It is fascinating to him that, at the Inn, no one seems to find it strange that, on many days, there is an abnormally large wolf laying by the hearth, apparently sleeping there. Then again, it's usually not the best idea to wake such a beast, either, so maybe they think it's best to let a sleeping wolf lie, as it were. He can't say he blames them - if her were not the wolf itself, he might think the same thing.
So that's where the day finds him when she comes into the common room of the Inn. He's not really asleep - he doesn't sleep, not really - and so her scent, familiar after seeing her the other night, rouses his interest once more. She comes in clad in what looks like hunting leathers, heading for the bar, as he sits up and watches her.
They had met - sort of - the other night, after running into one of those 'ancient, omnipotent and all-powerful' types had come rampaging through the Inn and annoying everyone. Please. He could walk down just about any street in Rhydin and run into one of those, nearly all of them spouting the 'join me or face dire consequences' lines of one kind or another. This one was - at best - a flavor of the week. And this lady had been more than equal to the task of helping quell the silly wannabe deity's rampage. Oh, he had been of some small help, but the annoying entity hadn't chosen to confront him directly, instead going for what she must have perceived to be a weaker target. Boy, had (he? she? it?) been proven wrong on that score. Whoever that had been had retreated shortly after the incident, and as he had been going over to her to introduce himself, the Nexus had decided it wanted him somewhere else.
Go figure. He meets a girl - finally - that he is interested in, and he gets whisked off to the other end of town.
As he's watching her, she catches sight of him looking and, digging under the bar for a moment, comes up with two bottles - one of bourbon, the other of tequila - and a couple of glasses. Something must have given him away, then - probably the eyes, he thinks. Those and the amulet are the only two things alike between his lupine form and his human one. As she comes over, he smiles in the way only canines can, before shifting back to his human form in a flaring of brilliant, amethyst-shaded light. He had mentioned tequila the same night they had met, though he hadn't thought she'd remember - it was, after all, only a passing meeting.
"Good memory, m'lady...though we were never really introduced."
She chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the transformation. "Onyxia Uth Dravon Dragonbane. I recall that you stated you wanted a Tequila when Ms. Witch rudely made her demands." The bottle and glass were set down on a table by the couch.
He's never understood why some people have four or five names - he's only ever had one true name, though he has gone by several aliases. He almost gives her the alias by which he usually goes in Rhydin, but something - perhaps a sense that he can trust this lady, or possibly because her name strikes him as being somewhat familiar...or maybe it's just something about her. "Lupinius is my name, though don't go telling everyone that...I like to keep knowledge of my true name to a minimum."
He's puzzled for a moment about why he would trust a more or less complete stranger with that knowledge - it makes little sense to him, though there is something...he can't quite put his finger on it. As he ponders, he picks up the bottle of tequila and pours himself a glass.
She nods as she poured herself a glass of the bourbon. "As you wish, blue eyes," she said with a smile. While she's not looking, he takes the opportunity to look her over again, a bit more thouroughly this time. She isn't the typical young beauty that was common to these lands, looking to be in her later 20s or early 30s. Definitely in shape, though, he can definitely tell that - looking her over as both a warrior observing a fellow hunter, and yes, as an interested male, she does cut a nice figure in her hunting leathers. And she moves with a simple, economic sort of grace that he identifies with skilled, mostly unarmed combatants. Whatever it is she does in her spare time, he doesn't doubt that she's good at it, that is certain.
He chuckles at her simple statement, deciding that 'blue eyes' isn't the best way to be addressed...at least, not at this point in time. "In other company, I prefer to be called Gabriel...there's a sort of irony about using the name." A small part of him is still puzzling over how her name sounds familiar, when it suddenly clicks. He had heard a bit of talk when he and Kaleb had dropped off their charges in the Barony...
She nods. "Gets around fast, especially when one of the Holy Order asks your help." She arches a brow though, and he can sense a mild sort of curiousity from her.
He smiles. The mention of the Holy Order is what really clues him in after the mention of her name in the barony and her acknowledgement. "Roland, right? He and I have met...I came across a trio of escapees heading for the Barony a couple weeks ago and he asked me and my friend to get them there. While we were there I took the time to listen to the locals talk a bit."
She smiles. "The same. Me, I was on my way to meet up on a job for the Barony. A friend is laid up and I went in her place."
He nods as he takes a drink from the glass of tequila he'd poured. "Well, anyone who takes the time to make life harder for the slave industry is a friend to me."
She takes a deep drink of the bourbon. "Yeah, well after growing up with the mother I did. Seems like you are taking down a few yourself."
He shrugs at that. He doesn't have much of a reputation built up in Rhydin, but he's working on it, particularly where slavers are concerned. "Well...I was a slave myself, once. Can't say I cared for the condition much, even if I wasn't really all that aware of being one. I was...well, one could say I was used for what I was created for, and since that has been corrected, I have a rather...violent...reaction to them."
Her silver eyes warm a hair as she says, "I'm sorry to hear that, Gabriel. My mother was one that couldn't stay out of a collar. Always finding her way back in after having been rescued." She finished off the glass of bourbon and settled onto the couch.
His own sapphire eyes had hardened a bit while he was talking about his own distaste of the slave trade, and now, they soften a bit at the talk of her mother. "I can't say I understand why someone would 'want' to be a slave...strange, but I can understand why that would make you not like them much."
"Some people are wired that way," she said with a shrug, "all we can do is keep the ones that aren't out of those hands."
He nods in agreement as he takes another drink of his tequila. "As for myself...well, as I said, I wasn't really aware I was a slave. Someone else showed me, though I wouldn't want to undergo that experience again." He shivers slightly, remembering that. Still, he can't say he's ungrateful - it made him what he is now. "After all, I may have been a slave, but at the time I was still a willing - and most able - participant in his schemes. Still, now I'm able to bend those same skills to making life harder for those like my former master."
A master who is, now, long since less than dust. Lupinius had seen to that, though it had not been his hand that had killed the man, but rather his master's own. The witch who had given him his soul had, perhaps, intended it to be that way. He had never gotten a straight answer for that, but the result had been the same.
She nods. "As you said, you had no idea there was anything else to life other than that, which is just as wrong."
He shrugs at that, voicing his own thoughts on the matter - a statement of simple fact, really. He's long since come to terms with the guilt which had haunted him for so long. "Wrong or right, doesn't matter. I did a lot of things wrong while I was under his thrall, and even if I was a slave, there was a part of me that liked doing it."
"There is a dark side to everyone. Runs in my blood naturally." She eyes him. "Question is, do you let it reign free?"
He raises an eyebrow, those brilliant blue eyes alive again for a moment with violet fire. "Only when I need to." The smile that touches his lips definitely has a predatory look to it, this time.
Her smile seems to mirror his own. "A man after my own heart," she says as she pours herself another glass of the bourbon.
He chuckles as he refills his own glass. "Just being honest. I'm not overly fond of my...darker nature...but it does have its uses."
Still smiling, she says, "Like any other tool. I know the feeling." She shrugs then. "Dad was about embracing his dark side. Not evil, just dark."
He smiles as he remembers something he read, once, by a psychologist named Jung. "'Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness of other people.'"
She nods at that. "Precisely. My house was primarily neutral. It's members were either dark or light, but together we were family."
He smiles again, this time a bit more sad. "Sounds nice...I've never really had what would be considered a 'family.'"
"All I have left is one of my kin and her two children." The tone was soft, wistful, sad.
Without thinking, an impulse borne most likely out of foolishness, attraction and more than a little empathy, he reaches out and touches the back of her hand with the tips of his fingers, sapphire eyes looking into her silver ones. "Believe me, m'lady...coming from someone that has no true family, be glad you have them." He is about to say more, that some people should be so lucky as to have even that, but he stops himself - he would probably come off as condescending, even without meaning to be, and he doesn't want that.
She looks back into his sapphire eyes. "Makes it easier. I still miss my brother, father and uncle."
"Quite understandable...I was part of a brotherhood of sorts, once, the closest thing I had to a family, and I do miss them from time to time. If you don't mind me asking...what happened?"
She shakes her head. "I am at a loss to explain it. Lord Kevin disappeared and the house ... lost it's heart after that."
Either she doesn't know what happened, or she isn't wiling to discuss it - either way, he knows better than to press the issue. It seems to be a tender one for her, something he understands quite well. "I see, I think...the brotherhood I was part of were killed...all but me. But that was...some time ago." Which is a tender subject for him, as well. He can still remember that final fight so vividly...
((Adaptation from live chat - part 1))
