((OOC Note: This thread is a project in conjunction and collaboration with the 'Scarred' story line project that is going on over in The Chainned Inn folder. Please visit there for more fun, more details, and just... More!
Thank you for that quick announcement, and please enjoy!))
_____________________________________________
_____________________________________________
The bulk of the night had already passed, and the off world seraph had spent every bit of it with his tall, siren spouse. They?d chosen a bar a bit more suited to Victor?s tastes for once, not only to change up the environment a bit, but to avoid the bulkier crowds; most folk in Rhydin ended up at the Red Dragon Inn, not the farther reaches beyond the city where the Stars End Bar was.
Anya had long ago abandoned the notion of choosing a seat anywhere other than Victor?s, so that is where she sat, watching as that final gasp of smoke drifted from his pipe, then the last embers faded. Victor?s soft fingers poked at Anya?s ribs, and the familiar smirk lit his face, although it was still a strange sight with the dead stare of his empty mana eye.
"I've at least made some f**king progress now... I have the sky again, but I am ...hesitant..." he stumbled over the word, "to take you with me until I know I will not crash into a tree." The translators were still down, and his voice carried the heavy, almost greek accent as he spoke.
A darkness came a creeping then, a chill in the air so mild at first, one would think that it came from the rush of the repulsers firing as ships landed and departed from the starport just outside the bar doors. But it doesn't fade, doesn't die or waver. Concentrated in its darkness, a life of its own as it pushes through the bar, filling the air slowly.
"Mm... Progress is progress, no matter how slow." Anya trilled quietly in response as those sharp, needle fine teeth spilt out in a smile. Moving to give his finger a flick, the siren chuckled as she shifted; a vision of fire amongst the seraph's serpentine coils of smoke. "Perhaps we should find you an eye patch and dress you as a sailor come Samhain when the children come lighting the gourds and seeking treats."
Fine, tiny hairs stood up on the back of the seraph's neck, and a glance to the console on his wrist was an automatic reflex. Of course, it too had been compromised, and the display was black. Victor only sighed, shaking his head irritably.
"Why would a sailor wear an eye patch?" The connection did not register, despite having been thoroughly acquainted with the sea through his shipping operations. Lore was still a weak spot after all this time.
A moment later, the door is pressed open, allowing a black uniformed figure to push through the doorway. His hand still on the door as he entered, holding the door open as the other hand moved to his back. Dark auburn eyes scan the bar. Something caught his attention tonight, something he'd been watching for a while. And now was the time to act. It wasn?t a moment later that his other hand pulled back from the door, retreating to his back to join the other, as he began to take steps towards the bar.
"Sometimes it's just a popularized image... I meant to make a joke, vischa, but I see that I did not make it good enough." There was that toothy smile again, but it faded quick enough, and those piranha sharp bits went back into hiding again behind the smooth, thin line of her lips. The sudden rush of cool didn't quite register with Anya, so she watched him shiver with open curiosity.
"Cold?" Sub ocean level temperatures could make one immune to a quick breeze or drop in warmth, after all.
Already his fingers were twining into his nischa?s hair, Anya's hair, and the one eye that still worked rarely left her. "No, something else. Probably exiar. I am still trying to reach some sort of ...exena... with my systems. The nano machines still work to adapt. Strange things happen."
Across the way, as the man sat down at the bar, he reached into a thigh pocket, pulling out a very simple black ribbon; a small length; no more than hundred millimeters. He stretched it out on the bar, before looking back over his shoulder.
The eye of flesh deviated for a brief moment, toward the man in black and the ribbon he'd set upon the bar. His thoughts were clear where his speech could not be, and with them he communed to Anya words he could not pronounce. What man carries such accoutrements? That looks like something I'd see in your hair on the theater's stage.
"Mm..." Her gaze too, was drawn by the sudden rise in activity about the bar. Strange figures indeed. Eyes bluer than blue and clearer than clear kept their weight moving from one to the other for a few moments longer than could be deemed polite, but rightfully so. They ended up over on the source of the chuckle, however; interesting. Every motion of hers was slow and sedate, as though she were some great predator that'd spent its afternoon dozing in the sun.
Victor's words brought her back from her slow assessment of the crowd, and right back to the chuckling gentleman, then further to the ribbon in his hand. He very well could be. His air fits that of those that would act as a patron to our establishment.
The man smirked a moment, turning and twisting the ribbon, tying it into a knot before turning the dark auburn eyes towards Victor. ?Good evening.? His voice was pleasant, polite - but hinting at something more dangerous.
Skurs, came his silent reply, accompanied with a chuckle of his own. Victor's contempt for the social elite Anya often entertained was one he wore on his sleeve, and the roots ran deep. No... that one looks... military. Look at the posture.
His head turned then, properly examining the man. Military indeed. "Can I help you?" There was an unspoken tone of this better be important, but Victor's patience with this one was greater than he carried with most who intruded on his time with Anyanka.
?Hardly, my good man.? He smiled politely, too. ?Simply making conversation in this establishment this evening.? He seems to hide the ribbon a moment under the palm of his hand and against the bar. ?Perhaps I could interest you in a drink this evening. In the effort to get to know you better. One must never forget those neighbors we haven't met yet?
A shadow, sleek and perfect, slipping though the doors. On the prowl for something, someone.
Just as like called to like, Anya found herself turning a keener eye towards the quiet man and the petite creature that skirted elegantly through the shadows. The man with his smooth voice and finely edged features, the blonde with her cool silence and deceiving eyes. A predator would always recognize a predator when they saw one, but the siren had little cause to mistrust the man, or the mysterious company moving about the bar, blonde or otherwise, so play nice she would.
He was courteous enough when he spoke, and Victor had actually taken the time to reply to him. She spoke up without invitation, bold as brass and twice as bright by appearance; at least the cayenne waterfall of her hair.
"Neighbors? Mmm... I cannot say I've seen you before." Her voice drawled slow and sweet; enough to make the ocean tide curl with envy and wish for a smoother lap when it rolled across the shore.
?No, I have recently returned to my home here after a very long off world business trip. One I am happy to say was very...very...lucrative.? He chuckled, and that polite smile as he turned his head towards the bartender. ?Your finest off world ale and 3 glasses. On my tab tonight.? Then back to the couple.
A wrinkle of irritation formed on his brow, although it was not directed at the man; it was quite firmly aimed at himself. It was obvious Victor was guarded, and uncomfortably so, without the utility he'd taken for granted. I have got to fix my f**king eye. A simple nod affirmed Anya's words - he'd certainly never met this man before. Then again, between home and work he spent little time in the community, and no seraph worth his wings turned down free beer.
"Ah. A trader then?" The wheels were turning in Victor?s head even as the words left his mouth. Perhaps a customer for the refinery?
"I have associates that trade my products off world, and they've had great results as well as of late. The markets are rising in nearly every sector in the seven sixties and seven seventies." He said.
The delicate blonde saw what she was looking for, saw his occupied state, and simply gave him a respectful bow and a brilliant smile, and turned her quicksilver gaze to her surroundings::
Lucrative indeed. Crooned her unspoken words as she slid her husband a slow, amused looking expression. Anya had her own wheels turning, though they were ones cultivated and pegged just right over years of experience. Unlike Victor, she relied on no tool save her own keen sense and intuition.
Arrogance touched her delicate features however; the type of arrogance one gained with an intimate knowledge of their own strength. The bow from the svelte blonde did not go unnoticed either, it was aimed in their general direction, after all, and given she'd not seen the woman's face before, she assumed it was for their unknown conversation companion.
Their company smiled darkly. ?All the more reason to celebrate!? The bottle was delivered as were three glasses. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw. ?We must drink to the successes of our allies, and the continued uprising of the markets!?
Victor's smirk returned, not blind at all to the shadow in that smile. Still, the man was judged quite quickly to be no threat, even with his systems in chaos.
"Hell, I'll drink to that. More so when my purifiers are fixed." The blonde and her gesture were, however, dismissed altogether. It was obvious Victor only had eyes for the woman who occupied the seat aside him, although at this point they were practically sharing a barstool.
?That is the sprit!? He popped off the lid of the ale, pouring a generous amount into the first glass and sending it to Victor.
?And for you, my lady? A drink in celebration?? He poised the neck of the bottle over the empty glass. Meanwhile, Eiellani found a place to sit, perching like a hawk on a branch, watchful and waiting while maintaining an air of grace.
"There's no harm in one, no." Though it wasn't her preferred drink, she had better manners to ask for anything other than what he was offering. Everything about her screamed quite the opposite of the man she was seated with; with, yes. She hadn't held her own seat for quite some time, Victor was as fine a one as any. Her stare was still ongoing though, as was it's assessing weight; she was open, forward, and elegantly unabashed. "And what might the name of our generous company be?"
The man nodded, his smile widening a bit. ?My manners seem to have slipped a bit tonight,? He began as he poured the ale for the lady.
?My name is Travanix.? Once full he pushed the glass towards her, the edges of that black ribbon poking out of his flattened hand upon the bar. He poured his own drink.
"Travanix." He seemed to taste the word, another of Anya's mannerisms that had taken hold as of late, although the most notable by far was the slight sharpening of his teeth as he did so. Another slightly frustrated wrinkle set to his brow, as he could not check the name against the central omnithal, or even his own terminal. Still, he kept his manners. "Victor Faeraar." The name he used now was not that with which he was born; he'd adopted Anyanka's from the moment they were bonded.
A token, or perhaps a lover's favor? Either way, short of a passing flick of her eyes towards that slip of ribbon, Anya paid the piece no mind. The name Travanix seemed to touch on some bit of her mind, but nothing of substance really came to mind. She'd heard the name though, yes. It was attached to some establishment of sort, but which? For the life of her she couldn't remember, which meant it was nothing impressive, important, or meeting her standards; below her attention.
"Anyanka Faeraar." She returned in that oddly lilted tone of hers. Like Victor, she had an accent, but it wasn't the same at all; hers sounded more suited to a life underwater. Reaching out, she accepted the glass, winding her fingers slowly, as if thought were put into each bend and crook.
He nodded in greetings. ?A pleasure Lord Victor, Lady Anyanka!? Raising his glass to them both. ?To fellow traders and merchants. May your trade routes never dim.? And downed the first glass of ale without hesitation.
A slight laugh followed as Victor raised the glass but hesitated before drinking. "No lord, just Victor. No title ever truly suited me, aside from Knight-Commander, but those days met their end." Then the glass hit his lips and was drained just as quickly as he and his wife?s company?s.
Sliding her free hand up the length of Victor's back in a lazy, proud fashion, she chuckled at his reply to Travanix. "?And though the stage might call me as such, I assure you sir, I am no lady."
One of those glass went to Anya?s lips, and like the lord who'd gifted it to her, she took a sip without any hesitation; poisons were paltry things, and of little concern for the siren. Normally her thoughts wouldn't be so guarded, but given her and Victor?s latest troubles, some of her more recently developed habits would die quite hard.
Travanix?s own glass settled back to the bar. ?Never, my friend Victor, let the old days die.? He winked a disturbing wink with those auburn eyes - it didn't seem natural. He refilled the glasses. ?Traders, merchants should always be treated with respect and honor! Regardless if you *think* you deserve the titles of Lord and Lady, any trader worth his weight in rare cargo will always show respect to his peers!? The bottle placed back on the bar, his free hand grasping that full glass once more. The hand covering the ribbon shifted slightly, but it never uncovered the ribbon.
"Rare cargo, hmm?" Obviously the wheels were turning once again. A potential customer was something he'd never turn away. "I deal in just that. Refined mithril, titanium, and alloy blends of the two in whatever capacity required. Enchanted and virtually indestructible, unless you've got a ...uvelishast... err... very high density, specialized tool."
Victor would feel his wife's hand running along his spine again, her touch extra mindful as her fingers rounded about those little hollows in his back where finer constructs hid. She made no apology for Victor's speech; his accent was obvious enough, as she was sure was her own exotic presence; though in the whole of Rhydin, just another rare flower amongst rare flowers. "He speaks from well set experience" She assured Travanix with that slow, liquid voice of hers.
The smile their company kept broadened. ?Now that is interesting. I happen to deal in equipment and manufacturing hardware! Truly, the stars are looking upon us tonight!? He took a half drink of his ale. ?Tell me, friend Victor - what kind of prices do you get for your shipments? A sizable one, 40 or 50 kilograms?? He leaned in a bit to make sure he didn't miss a word.
Ears turn to talk of business, ever attentive even at a distance.
"All depends on what you're after. Pure mithril is costly, titanium not so much. The alloy provides greater ...aithil ...strength than either alone at a ratio of fifty-six and seven ninths mithril, fourty-three and two ninths titanium. That is the weapons-grade product, and what is used in my own augments." With that Victor tapped the mithranium ball in his eye, but regretted it immediately, as he utterly despised that empty hole where his focus crystal and its housing had blown out.
?Weapons grade alloy is, of course, the best... and the best is most costly." His accent stalled in places as he wrangled with his words. It was in moments like this that the loss of the translator was practically crippling. "The rate in gold, as most use as currency here, is eleven to one in weight. Of course, we accept bank credits and even work in trades for ships and mining rights."
? I have a client that is building armor for vehicles. Will it bond easily to other metals? Not that I often trade in war, but the prices are sometimes too good to pass up.? Travanix nodded, listening.
Without a sound, the siren turned her head, and pulled her hand slowly away from Victor's back so she could lay it along his temple. One might see tri tipped ears if they watched the hair about her head. Yes, she had no problem in asserting her own importance over Travanix's presence. Possessive, loyal, and quite obviously the half that wore the pants between them, she crooned softly to him, seeing and sensing his agitation. "Успоко себя, это не машины, которые делают человек, мою любовь"*
To the untrained ear, one might think her words some aquatic sounding babble; soothing and saccharine to the senses, but foreign babble none the less. She turned and gave Travanix a look; the only form of apology he'd receive for her interruption.
His smile was truly infectious for that moment as she spoke, and for that moment he nearly forgot about Travanix altogether. Fingertips wound through her hair and the hand they were attached to was slowly crawling down her side to rest upon her hip. Still, the engineer inside would not be silenced. Once his attention swung back to what he now perceived as a potential customer, the wheels were turning again. "Absolutely. It bonds to nearly everything. We do, however, advise that it not be used in direct contact with ..." his teeth gritted for a moment as he fought to recall the names of the elements as he'd heard them spoken here. "Palladium and Thorium. The ...radiation... they emit can compromise the enchantments unless the plating used is at least ...sixteen millimeters... thick."
Travanix pulled out a pad and quickly jotted that note down. "I will communicate that with my potential client. Thank you for that information. I think I may find reason to visit you again. My understand is that they are building transports. Large ones for troops and supplies." He smirked, downing the rest of his ale.
Nodding, Victor returned the smirk as he drank along with the man. It was clear he did not seem to mind how the materiel was used, or was arrogant enough to believe that no harm could come to him or his own from its use. "My refinery is to the southwest, near the docks. It is a necessary location due to the amount of shipping we've taken on, and besides, the sheer density of the unrefined ore is difficult to transport far over land."
Travanix returned the nod, understanding the difficulties. ?I have had issues like that from time to time. On several worlds, I have had to build warehouses to store goods that would not make long distance transport a viable idea.? He settled the near empty glass to the bar. ?But, that is what we need to do, correct? Learn so our clients do not have to.? He chuckled.
Of course, Victor?s fingertips were still in motion, teasing at the small gap he'd created between the top and bottom of Anya's ensemble, tracing along a narrow path of skin at her waist. She always had his attention, even when the engineer had taken the wheel. "Precisely. The more efficient we are, the more generous they are." Victor grinned with the last. See? This one understands the workings of successful trade. Hopefully he does not become a competitor, as he could likely threaten my monopoly.
The thought was one of many, and soon he was internally plotting as he examined the man once more, seeking an assessment of some sort as to what level of technology he possessed, and whether or not Travanix could compete with his own products.
?Of course, I would never need anything like anything like what you have. I do not deal in minerals, only equipment, supplies and such.? Did he know? Did he hear? ?Minerals, mining itself, never interested me. I leave that to those who excel at it.? He gave a knowing nod towards Victor.
Unfortunately, the lack of his greatest tool, the eye, left him greatly lacking in the information he'd normally glean on first sight.
I have yet to see a threat to you in any aspect from this man, my vischa, save perhaps his smile. That was the devil in her, tempting his. The moons were full now, and with their bond so heavily woven, she knew just what strings to pluck so those gentle hands of his would find a firmer grip in them later, and on her. Keen, yet passive eyes poured then from her husband towards their unlikely companion. Travanix.
The name still teased the siren, if only due to his open, warm demeanor. Common as it was in this city, normally a man of his caliber had some sort of celebrity amongst the folk. She could tick names off in her head at the moment, dozens in fact. Why then was his name and face not among them? "Victor excels in many ways, sir, you've but tapped onto one."
"I started my refinery with that intent, but I found quickly that customers were more drawn to the alloys themselves than finished products. There are many, many equipment manufacturers on this world, but they all lack my homeworld's skill in metallurgy. My retail outlet is the smallest arm of my enterprise by far, and will likely remain that way." To Anya's comment, he could only shake his head and smile, and his cheeks even showed the slightest hint of red, although it did not last.
?My lady, I am sure his talents are...numbered amongst the stars?? Travanix replied as a dark smirk teased his lips. ?As I am sure do yours.? Looking back to Victor as he spoke. ?A man with a vision, you are.? He picked up the ribbon from the bar. ?Would you indulge an old man in an even older custom?? He picked up the bottle once more and shook it a bit, seeing only a few more drinks left.
?In remembrance of this bottle of fine ale.? He chuckled, as he pulled the ribbon from under his hand and wrapped it around the neck of the bottle. ?One more drink from this bottle that gave its life in our celebration!?
Slender shadow slid from her watchful perch, drifting to around the room idly.
Not a lady or lover's token then, perhaps a charm of his own choosing. The man held not handkerchief as some did, nor did he sport a merchant's peacock trappings. It would match his sleek, no nonsense presentation quite well, that little ribbon. Had her seraph not mentioned it earlier, she might not be keeping such idle, internal musing about it. Having long finished her own drink, Anya leaned forward just enough to take their company up on his offer. "Quite kind of you... both in compliment and your hospitality." She replied coolly.
Travanix began pouring the ale into his glass and offered some to the other two. ?It is easy to be complimentry when the company is so easy.? He replied with a devilish smile. ?My Lady.? He poured some into her glass and the rest into Victor's.
Tendrils of dark air moved through the bar, touching the exposed flesh of those in its path - stealing a moment of warmth - and perhaps something more dear, and leaving behind dread and rage for a briefest of seconds. A delicious shiver took hold of Eiellani as that chill brushes her, not breaking her idle stride though.
Old as she was, and aloof as she was, the siren was not without her susceptible bits and pieces. If there was a chill? It barely registered to the creature so entwined with the turbulent sea. Victor, as well, was too close for her to feel any lack of warmth. Like magnets given flesh, their heat, their power, their everything attracted and reflected into one another. Dipping her head to Travanix, she took another draw from her glass.
"I'd say I'm not the only one. You seem a man of quite the vision yourself." Victor smiled in earnest then, and took down the glass just as easily as the others. His eye of flesh studied the ribbon, and his conclusion mirrored Anya's own. The chill hardly registered with the warmth of so much ale without the aid of his purification subroutines, and, of course, the soft press of Anya's body as his arm wrapped a little further around her waist.
? Perhaps, Lord Victor, I could take a tour of your facility some time? I would enjoy seeing what you are capable of. Perhaps you and I could do some business down the road.? He put the glass to his lips, smiling once more before a drink slid down his throat. The glass moving from his lips and extending out...towards the floor?
It wasn?t a moment too late, nor too soon, that Eiellani?s wandering takes her to Travanix's side, where she took the glass with seamless grace.
"Absolutely. Any time during business hours, we welcome guests to the facility, and if you'd rather have a private tour that could be arranged as well. Of course, you'll understand if there are some aspects of our engineering that I cannot fully explain. The technology is from my home world, with some improvements I've made, and many of the terms do not exist in this language." He sighed with the last, as it was, for the most part, a lie. The truth was that he could not speak them.
?I am sure you we can make arrangements for me to see what ever it is you feel I should see.? Travanix smirked as the glass pulls from his fingertips. ?I have no doubt, we will both get what we need from our business transactions.?
Sensing Victor's discomfort again, Anya dropped her hand once more so all those tepid tips could weave back down along his spine; comforting, reassuring, pouring in all the unspoken she could. The blonde and her silky insertion into their midst was enough to make her eyebrows arc upwards, however, and enough to take the sharp, crystalline shine of her eyes and turn them back into assessment mode. New things to consider, more little quirks to observe.
The blonde in question made sure the glassware was cleaned away neatly, not a motion wasted in the woman's movements; clean, measured, and precise.
His eye followed that glass for a moment, to the woman who collected it, but Victor had observed in his time here that it was far from uncommon for the wealthy to have servants in their employ. A nod to Travanix followed, returning the smirk once again; it was practically a fixture upon his face and had only become more so in the cycle he'd spent on this world. "Of that I've no doubt. With the right products and the right market, I can virtually guarantee my customers a very generous return on their ...investment. Quality speaks for itself."
?Yes. I am sure that the quality of the product will be extensive.? He reached over to the bottle, pulling the ribbon off the bottle, and placed it gently, carefully on the bar top. ?A memento of our occasion.? He smiled darkly.
Quality does speak for itself, vischa. Riding on the full moon's high long before their day had even started, Anya found herself more and more hard pressed to pay this business talk any real attention. The man with them was odd, yes, but what was odd in a city who's bricks were built upon that very notion of oddity? The ribbon, the woman, the predator feel about the man; all trivial. The world was directly beneath her, and she let it know so by the slow, sensuous paths she continued to weave along his back. Watching Travanix with a lazy air, Anya slowly finished her drink, leaving the 'memento' to the men.
An engineer always studies first and asks questions later, and Victor was among the greatest of them. He immediately took up the ribbon between his fingers, and although he could not scan its composition, he was quite accustomed to the feel of silk; his Nischa's favorite material, woven into most of her clothes and even the sheets of her bed. In fact, he'd already imagined how it would look in the endless red of her hair.
"My thanks, Lord Travanix." He returned the title, finding it to suit the man quite well, or at least the way he carried himself. He seems to be an elimer of some stripe, although I still sense military bearing. Either way, this shall be quite profitable.
Lani maintained her perfect pose at her Lord's elbow, still and silent.
He nodded at Victor, auburn eyes moving from Victor to the Lady. ?I wish you both a good night. I will be in touch.? He smirked, his arms folding behind him as he began to slowly walk out. The cat did infact eat the canary, and then gobbled up the goldfish for desert.
The barest hint of a smile as Eiellani followed. ?In a curry sauce I imagine, My Lord.?
?Of course, my lovely pet.? Travanix chuckled as he moved to the door, the dark gaze moving over the others. His hand extended out towards Lani. She knew what he wanted. And indeed, just like that, it was removed from where it had been strapped to her thigh and handed over.
She barely watched the two go, save for that polite space of time where Anya made it a point to tip her head to the man and his little blonde piece of company. Still.. Odd. Odd indeed. That would be the word she tasted for a while, but not one she cared to continue tasting at the moment. Victor would feel her hands winding back around, seeking down his side, nearer his thighs, but not for the obvious, adult target; they deviated, sifting down into his pockets for that pipe and leaf pinch of his.
"Excellent. A pleasure meeting you, and I look forward to our business." A nod and a smile followed, then Victor's attention returned swiftly to Anyanka, although one could say it never truly strayed from her.
Odd, yes. But one who travels with servants even to a bar and carries himself as a liege lord is likely to have credits flowing from every direction. So, odd and ...quite profitable. Shifting slightly in his seat, Victor accommodated her searching hand and drew from his pocket a device he'd just acquired, one he never thought he'd actually need: a simple butane lighter.
Clucking her tongue softly, the siren shook her head as she watched the slight wilt in her lover's expression. It was there almost every time he found or felt himself inept due to the loss of his favorite toy.
"The night has your face in her favor it seems." She murmured quietly, her hands moving as his own might, being an extension, moving as a part of his, completing the ritual of it with him. Oddly, she'd become quite adept at this; finishing his motions, stealing his thunder, as it were. Though where most would feel inadequate or insulted, Victor positively reveled in the act, quite willing to relinquish himself to her will. Such had always been his nature with her.
"Perhaps she does... but your favor is the only one that matters to me." Still, he toyed with the ribbon in his hand, until the vision from before returned to his mind. Without truly giving the matter any thought, he set the lighter upon the bar and gently parted her hair from her temples, drawing it back. From each side he gathered a generous handful of locks, leaving that which flowed from the center untouched. Slowly, almost sensually, he began to tie the two together, leaving a precisely crafted bow. "It looks lovely on you."
Some might feel inadequate, yes, but Victor was always right, more so than he knew, to feel the urge to revel in her motions; it was simply another way to touch him, to maintain contact and reaffirm her knowledge of his body. More silent claiming, more subtle insinuations to how well he fit to her, and she to him. Like the feeling of inadequacy, some might find her actions overbearing.
"It looks lovely because your hands put it there, мой сладкий ангел."** Though she knew his system was broken that was a statement she knew he wouldn't need whispered to him any other way; she'd used it too many times. And she'd continue to do so, if only to watch the subtle reflections of pleasure weave into his features when she did. Leaning back into his ministrations, Anya turned her head when he was done, pressing her lips to his temple, and lingering.
His hands drifted then to frame her face, then downward to her shoulders, across the center of her chest, fingertips splaying out as they parted around her sides and he turned in his seat to fully face her. Victor's iron embrace wound slowly around her body and lifted as he drew her in, seeking to have her parked quite squarely on his lap. "It looks lovely because you wear it. Just as anything else, it is nothing without you.?
Though his words were sincere, and his tone nothing but what most foolish women would kill for to pour out of their silly romance novels, Anya couldn't help but chuckle softly. Shaking her head with a precise, slow rhythm, the siren let her voice drop down to that level she knew poured in all the right places for her seraph. It was husky, it bellied her watery heritage, and if had any more a lilt to it, she might as well have been singing against his skin, rather that keeping her lips a breadth away and murmuring. "My, my, my... What would I be without you to glitter me up with all this attention, my vischa?" She made sure to feel that word out for him every time she said it; infusing her own foreign tongue to his native word, if only so he could better understand how much she enjoyed his current, heavy state of accent.
It was for that spark it seemed to give her that he continued to speak, rather than use the link, even when they'd long since been left to their own devices. "You would be just what you are... a goddess... but nothing in the world will ever take your lover, your priest, your Vischa... your river. I would first tear down heaven and earth alike." Fingertips, and even slightly sharpened nails, then traced the length of her back, and the eye of flesh that sought her gaze was a mirror.
"Gods and goddesses alike are nothing without their worshippers to love them, and if I am what you say I am, then you know that means I would be nothing without you." The arc to his tracing was automatic, but it took her much to tilt her head back and let her lids sink as they wished to, to enjoy the sensation; she didn't want to leave his eye. Not because it was her own reflection she saw there, but because of the weight of his stare. She felt it on her as keenly as she did his nails down her back. Trilling one of those sweet, wordless, siren nothings down at him, she opened her eyes again and moved in for a kiss in the same moment her fingers moved up for fistfuls of his hair.
Victor met her halfway, his kiss deep and needing, the slightly sharpened teeth grazing against his and her tongues alike. Even sheltered from the swollen moon's light, the pieces of the siren within him were growing. ?Oh no, love. You are everything?. There was a desire he could not account for, a thirst he could not quite quench, and it was growing with every second, with every touch, with every taste of her, and there was a peculiar surge that struck particularly when his roaming fingers brushed across the ribbon he'd tied into her hair. Everything. The nails sharpened further, and dug into fabric, rending it from her back, although he was careful not to drive them into skin.
все...*** Had his fingers driven deeper than he'd meant, she wouldn't have paid it any more a mind than she did now, save, perhaps arc and rumble all the more. все, все ?****Something about this night drove her faster than normal, though that was how every night beneath the full moon had seemed since she'd met Victor. It was one thing to submit to one's true nature alone, but to find an equal, a companion... A mate, by any other name, to share it with. Well. Such things gained so much more meaning. Drowning in his taste, and rising to each touch, she ground into him as one hand devianted, crawling down and leaving pretty, red tracks to mark it's travels. Anya was sure to take what remained of his gentleness and raise the bar, as she always did. мой все.*****
A soft hiss escaped him, and in one swift motion Victor seized her by the thighs and set her upon the bar. He, of course, followed... but tonight his mind had spiraled into another world altogether. There was no submission in his movements; the usual urge to lie beneath her was lost completely. Instead he laid her down and settled his hips between her thighs, leaning down on one elbow as the other hand cast away what remained of her top and continued downward.
_____________________________________________
_____________________________________________
http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af255/fellea/RDI%20Thingys/ANYAEDITBlack_ribbon_by_shutterspeedy.jpg
Anya Translations:
*"Calm yourself, it is not the machines that make the man, my love."
**"My sweet angel."
***"always."
****"Always, always."
*****"Mine, always."
OOC Note: Adapted from live play. Many thanks to the player of Lord Travanix and Eiellani Rose, Victor's player and I couldn't have done this without you! :D]]
Thank you for that quick announcement, and please enjoy!))
_____________________________________________
_____________________________________________
The bulk of the night had already passed, and the off world seraph had spent every bit of it with his tall, siren spouse. They?d chosen a bar a bit more suited to Victor?s tastes for once, not only to change up the environment a bit, but to avoid the bulkier crowds; most folk in Rhydin ended up at the Red Dragon Inn, not the farther reaches beyond the city where the Stars End Bar was.
Anya had long ago abandoned the notion of choosing a seat anywhere other than Victor?s, so that is where she sat, watching as that final gasp of smoke drifted from his pipe, then the last embers faded. Victor?s soft fingers poked at Anya?s ribs, and the familiar smirk lit his face, although it was still a strange sight with the dead stare of his empty mana eye.
"I've at least made some f**king progress now... I have the sky again, but I am ...hesitant..." he stumbled over the word, "to take you with me until I know I will not crash into a tree." The translators were still down, and his voice carried the heavy, almost greek accent as he spoke.
A darkness came a creeping then, a chill in the air so mild at first, one would think that it came from the rush of the repulsers firing as ships landed and departed from the starport just outside the bar doors. But it doesn't fade, doesn't die or waver. Concentrated in its darkness, a life of its own as it pushes through the bar, filling the air slowly.
"Mm... Progress is progress, no matter how slow." Anya trilled quietly in response as those sharp, needle fine teeth spilt out in a smile. Moving to give his finger a flick, the siren chuckled as she shifted; a vision of fire amongst the seraph's serpentine coils of smoke. "Perhaps we should find you an eye patch and dress you as a sailor come Samhain when the children come lighting the gourds and seeking treats."
Fine, tiny hairs stood up on the back of the seraph's neck, and a glance to the console on his wrist was an automatic reflex. Of course, it too had been compromised, and the display was black. Victor only sighed, shaking his head irritably.
"Why would a sailor wear an eye patch?" The connection did not register, despite having been thoroughly acquainted with the sea through his shipping operations. Lore was still a weak spot after all this time.
A moment later, the door is pressed open, allowing a black uniformed figure to push through the doorway. His hand still on the door as he entered, holding the door open as the other hand moved to his back. Dark auburn eyes scan the bar. Something caught his attention tonight, something he'd been watching for a while. And now was the time to act. It wasn?t a moment later that his other hand pulled back from the door, retreating to his back to join the other, as he began to take steps towards the bar.
"Sometimes it's just a popularized image... I meant to make a joke, vischa, but I see that I did not make it good enough." There was that toothy smile again, but it faded quick enough, and those piranha sharp bits went back into hiding again behind the smooth, thin line of her lips. The sudden rush of cool didn't quite register with Anya, so she watched him shiver with open curiosity.
"Cold?" Sub ocean level temperatures could make one immune to a quick breeze or drop in warmth, after all.
Already his fingers were twining into his nischa?s hair, Anya's hair, and the one eye that still worked rarely left her. "No, something else. Probably exiar. I am still trying to reach some sort of ...exena... with my systems. The nano machines still work to adapt. Strange things happen."
Across the way, as the man sat down at the bar, he reached into a thigh pocket, pulling out a very simple black ribbon; a small length; no more than hundred millimeters. He stretched it out on the bar, before looking back over his shoulder.
The eye of flesh deviated for a brief moment, toward the man in black and the ribbon he'd set upon the bar. His thoughts were clear where his speech could not be, and with them he communed to Anya words he could not pronounce. What man carries such accoutrements? That looks like something I'd see in your hair on the theater's stage.
"Mm..." Her gaze too, was drawn by the sudden rise in activity about the bar. Strange figures indeed. Eyes bluer than blue and clearer than clear kept their weight moving from one to the other for a few moments longer than could be deemed polite, but rightfully so. They ended up over on the source of the chuckle, however; interesting. Every motion of hers was slow and sedate, as though she were some great predator that'd spent its afternoon dozing in the sun.
Victor's words brought her back from her slow assessment of the crowd, and right back to the chuckling gentleman, then further to the ribbon in his hand. He very well could be. His air fits that of those that would act as a patron to our establishment.
The man smirked a moment, turning and twisting the ribbon, tying it into a knot before turning the dark auburn eyes towards Victor. ?Good evening.? His voice was pleasant, polite - but hinting at something more dangerous.
Skurs, came his silent reply, accompanied with a chuckle of his own. Victor's contempt for the social elite Anya often entertained was one he wore on his sleeve, and the roots ran deep. No... that one looks... military. Look at the posture.
His head turned then, properly examining the man. Military indeed. "Can I help you?" There was an unspoken tone of this better be important, but Victor's patience with this one was greater than he carried with most who intruded on his time with Anyanka.
?Hardly, my good man.? He smiled politely, too. ?Simply making conversation in this establishment this evening.? He seems to hide the ribbon a moment under the palm of his hand and against the bar. ?Perhaps I could interest you in a drink this evening. In the effort to get to know you better. One must never forget those neighbors we haven't met yet?
A shadow, sleek and perfect, slipping though the doors. On the prowl for something, someone.
Just as like called to like, Anya found herself turning a keener eye towards the quiet man and the petite creature that skirted elegantly through the shadows. The man with his smooth voice and finely edged features, the blonde with her cool silence and deceiving eyes. A predator would always recognize a predator when they saw one, but the siren had little cause to mistrust the man, or the mysterious company moving about the bar, blonde or otherwise, so play nice she would.
He was courteous enough when he spoke, and Victor had actually taken the time to reply to him. She spoke up without invitation, bold as brass and twice as bright by appearance; at least the cayenne waterfall of her hair.
"Neighbors? Mmm... I cannot say I've seen you before." Her voice drawled slow and sweet; enough to make the ocean tide curl with envy and wish for a smoother lap when it rolled across the shore.
?No, I have recently returned to my home here after a very long off world business trip. One I am happy to say was very...very...lucrative.? He chuckled, and that polite smile as he turned his head towards the bartender. ?Your finest off world ale and 3 glasses. On my tab tonight.? Then back to the couple.
A wrinkle of irritation formed on his brow, although it was not directed at the man; it was quite firmly aimed at himself. It was obvious Victor was guarded, and uncomfortably so, without the utility he'd taken for granted. I have got to fix my f**king eye. A simple nod affirmed Anya's words - he'd certainly never met this man before. Then again, between home and work he spent little time in the community, and no seraph worth his wings turned down free beer.
"Ah. A trader then?" The wheels were turning in Victor?s head even as the words left his mouth. Perhaps a customer for the refinery?
"I have associates that trade my products off world, and they've had great results as well as of late. The markets are rising in nearly every sector in the seven sixties and seven seventies." He said.
The delicate blonde saw what she was looking for, saw his occupied state, and simply gave him a respectful bow and a brilliant smile, and turned her quicksilver gaze to her surroundings::
Lucrative indeed. Crooned her unspoken words as she slid her husband a slow, amused looking expression. Anya had her own wheels turning, though they were ones cultivated and pegged just right over years of experience. Unlike Victor, she relied on no tool save her own keen sense and intuition.
Arrogance touched her delicate features however; the type of arrogance one gained with an intimate knowledge of their own strength. The bow from the svelte blonde did not go unnoticed either, it was aimed in their general direction, after all, and given she'd not seen the woman's face before, she assumed it was for their unknown conversation companion.
Their company smiled darkly. ?All the more reason to celebrate!? The bottle was delivered as were three glasses. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw. ?We must drink to the successes of our allies, and the continued uprising of the markets!?
Victor's smirk returned, not blind at all to the shadow in that smile. Still, the man was judged quite quickly to be no threat, even with his systems in chaos.
"Hell, I'll drink to that. More so when my purifiers are fixed." The blonde and her gesture were, however, dismissed altogether. It was obvious Victor only had eyes for the woman who occupied the seat aside him, although at this point they were practically sharing a barstool.
?That is the sprit!? He popped off the lid of the ale, pouring a generous amount into the first glass and sending it to Victor.
?And for you, my lady? A drink in celebration?? He poised the neck of the bottle over the empty glass. Meanwhile, Eiellani found a place to sit, perching like a hawk on a branch, watchful and waiting while maintaining an air of grace.
"There's no harm in one, no." Though it wasn't her preferred drink, she had better manners to ask for anything other than what he was offering. Everything about her screamed quite the opposite of the man she was seated with; with, yes. She hadn't held her own seat for quite some time, Victor was as fine a one as any. Her stare was still ongoing though, as was it's assessing weight; she was open, forward, and elegantly unabashed. "And what might the name of our generous company be?"
The man nodded, his smile widening a bit. ?My manners seem to have slipped a bit tonight,? He began as he poured the ale for the lady.
?My name is Travanix.? Once full he pushed the glass towards her, the edges of that black ribbon poking out of his flattened hand upon the bar. He poured his own drink.
"Travanix." He seemed to taste the word, another of Anya's mannerisms that had taken hold as of late, although the most notable by far was the slight sharpening of his teeth as he did so. Another slightly frustrated wrinkle set to his brow, as he could not check the name against the central omnithal, or even his own terminal. Still, he kept his manners. "Victor Faeraar." The name he used now was not that with which he was born; he'd adopted Anyanka's from the moment they were bonded.
A token, or perhaps a lover's favor? Either way, short of a passing flick of her eyes towards that slip of ribbon, Anya paid the piece no mind. The name Travanix seemed to touch on some bit of her mind, but nothing of substance really came to mind. She'd heard the name though, yes. It was attached to some establishment of sort, but which? For the life of her she couldn't remember, which meant it was nothing impressive, important, or meeting her standards; below her attention.
"Anyanka Faeraar." She returned in that oddly lilted tone of hers. Like Victor, she had an accent, but it wasn't the same at all; hers sounded more suited to a life underwater. Reaching out, she accepted the glass, winding her fingers slowly, as if thought were put into each bend and crook.
He nodded in greetings. ?A pleasure Lord Victor, Lady Anyanka!? Raising his glass to them both. ?To fellow traders and merchants. May your trade routes never dim.? And downed the first glass of ale without hesitation.
A slight laugh followed as Victor raised the glass but hesitated before drinking. "No lord, just Victor. No title ever truly suited me, aside from Knight-Commander, but those days met their end." Then the glass hit his lips and was drained just as quickly as he and his wife?s company?s.
Sliding her free hand up the length of Victor's back in a lazy, proud fashion, she chuckled at his reply to Travanix. "?And though the stage might call me as such, I assure you sir, I am no lady."
One of those glass went to Anya?s lips, and like the lord who'd gifted it to her, she took a sip without any hesitation; poisons were paltry things, and of little concern for the siren. Normally her thoughts wouldn't be so guarded, but given her and Victor?s latest troubles, some of her more recently developed habits would die quite hard.
Travanix?s own glass settled back to the bar. ?Never, my friend Victor, let the old days die.? He winked a disturbing wink with those auburn eyes - it didn't seem natural. He refilled the glasses. ?Traders, merchants should always be treated with respect and honor! Regardless if you *think* you deserve the titles of Lord and Lady, any trader worth his weight in rare cargo will always show respect to his peers!? The bottle placed back on the bar, his free hand grasping that full glass once more. The hand covering the ribbon shifted slightly, but it never uncovered the ribbon.
"Rare cargo, hmm?" Obviously the wheels were turning once again. A potential customer was something he'd never turn away. "I deal in just that. Refined mithril, titanium, and alloy blends of the two in whatever capacity required. Enchanted and virtually indestructible, unless you've got a ...uvelishast... err... very high density, specialized tool."
Victor would feel his wife's hand running along his spine again, her touch extra mindful as her fingers rounded about those little hollows in his back where finer constructs hid. She made no apology for Victor's speech; his accent was obvious enough, as she was sure was her own exotic presence; though in the whole of Rhydin, just another rare flower amongst rare flowers. "He speaks from well set experience" She assured Travanix with that slow, liquid voice of hers.
The smile their company kept broadened. ?Now that is interesting. I happen to deal in equipment and manufacturing hardware! Truly, the stars are looking upon us tonight!? He took a half drink of his ale. ?Tell me, friend Victor - what kind of prices do you get for your shipments? A sizable one, 40 or 50 kilograms?? He leaned in a bit to make sure he didn't miss a word.
Ears turn to talk of business, ever attentive even at a distance.
"All depends on what you're after. Pure mithril is costly, titanium not so much. The alloy provides greater ...aithil ...strength than either alone at a ratio of fifty-six and seven ninths mithril, fourty-three and two ninths titanium. That is the weapons-grade product, and what is used in my own augments." With that Victor tapped the mithranium ball in his eye, but regretted it immediately, as he utterly despised that empty hole where his focus crystal and its housing had blown out.
?Weapons grade alloy is, of course, the best... and the best is most costly." His accent stalled in places as he wrangled with his words. It was in moments like this that the loss of the translator was practically crippling. "The rate in gold, as most use as currency here, is eleven to one in weight. Of course, we accept bank credits and even work in trades for ships and mining rights."
? I have a client that is building armor for vehicles. Will it bond easily to other metals? Not that I often trade in war, but the prices are sometimes too good to pass up.? Travanix nodded, listening.
Without a sound, the siren turned her head, and pulled her hand slowly away from Victor's back so she could lay it along his temple. One might see tri tipped ears if they watched the hair about her head. Yes, she had no problem in asserting her own importance over Travanix's presence. Possessive, loyal, and quite obviously the half that wore the pants between them, she crooned softly to him, seeing and sensing his agitation. "Успоко себя, это не машины, которые делают человек, мою любовь"*
To the untrained ear, one might think her words some aquatic sounding babble; soothing and saccharine to the senses, but foreign babble none the less. She turned and gave Travanix a look; the only form of apology he'd receive for her interruption.
His smile was truly infectious for that moment as she spoke, and for that moment he nearly forgot about Travanix altogether. Fingertips wound through her hair and the hand they were attached to was slowly crawling down her side to rest upon her hip. Still, the engineer inside would not be silenced. Once his attention swung back to what he now perceived as a potential customer, the wheels were turning again. "Absolutely. It bonds to nearly everything. We do, however, advise that it not be used in direct contact with ..." his teeth gritted for a moment as he fought to recall the names of the elements as he'd heard them spoken here. "Palladium and Thorium. The ...radiation... they emit can compromise the enchantments unless the plating used is at least ...sixteen millimeters... thick."
Travanix pulled out a pad and quickly jotted that note down. "I will communicate that with my potential client. Thank you for that information. I think I may find reason to visit you again. My understand is that they are building transports. Large ones for troops and supplies." He smirked, downing the rest of his ale.
Nodding, Victor returned the smirk as he drank along with the man. It was clear he did not seem to mind how the materiel was used, or was arrogant enough to believe that no harm could come to him or his own from its use. "My refinery is to the southwest, near the docks. It is a necessary location due to the amount of shipping we've taken on, and besides, the sheer density of the unrefined ore is difficult to transport far over land."
Travanix returned the nod, understanding the difficulties. ?I have had issues like that from time to time. On several worlds, I have had to build warehouses to store goods that would not make long distance transport a viable idea.? He settled the near empty glass to the bar. ?But, that is what we need to do, correct? Learn so our clients do not have to.? He chuckled.
Of course, Victor?s fingertips were still in motion, teasing at the small gap he'd created between the top and bottom of Anya's ensemble, tracing along a narrow path of skin at her waist. She always had his attention, even when the engineer had taken the wheel. "Precisely. The more efficient we are, the more generous they are." Victor grinned with the last. See? This one understands the workings of successful trade. Hopefully he does not become a competitor, as he could likely threaten my monopoly.
The thought was one of many, and soon he was internally plotting as he examined the man once more, seeking an assessment of some sort as to what level of technology he possessed, and whether or not Travanix could compete with his own products.
?Of course, I would never need anything like anything like what you have. I do not deal in minerals, only equipment, supplies and such.? Did he know? Did he hear? ?Minerals, mining itself, never interested me. I leave that to those who excel at it.? He gave a knowing nod towards Victor.
Unfortunately, the lack of his greatest tool, the eye, left him greatly lacking in the information he'd normally glean on first sight.
I have yet to see a threat to you in any aspect from this man, my vischa, save perhaps his smile. That was the devil in her, tempting his. The moons were full now, and with their bond so heavily woven, she knew just what strings to pluck so those gentle hands of his would find a firmer grip in them later, and on her. Keen, yet passive eyes poured then from her husband towards their unlikely companion. Travanix.
The name still teased the siren, if only due to his open, warm demeanor. Common as it was in this city, normally a man of his caliber had some sort of celebrity amongst the folk. She could tick names off in her head at the moment, dozens in fact. Why then was his name and face not among them? "Victor excels in many ways, sir, you've but tapped onto one."
"I started my refinery with that intent, but I found quickly that customers were more drawn to the alloys themselves than finished products. There are many, many equipment manufacturers on this world, but they all lack my homeworld's skill in metallurgy. My retail outlet is the smallest arm of my enterprise by far, and will likely remain that way." To Anya's comment, he could only shake his head and smile, and his cheeks even showed the slightest hint of red, although it did not last.
?My lady, I am sure his talents are...numbered amongst the stars?? Travanix replied as a dark smirk teased his lips. ?As I am sure do yours.? Looking back to Victor as he spoke. ?A man with a vision, you are.? He picked up the ribbon from the bar. ?Would you indulge an old man in an even older custom?? He picked up the bottle once more and shook it a bit, seeing only a few more drinks left.
?In remembrance of this bottle of fine ale.? He chuckled, as he pulled the ribbon from under his hand and wrapped it around the neck of the bottle. ?One more drink from this bottle that gave its life in our celebration!?
Slender shadow slid from her watchful perch, drifting to around the room idly.
Not a lady or lover's token then, perhaps a charm of his own choosing. The man held not handkerchief as some did, nor did he sport a merchant's peacock trappings. It would match his sleek, no nonsense presentation quite well, that little ribbon. Had her seraph not mentioned it earlier, she might not be keeping such idle, internal musing about it. Having long finished her own drink, Anya leaned forward just enough to take their company up on his offer. "Quite kind of you... both in compliment and your hospitality." She replied coolly.
Travanix began pouring the ale into his glass and offered some to the other two. ?It is easy to be complimentry when the company is so easy.? He replied with a devilish smile. ?My Lady.? He poured some into her glass and the rest into Victor's.
Tendrils of dark air moved through the bar, touching the exposed flesh of those in its path - stealing a moment of warmth - and perhaps something more dear, and leaving behind dread and rage for a briefest of seconds. A delicious shiver took hold of Eiellani as that chill brushes her, not breaking her idle stride though.
Old as she was, and aloof as she was, the siren was not without her susceptible bits and pieces. If there was a chill? It barely registered to the creature so entwined with the turbulent sea. Victor, as well, was too close for her to feel any lack of warmth. Like magnets given flesh, their heat, their power, their everything attracted and reflected into one another. Dipping her head to Travanix, she took another draw from her glass.
"I'd say I'm not the only one. You seem a man of quite the vision yourself." Victor smiled in earnest then, and took down the glass just as easily as the others. His eye of flesh studied the ribbon, and his conclusion mirrored Anya's own. The chill hardly registered with the warmth of so much ale without the aid of his purification subroutines, and, of course, the soft press of Anya's body as his arm wrapped a little further around her waist.
? Perhaps, Lord Victor, I could take a tour of your facility some time? I would enjoy seeing what you are capable of. Perhaps you and I could do some business down the road.? He put the glass to his lips, smiling once more before a drink slid down his throat. The glass moving from his lips and extending out...towards the floor?
It wasn?t a moment too late, nor too soon, that Eiellani?s wandering takes her to Travanix's side, where she took the glass with seamless grace.
"Absolutely. Any time during business hours, we welcome guests to the facility, and if you'd rather have a private tour that could be arranged as well. Of course, you'll understand if there are some aspects of our engineering that I cannot fully explain. The technology is from my home world, with some improvements I've made, and many of the terms do not exist in this language." He sighed with the last, as it was, for the most part, a lie. The truth was that he could not speak them.
?I am sure you we can make arrangements for me to see what ever it is you feel I should see.? Travanix smirked as the glass pulls from his fingertips. ?I have no doubt, we will both get what we need from our business transactions.?
Sensing Victor's discomfort again, Anya dropped her hand once more so all those tepid tips could weave back down along his spine; comforting, reassuring, pouring in all the unspoken she could. The blonde and her silky insertion into their midst was enough to make her eyebrows arc upwards, however, and enough to take the sharp, crystalline shine of her eyes and turn them back into assessment mode. New things to consider, more little quirks to observe.
The blonde in question made sure the glassware was cleaned away neatly, not a motion wasted in the woman's movements; clean, measured, and precise.
His eye followed that glass for a moment, to the woman who collected it, but Victor had observed in his time here that it was far from uncommon for the wealthy to have servants in their employ. A nod to Travanix followed, returning the smirk once again; it was practically a fixture upon his face and had only become more so in the cycle he'd spent on this world. "Of that I've no doubt. With the right products and the right market, I can virtually guarantee my customers a very generous return on their ...investment. Quality speaks for itself."
?Yes. I am sure that the quality of the product will be extensive.? He reached over to the bottle, pulling the ribbon off the bottle, and placed it gently, carefully on the bar top. ?A memento of our occasion.? He smiled darkly.
Quality does speak for itself, vischa. Riding on the full moon's high long before their day had even started, Anya found herself more and more hard pressed to pay this business talk any real attention. The man with them was odd, yes, but what was odd in a city who's bricks were built upon that very notion of oddity? The ribbon, the woman, the predator feel about the man; all trivial. The world was directly beneath her, and she let it know so by the slow, sensuous paths she continued to weave along his back. Watching Travanix with a lazy air, Anya slowly finished her drink, leaving the 'memento' to the men.
An engineer always studies first and asks questions later, and Victor was among the greatest of them. He immediately took up the ribbon between his fingers, and although he could not scan its composition, he was quite accustomed to the feel of silk; his Nischa's favorite material, woven into most of her clothes and even the sheets of her bed. In fact, he'd already imagined how it would look in the endless red of her hair.
"My thanks, Lord Travanix." He returned the title, finding it to suit the man quite well, or at least the way he carried himself. He seems to be an elimer of some stripe, although I still sense military bearing. Either way, this shall be quite profitable.
Lani maintained her perfect pose at her Lord's elbow, still and silent.
He nodded at Victor, auburn eyes moving from Victor to the Lady. ?I wish you both a good night. I will be in touch.? He smirked, his arms folding behind him as he began to slowly walk out. The cat did infact eat the canary, and then gobbled up the goldfish for desert.
The barest hint of a smile as Eiellani followed. ?In a curry sauce I imagine, My Lord.?
?Of course, my lovely pet.? Travanix chuckled as he moved to the door, the dark gaze moving over the others. His hand extended out towards Lani. She knew what he wanted. And indeed, just like that, it was removed from where it had been strapped to her thigh and handed over.
She barely watched the two go, save for that polite space of time where Anya made it a point to tip her head to the man and his little blonde piece of company. Still.. Odd. Odd indeed. That would be the word she tasted for a while, but not one she cared to continue tasting at the moment. Victor would feel her hands winding back around, seeking down his side, nearer his thighs, but not for the obvious, adult target; they deviated, sifting down into his pockets for that pipe and leaf pinch of his.
"Excellent. A pleasure meeting you, and I look forward to our business." A nod and a smile followed, then Victor's attention returned swiftly to Anyanka, although one could say it never truly strayed from her.
Odd, yes. But one who travels with servants even to a bar and carries himself as a liege lord is likely to have credits flowing from every direction. So, odd and ...quite profitable. Shifting slightly in his seat, Victor accommodated her searching hand and drew from his pocket a device he'd just acquired, one he never thought he'd actually need: a simple butane lighter.
Clucking her tongue softly, the siren shook her head as she watched the slight wilt in her lover's expression. It was there almost every time he found or felt himself inept due to the loss of his favorite toy.
"The night has your face in her favor it seems." She murmured quietly, her hands moving as his own might, being an extension, moving as a part of his, completing the ritual of it with him. Oddly, she'd become quite adept at this; finishing his motions, stealing his thunder, as it were. Though where most would feel inadequate or insulted, Victor positively reveled in the act, quite willing to relinquish himself to her will. Such had always been his nature with her.
"Perhaps she does... but your favor is the only one that matters to me." Still, he toyed with the ribbon in his hand, until the vision from before returned to his mind. Without truly giving the matter any thought, he set the lighter upon the bar and gently parted her hair from her temples, drawing it back. From each side he gathered a generous handful of locks, leaving that which flowed from the center untouched. Slowly, almost sensually, he began to tie the two together, leaving a precisely crafted bow. "It looks lovely on you."
Some might feel inadequate, yes, but Victor was always right, more so than he knew, to feel the urge to revel in her motions; it was simply another way to touch him, to maintain contact and reaffirm her knowledge of his body. More silent claiming, more subtle insinuations to how well he fit to her, and she to him. Like the feeling of inadequacy, some might find her actions overbearing.
"It looks lovely because your hands put it there, мой сладкий ангел."** Though she knew his system was broken that was a statement she knew he wouldn't need whispered to him any other way; she'd used it too many times. And she'd continue to do so, if only to watch the subtle reflections of pleasure weave into his features when she did. Leaning back into his ministrations, Anya turned her head when he was done, pressing her lips to his temple, and lingering.
His hands drifted then to frame her face, then downward to her shoulders, across the center of her chest, fingertips splaying out as they parted around her sides and he turned in his seat to fully face her. Victor's iron embrace wound slowly around her body and lifted as he drew her in, seeking to have her parked quite squarely on his lap. "It looks lovely because you wear it. Just as anything else, it is nothing without you.?
Though his words were sincere, and his tone nothing but what most foolish women would kill for to pour out of their silly romance novels, Anya couldn't help but chuckle softly. Shaking her head with a precise, slow rhythm, the siren let her voice drop down to that level she knew poured in all the right places for her seraph. It was husky, it bellied her watery heritage, and if had any more a lilt to it, she might as well have been singing against his skin, rather that keeping her lips a breadth away and murmuring. "My, my, my... What would I be without you to glitter me up with all this attention, my vischa?" She made sure to feel that word out for him every time she said it; infusing her own foreign tongue to his native word, if only so he could better understand how much she enjoyed his current, heavy state of accent.
It was for that spark it seemed to give her that he continued to speak, rather than use the link, even when they'd long since been left to their own devices. "You would be just what you are... a goddess... but nothing in the world will ever take your lover, your priest, your Vischa... your river. I would first tear down heaven and earth alike." Fingertips, and even slightly sharpened nails, then traced the length of her back, and the eye of flesh that sought her gaze was a mirror.
"Gods and goddesses alike are nothing without their worshippers to love them, and if I am what you say I am, then you know that means I would be nothing without you." The arc to his tracing was automatic, but it took her much to tilt her head back and let her lids sink as they wished to, to enjoy the sensation; she didn't want to leave his eye. Not because it was her own reflection she saw there, but because of the weight of his stare. She felt it on her as keenly as she did his nails down her back. Trilling one of those sweet, wordless, siren nothings down at him, she opened her eyes again and moved in for a kiss in the same moment her fingers moved up for fistfuls of his hair.
Victor met her halfway, his kiss deep and needing, the slightly sharpened teeth grazing against his and her tongues alike. Even sheltered from the swollen moon's light, the pieces of the siren within him were growing. ?Oh no, love. You are everything?. There was a desire he could not account for, a thirst he could not quite quench, and it was growing with every second, with every touch, with every taste of her, and there was a peculiar surge that struck particularly when his roaming fingers brushed across the ribbon he'd tied into her hair. Everything. The nails sharpened further, and dug into fabric, rending it from her back, although he was careful not to drive them into skin.
все...*** Had his fingers driven deeper than he'd meant, she wouldn't have paid it any more a mind than she did now, save, perhaps arc and rumble all the more. все, все ?****Something about this night drove her faster than normal, though that was how every night beneath the full moon had seemed since she'd met Victor. It was one thing to submit to one's true nature alone, but to find an equal, a companion... A mate, by any other name, to share it with. Well. Such things gained so much more meaning. Drowning in his taste, and rising to each touch, she ground into him as one hand devianted, crawling down and leaving pretty, red tracks to mark it's travels. Anya was sure to take what remained of his gentleness and raise the bar, as she always did. мой все.*****
A soft hiss escaped him, and in one swift motion Victor seized her by the thighs and set her upon the bar. He, of course, followed... but tonight his mind had spiraled into another world altogether. There was no submission in his movements; the usual urge to lie beneath her was lost completely. Instead he laid her down and settled his hips between her thighs, leaning down on one elbow as the other hand cast away what remained of her top and continued downward.
_____________________________________________
_____________________________________________
http://i1013.photobucket.com/albums/af255/fellea/RDI%20Thingys/ANYAEDITBlack_ribbon_by_shutterspeedy.jpg
Anya Translations:
*"Calm yourself, it is not the machines that make the man, my love."
**"My sweet angel."
***"always."
****"Always, always."
*****"Mine, always."
OOC Note: Adapted from live play. Many thanks to the player of Lord Travanix and Eiellani Rose, Victor's player and I couldn't have done this without you! :D]]