifting his fingers to wave to the kitty as well. He reached for the bottle of Glacier and started to examine it, the frigidness of it soothing to his skin.

Twisting back onto his stomach, the cat reached a slow paw towards Locke's bared skin.

Locke withdrew his hand quickly, shaking a finger at Silas. "What did I tell you before, about touching me?" Locke's tone of voice was still somewhat playful, though. "Not a terribly good idea, mate."

~Trust, Blue One. Trust.~ The feline's head canted, bright greens watching him closely.

At the sound of someone else's voice inside his head, he jumped a little. For all the years he had spent in RhyDin, most of them had been spent in parts of town that were...more mundane than the regular crowd that spent time at the Red Dragon Inn. He had only seen dragons when they were flying in the skies, had really only seen the effects of magic second hand in the spell lamps and wards that dotted certain buildings. Who-who was talking in his head now? A glance down at the cat that seemed to be studying him. Nah...it couldn't be him. He called out to the Inn, looking around to see if anybody else was present. "Whoever is speaking in my mind, I would ask that you kindly refrain. My own voice in my mind is plenty enough, thank you."

~This is not trusting, Blue One.~ The cat came to sit on his back legs as he regarded the man, ~And how do you expect me to talk to you when you don't understand Cat?~ The voice was male, older though still youthful in tone it carried an edge of ancient knowledge.

Locke's eyes narrowed to dark blue slits, as he regarded Silas further. "How do I know it is you speaking to me, and not someone else somewhere in the Inn making me think it is you speaking to me?"

Laughter boomed into Locke's mind, full of amusement. When it died down, he continued to speak. ~I have met few who were wary enough to doubt me. Good of you, Blue One. What will you have me do to prove myself? I am already sitting. Should I lay down?~ Here the cat returned to rest on all fours. ~Roll over?~ The feline did that as well. Then returned to sitting on just his hind legs. ~Or maybe you would believe a cat is more than a cat if you touched him with your icy embrace?~

He shrugged his good shoulder, "One does not make it as far as I did in my previous career choice without being careful and cautious when appropriate. Blokes talking in my melon seems a good time to exercise discretion." Locke seemed amused as Silas laid down, rolled over, and sat. "I have an idea. A test, if you will. I am going to whisper something. If someone else is sending these words into my head, they will not know what I say. But, if in fact you are the source of this conversation, well? You should be able to repeat the word I speak to you." He leaned in closer to a furry, pointed ear. "Banana cream pie."

~I much prefer the key lime, but to each his own. Banana cream pie then.~ The cat stood and walked by the Blue One, sitting in a place that would allow him to give an ear towards the cellar and an eye on the man.

Locke followed Silas' gaze to the cellar as well, before turning back. Only his eyes reflected the surprise that he had otherwise managed to tamp down on his face and in his speech. "You're not quite what you seem, are you, Silas?" Locke paused briefly, to sip from his flute, before returning his attention to the feline. "Why are you talking to me?"

The smile could be heard through his voice, wide if he had a human face to look upon. ~I've taken a liking to you.~ Far as answering that he was more than he seemed, well - that was obvious.

Locke smirked at Silas, bemusement evident in his tone. "Oh? And why is that? Certainly there are far more interesting blokes and birds out there than little old me." There was definitely a touch of false modesty in what he said. He knew that he was unique, and that others knew he was unique. His bare hand went up to sweep over his spiked-up locks of white hair.

~Far more modest... blokes... as well, but few that venture into this realm.~ His head canted, hearing Izira nearing the stairs. ~Question is, are you the type who can keep a secret, Blue One?~

He looked almost insulted at the insinuation he thought Silas was making, putting his hand over his heart for a moment. "Can I keep a secret? I wouldn't have been a very good thief if I couldn't." Locke pretended to zip his lips shut, grinning when he was done with the gesture. "Your secret is safe with me, mate."

~Very good. Not a word to the Lady.~ The Feline said, hopping down from the bar and nudging the kitchen door open to vanish behind it, just as Izira was starting to appear in the cellar door.

A box carried with her, an apologetic smile to Locke. "I should have checked the inventory before venturing down there." Setting the unopened box on the bartop, she shut the trapdoor to the cellar once more.

He had been expecting Silas to say more to him, but once he saw Izira come upstairs, and ran the cat's words through his head once more, he realized what the secret was. He grabbed the glass and gulped down a large amount of what was in the glass, feeling the cold sensation slide down his throat and into his gut. A pleased sigh escaped his lips, as she set the box on the bar. "No worries, mate."

A glance around, not spying the feline. She supposed it was just as well. A smile to Locke, as the box was slid towards him. "Feel up to working on the lanterns? Your room is still available with an added amenity of an 'ice' bath option." Only took a few days that, and a few... mishappenings. It was fixed now, at least.

Locke polished off the rest of his drink, and then smiled his dimpled smile at Izira. "Certainly, mate. I have no hard and fast plans for tomorrow." He stood up, bending over to pick up his messenger bag and drape it over his shoulder. "Will we be breakfasting on fresh fruits again in the morning? He started to head toward the front door, stopped suddenly to look over his shoulder her. "Ready, mate?" He would not step outside until she had gone first, and he had held the door for her. Even injured, he wanted to be chivalrous.

((Wednesday May 28, 2008 - Night))

It is night, and Alain walks in. He is dressed lightly for a nice summer evening. A silent sigh escapes his lips as he passes through the door, and he begins to look around, footsteps slowing.

The lady was not in sight. Truly she wasn't even there. Hadn't been for a while and the sense of the inn was of a lack from that presence. The inn was not empty however. At the bar sat a man. Six foot four when he stood straight, though for now he had an elbow to the bar top and leaned against it. A pipe of dark wood held in his other hand. He was a man built like a redwood tree, tall and thick and solid. His hair walnut brown, touched with golden copper. The short hair of his head slightly curled. It reached down the sides of his face and around his chin and mouth, building a beard of medium thickness. Bright green eyes danced from a face that was a youthful look thirties. He wore a white shirt that was untucked over tan pants, sandals worn upon his feet left his toes exposed. "The lady's out." The man said after a pause, by the time he voice it - it was probably already apparent.

"So I saw," he admits, but doesn't explain it. The man looks familiar, but he can't place it. He looks around a little more, and then back at him, shrugging his backpack down to the crook of his elbow. "Do you know where she went?"

"To escape from everything that isn't giving her what she wants." He said with a smile and a quiet chuckle to himself. He, of course, was one to be accounted in that group. But not the only one. He brought the pipe to his lips and took a sucking puff, blowing out smoke in the form of an 'o.'

He's about to thank him and head out, but he doesn't get the answer he expects. He raises his eyebrows at the man. "...Alright. Who are you?" Ironically enough, the man's arrogance rankles him a little.

"Occupant of the inn, sir." Standing up to his full height with the pipe in his mouth. He removed it after taking a few steps foreword and looking at the other. The pipe was pointed towards him, "What is it, you think, that women want?" His tone seemed genuinely curious, whether for the answer in general or Alain's personal view was unclear.

"Depends on the woman," he answers, believing this to be the Gospel truth. "But I'd say the best of them want love."

"Love." The man repeated with an amused tone. His pipe went thoughtfully back into his mouth and his attention moved towards the various items Izira had left on display on the shelves around the common room. "It is the idea of love, not love, women go after." Turning back towards the man, he waved off any forthcoming response to that comment. His voice becoming pointed in his next question, "Is the lady out there looking for love?"

He almost answers that he should hope not unless it's at his place, but stops himself. There are other things to protect - namely, Izira. "Who are you?"

He watched the man a moment and then bowed his head with a cant. "Call me Jeremiah." The pipe taken away from his mouth as he introduced himself and returned when he was righted again.

"Alain," he replies, though he suspects this man already knows. And as he hasn't figured out he?s speaking to the human form of a feline called Silas, he doesn't say what's on his mind. "I couldn't tell you what she's looking for. All I know, it could be the groceries." Suspecting this conversation might take long, he finds a place to lean and light a cigar.

Pipe taken from his mouth, he tapped the mouth piece in the air near him. "The lady is looking for peace."

He aches. It breaks his poker face when he does, for just a moment, and he rubs at the back of his neck as he quickly covers it back up. "Funny, that - me too." He shifts in his lean, arms folded across his chest. "You and the lady talk a lot, then?"

Pipe back in his mouth, he gave a nod to the question. A slow, easy nod of conceding that the man had it correct. Then he blew out another 'o' in the smoke. "Do you know why the lady is unsettled?" His green eyes watching the smoke ring rise into the air.

"I have a theory or two," he answers elusively, still playing the game a little. He wonders how he can word it without giving it away. "...But I think?I hope?if she hangs in there, it'll turn out alright in the end. Things have a way of changing."

He gave a solemn nod, then another. He considered it aloud. "Theory." Taking several slow steps, that put him looking away from the man at an angle. Without turning around he stated, "I have fact."

"I'm listening." He finds a place to tap his cigar.

Jeremiah turned his attention towards the silver bird cage. It was empty, but unlike other times, the door was shut?keeping the ravens from returning to it. "What would you call a woman who lived in a castle, did only as she was told and knew only what others sought fit to tell her?"

"...She's not the only prisoner," he mutters around his cigar, narrowing his eyes at the man.

Then man turned towards Alain, amused. "Is it your interest to hear what I have to say or to talk about yourself?"

"Get fucked," Alain says plainly to him. "You already have your conclusions, so stop pretending we're discussing your argument and tell them to me."

"I do have my conclusions." He said stepping to the bar, the pipe settled into a clean ash tray. "But I would give you a history lesson first." He cut behind the bar and took down a bottle of good whiskey with a singular stout glass. "Not everything begins and ends with you."

"I didn't come here for a lesson from a poor teacher, and I certainly didn't come here to get lessons about myself," he says to him, a bit heatedly. "And I still don't know just who the fuck you are to say all this, so I've only got so much to offer..." He points with his cigar. "So if it's all the same to you, I'll be leaving."

He poured his drink completely calm. If there was heat in the words the other spoke they did not seem to reach him beyond their meaning. Without looking up from his slow steady pour, the man said, "I have been with the lady for nearing eleven years. I know everything about her." Setting down the whiskey bottle on the bar top. "If you want to be wise, you'll listen. I was not speaking metaphorically about castles." He moved towards the ice box, taking out a single cube and placing it into the poured liquor as he finished his comment.

He stops Alain, for the time being. He lowers his backpack again and resumes his lean, but says nothing. The man doesn't seem like a spy...

Good. He had the man's attention. "A girl in a castle, who only does what she is told and only knows what was deemed worth her knowing. How to dress, how to cook, how to play music and sing, how to please a man." He paused there, sure to have gotten the other's attention with that word. Continuing his list, his words became touched with a darker tone, "How to serve, how to feel, how to think." He looked up towards the ceiling. "What would you call a girl such as that? One man called her Pet." His eyes lowering towards Alain. "There is quite the gap in your history of the lady."

It hurts him, though he doesn't play it, as he knows strongly the other won't care. "I know you said to listen... but I think it's important you know I don't want to do that to Izira." Half of the ache, though, is the simple knowledge that this happened to her at all. "...Who did this to her?"

"A man. A dead man. Who he was is not important, only that he was." Jeremiah lifted his glass and took a drink, enjoying the taste. Then he set the glass down on the bar. "A scar. A memory. A slow suffocation she feels while trapped in these walls, kept away from those she would be with and unaware of anything that is going on. If I told you the lady was back with that man, working on some ploy to stop him at his game and then told you it was going 'well'.... would that satisfy you?"

He's forgotten his cigar, and starts just in time to catch falling ash and brush it away into the ashtray. Waves of emotion roll under the surface, but he keeps it under control. "...No... it wouldn't. If she couldn't be stopped from her mission, I'd want to know more than 'well' or 'poorly'." And then, suddenly, he lets out a short laugh and looks at the man. "Goddamnit, Silas, I thought you were a spy at first."

A snort. And his voice took on a dark thread, "A spy could not find his way here." His tone implied that the person would find much worse before setting foot near the inn. He picked up his drink once more, "I told you, call me Jeremiah."

"...Good to know, Jeremiah," he says, to the bit about the spy. He sets the cigar back between his teeth, looks the man up and down once more, marveling silently at the ability of shapeshifting, in spite of his own little newfound skill... and then returns to the prior conversation. "Do you think I can set things right?"

"No, Alain, I do not." He leaned on the bar, speaking frankly to the man. "You smell of women, their scents on you reek of lust. I'm not saying you are with all of these women, but you're not just shaking their hands either."

"You've given me a history lesson... an important one. I'd like to give you one as well, much more recent, pretty brief." He then gestures to the bottle. "Mind if I have a glass?"

"Have your say if you think it will change my mind." He took down a glass and put it before Alain, "Need you any ice?"

"Two cubes, please."

Moving to the ice box, two cube were taken and put into the glass. With the glass before Alain, Jeremiah leaned against the counter with his palms at the edge of the bar. A nod indicated Alain to have his say.

He pours slowly, screws the cap back onto the bottle, and takes a sip. "The law firm I've infiltrated - run by demons, and that's not just a jab at lawyers - would not have trusted my behavior in the year that preceded this past March. Relative to how I normally was, I behaved. I was with one woman, and even when the relationship failed, I remained with one woman. I refused contracts that morally offended me, no matter how much money they involved, and worked for free when it was something I believed in." A rattle of the glass before he sips again. "Not the kind of man DCH would hire as their chief of security... so the Bloods, my allies, made certain... changes, to the surface of my psyche. Read my thoughts if you're able, and unless you dig very deep, you will find alternating thoughts about indulging greed, lust, and a hunger for power. Someone they think they can control and who will have no qualms working for them. ...Sounds easy enough, but it isn't. DCH has eyes in the Red Dragon Inn?image orbs, constantly gathering information?and they've been fed information I keep a cadre of women, and I need the lawyers' money they pay me with to keep my cadre happy. So women in the know have been playing as casual lovers in public, while they mean nothing in private." He takes a drag of his cigar again, and frowns. "If these men knew what Izira meant to me, they'd use her against me. They might try to kill her, or worse."

The rest of the information was taken in and considered. A nice answer, all wrapped up. Though, it didn't completely explain the lust of those women he picked up on and what measured as 'nothing' to Alain. All of that was ignored for his last comment, which made him smile and chuckle. With the same knowing voice he had used when referring to spies getting to the inn, if less dark, he said, "They might try."

He rubs at the back of his neck. "...That's not a gamble I'm willing to take with her. They might fail, they might succeed. Izira's powerful, but so are these men. Even if somehow she was resistant to all possible harm by DCH... the case would fall apart if the community caught wind of who I really am, and it would put an entire network in serious danger." He gestures with his cigar again. "The demons keep blood contracts... they've bound the souls of innocent men and women... and my mission won't be over until every last soul has been set free. It's the right and just thing to do and it'll break their power on top of it all."

He scratched his beard, bright green eyes kept on Alain. His tone was casual. "Souls of innocent men and women." Deep irises waiting for how the other would respond.

"The fact that the one name I know personally is a woman is irrelevant," he replies simply, folding his arms. "I don't know what you're taking from all this, Jeremiah... but it's a sense of duty, not a sense of lust. ...Frankly, I'm not sure I'll survive it."

Again, he considered silently. That he was thinking was obvious. His drink lifted and drained, he moved to place the empty vessel into the back bar sink. A he did so, without looking at Alain, he asked. "If I asked you to leave Izira, would you?" It was a curious question, wondering how much resistance would be met.

"I would not," he replies simply.

A nod given, he turned back around towards Alain. "I could blackmail you." The tone was simple, factual. Words stated as if the idea wasn't new to him, but there was hesitation as well. A desire to not have to take that route. "It would be better, however, if we could come to an agreement instead."

He pauses at the mention of blackmail. Were he an animal, his hackles would rise and he'd begin to growl, but fortunately those instincts remain dormant. But Jeremiah continues, and Alain takes a slow sip of his drink. He decides not to mention the blackmail. "What kind of agreement?"

"I will refrain from being a thorn in your side and give you a chance to keep the lady in your life, if you make two sacrifices of your own. I cannot watch you beyond this realm, what you decided here and now with me will speak levels of your character and how far you will go for her." Moving to stand once against closer to the bar, his bright green eyes studying Alain as a negotiator would watch the calculating felon?waiting to see if he'd lower his gun or continue to resist.

Again, he has to bite something back, but he pushes Jeremiah in the direction he's most curious about - "Let's hear this deal."

Leaning forward on the bar, speaking frankly with Alain. "It's the bond. It works to keep the fire from overwhelming her, but something that happened that day made it unnatural. It isn't good for her, isn't what it should to be." He titled his head towards Alain, hoping he was paying attention?close attention?to what he was saying. "Two things I want from you. First, I want you to give me your okay to block you're being able to use that bond to get into her mind. This is a kindness and a cruelty to you."

He remains silent... nodding a fraction, to say that he's listening, though he does not necessarily agree.

"Second, when the time comes, I want you to surrender the bond to another." He stopped, gave Alain a considering look.

There is a long pause. He rubs at the back of his neck with his thumb, then looks back up at him and asks, "Why?"

"Two reasons. One, I'm still not fond of you. These two sacrifices force you to work harder not to let the lady slip from your grasps?and I tell you?she is slipping. Second, it is what Izira needs. A natural bond, one that her gift benefits from." In his voice, the scales tipped closer to doing what was best for Izira over what made things difficult for Alain.

"You've brought up the reason I don't trust you." He taps his cigar. "You're not fond of me. This whole thing could be one big ploy to split the two of us up. You've mentioned blackmail... a lie wouldn't be such a big leap, you have to admit. I want to be with Izira, and if she does indeed need to be helped, I will help her... but I didn't survive this long in the business by throwing my trust around carelessly."

"Lies to do not suite me, Alain. I am a creature of truth. The truth is not always pretty, but it is real." A grave nod. He turned to the side, hands clasped behind his back. His body rocked in thought. "I'm not the bad guy Alain. I'm not even a bad guy. My sole interest is to do what is best for Izira. Consider my words, consider if you find a chance for the two of you to be together. There is. Nothing comes easy, but with effort... " Tapping his hands together he turned towards Alain, "And even if it is a ploy to split you two up, Alain... consider which is more important: your desire to keep her, or my desire to make her whole again. You say this business you're up to involves saving souls? Very well, so does mine."

There are half a dozen things he'd like to say to what he's said, but again, his parting remark has him curious. "Dealing in truths can get us pretty far. You have my attention."

One hand was one the bar. His eyes upon Alain. Inwardly he measured how much to say, how much he could say. Thick solid fingers drew invisible lines on the bar top as he thought. A yielding nod finally given before he spoke. "This realm has been home to many lost souls. Souls in bodies worn and broken from various histories. Taken in and sheltered but unable to completely heal that which had been broken. Time passes between those who come into this realm and in the time between we sit in dust and wait for another chance to become whole, to be freed. Izira is the host now. Her fractured soul is mingled with the realm, tied to us. If she can pull out of it?become whole?the cycle will cease. It is in our best interest that Izira finds that wellness." His voice was somber, tired. The time he has existed wearing on him more than anything else could. He knew they could be close, he also knew that everything could be lost just as easily.

He lets out a long, quiet sigh, taking it all in and processing it. He lets a silence hang over the room, and he's looking out across the room as he speaks. "I'll do it. But I think we need to be honest with Izira... at least about the second part of our agreement, if not the first." He shuts his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose. "I feared the bond for so long... but once it was established, I grew to love it... I do not think she will take the idea well."

"When the time comes for the second part, we can discuss what should and should not be shared with the lady." Inwardly it was his hope that it would fall out in such a way so as not to be obvious. "Let us refrain from burning bridges we haven't reached. You agree to my first term?"

Part of him still doesn't trust Jeremiah. "...Reluctantly." He looks over at him. "My brain's been addled enough already these past few months, I'm not looking forward to any more of it."

It was agreement enough for him, Jeremiah held out his hand. "Then let us shake on it."

He finds the offer odd, and if experience means anything, something odd will happen upon the handshake. He stares at his hand before he offers his own for a firm shake. "Deal."

It was a firm shake, indeed. But there was nothing to be felt. He wasn't a man of show. The block was set, simple as that, and the only thing that would really give it away would be the lack of it in Izira's presence. Jeremiah offered another concession, "The lady has taken a job tending at a place known as The Great Helm. If you wish to find her, I suggest you try there."

He nods his thanks... and then moves away to collect his backpack. "...You know... I should look into a new line of work. The business of freeing souls doesn't really agree with me." Pack hoisted over his shoulder.

"Try doing it as long as I have." was his tired reply.

"How long?" he asks curiously.

"The span of forty-seven lives." Said as he picked up the bottle at the bar and put at away.

He raises his eyebrows. "Like I said. New line of work." Cigar clenched between his teeth again, he exits.

Moving to the bar and picking up the man's abandoned glass. He held it in hand as the other left. Once the door was shut behind him, he spoke. "Good luck Detective." Then set the glass in the back sink. Perhaps Alain had won him over a little.