Topic: Karmic Enema

Race Bannen

Date: 2013-02-07 12:25 EST
Steps are slow and plodding as he digs out keys to Flora?s Finery with a slight yawn. He really wanted to just stay at the apartment and finish off his Johnny Walker Red. But he had other things to get done...like inventory sheets. With practiced caution he pauses to look around the market as he unlocks the protective gating. Despite the chill, the Mogul wore an Hawaiian print shirt and Bermuda shorts with flip-flops. If he didn?t hear someone it was mostly likely due to the sheer volume of his shirt. Store unlocked, he reaches inside the door to turn on the front lights. One final look around at the near empty market Race makes his way inside feeling like he?s watched.

A lone magmatic eye watches from close by with a sneer at the stench of the Mogul. The stench of someone she hadn't smelt for a while. It was in passing, a lot of the time. She thought she had smelt it before - but no. No one was there, just the crowd and its endless stench. For a second, she found herself smiling... The teleportation to the front door of the Flora was within a blink, and it made little noise. She watched the loud-shirted one, too under-dressed for this time of year, reach into the shop to turn on the lights. Little noise is made to announce her presence behind him. She simply wiggled her gauntlet claws within the air, itching for a reason to run each of the ten blades through his back, and hide the body. Wasn't he dead? Or missing? Surely this has to be someone else.

The faint sensation of hairs rising from the back of his neck made him go still feeling a faint rustle of wind at his back. Unsure if it is the wind or something else he coughs and steps forward feigning obliviousness though he glanced at the windows hoping to use them like a mirror. Lips purse in thought as he considers what to do now that he?s been cast from the Corps.

As he stepped forward, so did she. But she did not stop with a single footstep. She took several and collided with Race's back, pushing him violently into his own shop. Her strength was supernatural, but she hardly made it like she could toss him across the room. It was just enough to make him stumble, maybe even take a single step forward. What she wanted was to close them into his own shop, as the shutter he opened slammed shut behind them.

Training took over as he felt the push. The Mogul? upper half went forward and down into a shoulder roll so he could twist and come up on his feet facing her. Eyes widen seeing Renna before narrowing as he remains in a balanced stance giving him the option to charge or flee depending on the next move. "Not even in town a week and you come to hit on me," he says in a thin lipped smile keeping his right hand back in a closed fist. His left hand rests out of sight by his stance.

Renna's eye glanced down at that fist of his. She was searching for that familiar glow. It went back to his face. She did not speak, which was odd for Renna. But she did hear him. Although, being deaf, it was a wonder how she managed to do that. It might of had something to do with the telepathic crystal she acquired from Arthour. Not that Race would know that, or her disadvantages. She smirks a touch, and glanced about the shop. The telepathic crystal forcing her words into his mind. I hoped you were dead. Seems I have been disappointed. However, it looks like I have a reason to...

She glanced to her left wrist, and pulled back her cardigans sleeve. The rose tattoo there was flickering between white rose petals, and blacker Thoughts. ~Seems like I am uncertain.~ She took a step forward, ~How nice to see you, Race. Not within a mind, of course.~

"Well you know I love to disappoint. Now I know you didn?t come here just to catch up on old times and fuck with me. What do you want?" Making her get to the point might not have been the best choice, but he met her eyes without fear, even held his normal confidence. The telepathy in close proximity was a new development, but with the likes of the Betrayer he wouldn't assume anything.

Renna stared at him, and moved to inspect his shop. ~To think we're so close! With the key in hand, I take it you own this place? Such an irony... Actually... I'll skip the playing around.~ She scowled at him. ~What I want? I don't know. Tell me what you can offer and I might not consider doing something you might regret.~

He thought over her words a couple times. She would do something he would regret? "How about you leave and I won't make a fool out of you like I have every other time we have fought. Or, you're still alive because I stopped Isuelt form ending your worthless existence. Or you have all ready violated my dreams, not much left to violate after that."

~Why did you stop her, Race?~? Renna smiled then, ~Why bring that up? If anything, I want Isuelt to end me. I want someone to stop me. But that has not happened, has it? People have tried to kill me. To imprison me. But that has not worked, has it, Race? So why bring that up? Why did you stop her?~

? She scoffed a laugh, and indicated Race. ~Please Race. You've battled with me. Do you see wounds upon my person that reflect that? No. You see wounds you don't recognize. What happened to my eye? Why won't I speak to you in my voice? Race, every time we have fought, you may think you make a fool out of me, but the fact is, I make a fool, out of you all. Your notions of defeating me, Race, are idiotic. I still stand. So why don't you attack me, Race. Make a fool of me. In the end, Race, I will still approach you, without a single scratch. Because you don't know HOW, to hurt me.~

She grinned at him. ~And your dreams... Oh how I would violate so much more, Race.~She looked at him with with a slow grinding of her hips while dragging her claw fingers across each other like sharpening knives. ~So. Let us end this battle of words and let us get to the real fun. For old times...~

"I don't really care Renna. You are a puppet who never sees her own strings." He remembered what happened the last time he uttered those words to her, hoping the reaction might be the same. Mean while his hand that remained out of sight slowly twisting a set of knuckles across his fingers, the metal an odd material with an opaque finish. He'd have one shot...because he couldn't afford to lose now. Not after she just raised the pucker factor by ten thousand.

Renna's lips curled. How dare he...Her lips then relaxed, and her eye narrowed. ~It is true. I am a puppet.~ She inclined her head to one side, and then lifted her claw towards him, ~I am strung up by my own fate. I have learnt this recently. I constantly come full circle. I cannot escape my own destiny. I am but a puppet to my desires, and to my own selfishness. I am weak, Imperfect, and I must learn from that.~ The offered claw curled then into a fist, ~Unless you are willing to free me, from my Master?~

"What benefit is there in that for me?" Not really a statement one would expect from the other so-called heroes of Rhydin. Given the circumstances however, Race could skew his moral tilt in the face of self-preservation.

~Why would you want to know that?~ Renna countered. ~What benefit could you gain?~

"Nothing in this universe comes without a price. Good or ill." He might be asking what her price would be for this aid. IN reality, the Mogul was stalling for time.

Race Bannen

Date: 2013-02-22 21:51 EST
"Nothing comes without its price. Correct." She found herself smiling, "But why? Why consider the price? I am surprised mostly at the fact you hadn't thrown me out of this... Shop." She glanced at the shop's decor, and smiled, "It is nice mind you." She mused. "My Master is strong. Blind. Stupid. But willing. I am my own Master, and I am... Willing, to work, with those who once considered me an enemy. Those who have bested me." She inclined her claws to her lips, and licked the deadly tips, "As much as I want to ruin you... Destroy you. I cannot."

She stepped towards him, now, "So why are you afraid of me? There is... Something different. Something wrong. Where's that usual arrogance? Why so... Defensive?"

"I know you like to talk." he said in even tones watching her lick those finger-blades. He knew all too well what they were capable of, and how sharp. He feels the cold metal against his hand, squeezing the sonic knuckles while meeting her gaze. Of all the luck, it had to be Renna that came across his path. Karma really wanted to make sure she got her fisting in, it would seem.

Her eyes idly glanced to the flexed knuckles, and then she relaxed. "I talk when I call the situation." She continued her steps to him, lifting a claw to cup his cheek, "Come now, Race. We've danced enough. Not as much as Brian Ravenlock, or even Isuelt. But. We danced a short tune. So..."

She glanced to his clenched hand. "I know you have a large ego. What is stopping you from throwing me out? I came here to settle a score, but now I am beginning to think the man I wanted to settle said score with, is no longer in the room. I wanted to offer my apologies, and your right at revenge, to supply my Penance... But it seems, we are lacking that man within the room, right now."

He steps closer to her then, the stench of whisky on his breath. "Renna, you couldn't handle my ego then. What makes you think you can handle it now?" His face is inches from her own. No fear in his features as he looks upon her with a steel resolve. "As to revenge. You have me mistaken for one of the other white flag waving...heroes" the word is scoffed with venom,

She wrinkled her nose. And smiled. "... I am beginning to think the same reason why I am not out on the street, on my ass." She inclined her face from Race, expressing an appearance of disgust.

"White flag heroes, huh?" She rolled her eyes. "You always did seem... Not quite on their page." She found her claw falling from his face, "What happened Race? That confidence. Those moments we played together - no fireworks, no... It's almost like you don't want to fight. Or... You
can't?" She eyed his sides. "Without aid it seems."

She wrinkled her nose. And smiled. "... I am beginning to think the same reason why I am not out on the street, on my ass." She inclined her face from Race, expressing an appearance of disgust. "White flag heroes, huh?" She rolled her eyes.

"You always did seem... Not quite on their page." She found her claw falling from his face, "What happened Race? That confidence. Those moments we played together - no fireworks, no... It's almost like you don't want to fight. Or... You can't?" She eyed his sides. "Without aid it seems."

"Go home, Renna. I'm drunk.." thats when he strikes. The miniature servos in the gauntlets clicking to life forming into adamant gauntlets where he strikes at her, feeling the palladium core in his palm fuel the coming sonic powered punch.

How many times as she dealt with this kind of shit? Really. The first thing she felt was punch to her face. She felt her head turn away, and then she felt an overwhelming pleasure erupt through her body. Blood trickled from her nose, and drooled around her lips, before it did the reverse. The blood flowed back up into her nose, and then. Well. She looked fine. She softly inclined her head to stare at him. She glanced aside, then back at him. "I take it that was a drunken rage?"

She smirked a little. "Quite the attack. Not what I expected... Drunk? Race. Seems like someone is holding back or someone is suddenly very weak."

Eyes widen as he takes the bait and rears back for another swing, his thumb twisting a small dial along his index finger, turning up the particle output. With a growl his fist crackles with reverberating sub-harmonics.

She snapped bladed fingers to grasp the same hand he attacked her with, in an attempt to restrain it within a cage of blades. She stared into his eyes. Almost confused. "I take that back. Seems like someone is weak. Strange."

Eyes narrow as she catches his fist, the gauntlet not getting the right impacting pressure to send off the harmonic surge. His next words are somewhere between a growl and a snarl. "Get out Renna...." His free hand comes up, palm wide to display the repulsor eye in the gauntlet flaring to life with an energy blast.

"No." She announced. She idly lifted her free gauntlet, and moved to press it to his chest, as a rather familiar - but not quite - down cycled whine animated from her palm. "Your weakness. I am sorry for it. It seems you are not the man I am looking for." She clenched fist, and the whine simply, died away. She released his hand, and took a step back. "I know how it is to feel weak, Race."

His shoulders slump when she fades. I know how it is to feel weak, Race. Teeth grind as the repulsor ray on his right hand winds up, blasts start shattering through the empty shop. Shelving crumbles to scrap metal. Bags of potting soil fill the empty space with the acrid scent of melted plastic and scorched earth. Screaming and blasting he fires blindly, seeing her face on damn near everything.

Issy

Date: 2013-02-26 15:04 EST
Isuelt squinted her eyes against the smoke and dirt dust of Race's Marketplace Flower Shop. The stench of burned plastic, however was the worst. A gloved hand in front of her mouth and nose as she made the trip from Batten Tower.

The racket that Race was making was so loud he probably didn't even hear the sound of Ranger's thrusters touching down outside. As it was he didn't need the enhanced sensors in his suit to hear it, and a moment later the black and silver armored figure strode into the shop, ducking an energy blast easily. "What the hell is going on here?"

"RACE? YOU IN HERE?" Isuelt waved a gloved hand in front of her, trying to clear some of the stench and dirt still flying around. "What the hell?"

The light show eventually dies down leaving Race standing alone in the center of the ruined shop, his blasts having made a small scale crater. More or less unharmed, water from a broken line has gathered up to his ankles. He hears them yell, but doesn't react. Heart hammers in his throat as a final yell rumbles from him, hands coming up to just scorch the crater deeper. The Scathachian's eyes were still shielded as she waded in further now that the blasts stopped. Now, amid the smoke and rubble was water. Oh joy. She looked to Ranger, now suddenly feeling naked without her blades.

Ranger stood there at the edge of the crater, the blank-faced helm focused on Race, and as the rubble and dust settled, he finally spoke again. "You about done?"

No answer from Race, though she saw him through the ruined shop. He was just standing there, then the yell... Then more destruction. She jumped back behind a pile of bagged soil, just to be out of the way. "RACE!" Her hands were over her ears, such was the racket he was making. As the sound died down, she emerged from her spot and ventured toward Race and Ranger. Her eyes on Race.

The Mogul visibly shakes from head to toe as he stands in a knee deep crater, water getting higher around him. Closing his eyes to breathe and slowly count down he turns to look at Ranger and Issy, even as he aims a palm behind him for one final, petty, rebellious blast. "Now. Yes."

A cant to Issy's head as Race released his last blast. The warrior looked to Ranger, wondering if he had any idea what this was about.

Ranger sighed, the sound unheard but the motion of his suit giving the expression away, as he shook his head. "Good. Now, you want to tell us why you're bent on destroying this place?" The helmed head turned this way and that, taking in the wreckage. "This seems a little excessive, even for a reaction to Renna." There was no comment from Isuelt on that, yet she did shoot Batten a glance.

"Man can't remodel?" Race grunts and steps out of the small pit, putting a hand on his right knee for leverage support. Slowly the gauntlets on his hands shift and retract into an unassuming pair of "brass" knuckles.

Isuelt looked around, and saw no Renna anywhere. "Remodeling, huh?" It seemed that the only danger to the shop was from Race. And as it was his place anyway, she really couldn't think of a reason that she and Ranger needed to stick around. "Ed? You got this?" A point to Race. "I'm coming back tomorrow to talk with you. This isn't healthy. Even if it is Renna inspired." This got Ranger another light smirk before she waved off a bit more of the dirt that had accumulated on her shoulders. She started for the door, wading through the sludge and mud that was accumulating on the floor.

The gauntlets were a new feature. Very slick, too. "This isn't a remodel, it's a demolition." He focused on Race, the computer-filtered voice betraying a hint of humor even as he turned to Issy and spoke. "I think we're good here. If he blasts me I'll blast him right back."

"Great, well while you guys have a pissing contest, I'll be starting my patrol." She couldn't help but smirk. She gave Ranger a wink and then looked to Race with a trace of worry on her features.

A deep scowl fills the Mogul's normally smiling features as he moves to brush by them both. "I'll clean this up in the morning....right now I need a drink..." grousing he waits long enough to motion for them to step out.

With no more that needed their attention, Ranger and Nails vacated the premises as well, going in separate directions.

Issy

Date: 2013-02-26 15:32 EST
Race grunts as the wide shovel scoops up more spilled potting soil. He did his best to separate the worthless plastic out of it all, but knew there would be pieces left behind. Dressed in work boots and jeans, his face is disheveled with the growth of a red beard from a week or three of not shaving.

The Scathachian had made a special trip outside of her usual route this afternoon. Leather-clad legs, as always, offered protection from the waning winter cold; a gray woolen cloak dripping from her shoulder fluttered behind her as she rounded a corner in the Marketplace and arrived at Race's shop. She paused at the door, watching him for a few moments before she lifted a gloved fist to gently knock. His movements are practiced, familiar, as he scoops up the soil and drops it into a large wheeled barrow. The Mogul was not unaccustomed to manual labor it would seem. The knock gets a glance, then a sigh, as he sees Issy and motions that she can come in.

Pushing through the door, the small bell rang out with a sweet twinkle. The sound caused a tenderness in her soft smile to him. "Hi," her voice was more compassionate than usual, quiet in its volume. Those dark eyes glanced around the shop, which was already looking much better than yesterday. Albeit, that was when it was still smoking and water was gushing like the dam had busted. "You okay?" She hadn't heard anything from Ranger, so she figured that he was. Well, at least not inflicting further damage on himself or his shop. Still, he had missed another of their usual get-togethers this morning for a run. Isuelt felt that she needed to check in on him herself.

"Hey.." the greeting resumed as he turns back and bends his knees to scoop and lift, resuming his work. By this point, the crater in the middle of the floor is close to being an indoor pool, and a murky one at that. A few more shovel scoops tops off the barrow. Her question about his okayness gets a grunt before he lifts the handles of the barrow and starts walking towards an open door at the back of the shop. "Still alive..." which might be the best answer she was going to get on that item of business.

She began to pull off her gloves as she walked further into the space. Tucking them into her belt she picked up a plant stand that had fallen over and started to right the pots on the ground around it. "Need some help?" The sympathetic tone of her voice denoted that she wasn't exactly talking about cleaning up the shop.

"My mess, I'll clean it up..." vanishing into the light at the back of the shop with barely a squint, he dumps the barrow onto a much larger pile of soil. The backside of the shop opening up into a fenced in greenhouse.

Her teeth momentarily took her bottom lip for ransom as she glanced around the shop. A small sigh before she looked back to the doorway Race disappeared through. "You know...that's kind of the nice thing about friends. They help each other with messes." She was following him back there.

"Not all.." he responds cryptically while shaking the last vestiges of dirt free. With a grunt he parks the barrow and looks to Issy with a frown. "Beating around the bush isn't your style Iz," he begins with an abbreviation of her name. "Ask what you came to..." Aggressive? Quite so, but he made no move as if angry, just a great deal irritated as he takes up a shovel and begins loading the dumped soil into a compost hopper.

"Okay," she licked her lips and took a stronger stance as she folded her arms over her chest. "When we got in there the other night, just what the hell happened between you and Renna?" And he was oh so very correct; Isuelt never really did see any point in tiptoeing around an issue. "And while I'm at it, what is going on with you? I'm not used to being stood up too many times in a row."

"She came to pick a fight. Guess since I didn't take her bait she played mind games and got under my skin. Something she hasn't been able to do before..." He scoops another heavy pile of soil into the hopper, seemingly to avoid her second question.

Mind games, picking fights, Renna getting under someone's skin? Incroyable! That never happened! "Yeah, she does that." Bitterly. The Scathachian unfolded her arms to cut a softer pose as she walked toward him, "Race...look, as long as I've known you, you've been snarky and facetious. At times, annoyingly so." A smirk to him as she dropped the tone of her voice, "But lately, your natural candor has been....well, missed."

"I'm annoying?" he looks at her with an arched brow before shaking off the shovel and scooping up more soil.

She couldn't help but smile at that. What followed next was a tone that rarely heard, her voice was softer and more compassionate than most would believe could come from her whiskey-stained, jaded mouth. "Race...I'm worried about you."

"Nothing to worry about Issy." he replies and just keeps focusing on his task at hand. "I'm a big boy, put the toilette seat up then down and everything. Even tie my shoes and say a prayer before bed each night."

"Yeah, and apparently you shot the crap out of your own damned property, too!" A bit more sting in her tone now. "Ranger and I thought that there was a f*cking war in here when we came in the other day."

"Who asked you to come and try to play cavalry? When have I ever needed back up?" His own words had a bite to them as he shoots her a stern glare.

"Never, okay! You never need back up! But Diana informed us that there was an altercation between you and Renna, so we came as quickly as we could. Oh...I don't know...it's sort of what friends do!" Her volume was rising.

Sticking the shovel in the soil he stops and looks at her, coming to stand barely toe to toe with the Scathachian. "And had it been anyone other than Renna? Did you come because of me...or her?" A definite edge laced his words with that question.

Defiantly raising her chin to look down her nose at Race. Her tongue clicked against her back teeth. "How about both?" Those sculpted arms once more crossed over her chest. "I go where I'm needed. To defend or to battle. Or bail your backend out!"

"Apparently you haven't been keeping score." shaking his head, the Mogul takes back up his shovel and scoops another heavy turning, the metal edge scraping the cobbles gratingly.

She watched him for a time, finding herself more and more agitated by the simple chore he was performing. A deep breath was taken...and held for ten seconds like Kai told her to. Then carefully she exhaled, "You think you bail me out? That I don't pull my weight?"

"Issy..." his tone softening a little. "Since we have met, how many times have I stopped you from crossing that line...?" he lets out a tired breath as his weight shifts to dump the shovel. The t-shirt about him clings from sweat against his muscled back and shoulders. A rich man who isn't afraid to do manual labor, rare thing this is.

She was thinking about crossing a line just now and throttling him soundly. Her arms unfolded and her hands found a perch on her hips. "Don't make this about me, Race. Look, I get it. You had a bad day or a week or whatever. Believe me, I understand. You don't want to unload, no problem. I just thought that... It's sometimes a gift to be able to unshelf problems." After all, she had done it that night before she had arrived at Race and Renna's squabble.

"Bad week.." he snorts in derision before up righting the shovel again and taking his own ten count. "Look Issy. What I'm going through...you, Ed, Katt...the others, can't fix or make better. I'm not going to drag you into something none of you can actually help me with."

She understood something about that. She backed off of Race, taking a few steps backwards as she sat down on an empty shelf that once held an array of pots. "You sure?"

"Pretty sure..." he mumbles. "Unless you know how to restore someone' honor..." Scooping the last of the dumped soil he bangs the shovel against the hopper, thing was almost full by now. And he still had a lot of dirt left to clean up.

With her forearms resting on her lap, her thumb lazily traced along the scars in the inside of her wrist. She watched the pad of her thumb trip over the raised skin which had seen itself to become an unsightly seam. Quietly, "Don't know anything about that really." Though his comment struck a cord with her personally, as soon as the comprehension of his words rattled her from her selfish thoughts, she looked up to him.

"Worry not upon troubles gone by, when on hand you have hops and rye. Drink hearty my sons and daughters...never mind the rising waters..." he states gently with a ragged breath and takes a flask from his back pocket to unstopper its cap.

Jeez, was he speaking to her soul or what? "Drown your troubles and go swimming in your sorrows, your grief shall bear you up..." Volley. Her lashes tiredly blinked, then her gaze looked to him. "If you do ever need to talk, Race..." she shrugged and smiled.

"Never you mind, the rising waters..." he repeats with a pull from the flask and wipes his lips with a sharp, short, cough. He looks to her then and that smile as his hand offers the flask. "You know. In another world, if you weren't monogamously celibate, and I wasn't in a relationship, I might almost brave the sword and ask you for a one night stand..."

She chuckled. "Oh really?" But what was most suprising about that statment? "You're in a relationship? With who?"

"Been seeing Raye Ibaraki since she was in a wheel-chair last year." he shrugs, having naturally assumed it was known.

"You are?" She thought for a moment, and it did sound familiar. She smiled, "Well, I hope you talk to her about your troubles." A tired smile lingered for a moment on her lips. Since Issy wasn't taking a drink he took one for her, using the gesture as a means to keep his mouth occupied from talking for the moment. The Scathachian glanced down. She'd had to cut back on her drinking after the business in Old Temple. Only a few times had she slipped lately. Though she watched Race carefully, wishing she had less self control right now.

Race stoppers the flask and leans his shovel against the building, hoisting the barrow to go back into the shop. He emerges a second later and drops next to her on her little stoop.

A deep sigh from the priestess as she looked to him. "Gonna stop standing me up?" She smirked.

"Eventually..." it was as honest an answer as she was going to get.

Her dark head nodded at that. She did appreciate the honesty, "Fair enough, my friend." She ran her hand through her hair and looked around the shop for a few moments before she nearly burst out laughing. As it was, she managed to reign in that laughter so that it began as a chuckle. "You really did a number on this place." She was looking at the hole in the floor.

"Figure at some point I'll miss watching you run ahead of me..." he started to say before she busted up laughing. At that he could only shrug. "I may be small, but I pack a punch you know..." gently nudging her side with his elbow.

Still laughing, she looked to him with an arched brow. "Hey, you said you were in a relationship, why are you trying to sell yourself to me?" What's this? Humor from Isuelt, Our Lady of Perpetual Agitation? Huh.

His turn to smirk. "Because I know I can sell all I want. You won't buy."

A wide grin as she turned her face from Race back to his shop. "True. I am the safe choice, no?"

"I wouldn't say safe..." he replies with a shake of his head.

"Oh what are you talking about? I'm a kitty cat!" She elbowed him right back.

"And you sharpen your claws and teeth with militaristic precision...." offers a slow nod of his head before that flask comes back out.

A low chuckle, "Maybe that's why I can't ever get a date." She was only half kidding.

"I just assumed you and that Daniel kid were keeping something on the sly..." shrugs just to tease her. "You strike me as a discrete lover, not one to flaunt her conquests and jiggly bits."

There was an arch to her brow as she looked slyly at Race. "Now you see? This is how rumors begin." Smile. "Though thanks for the discrete thing. I'd like to fancy I can keep my trap shut. And whether or not I keep my thighs shut is my business. Not the Gossip Gang Star's." Yes, she had seen the latest issue.

"They are great thighs though..." shrugs and takes a drink.

"Yeah, I know." She looked down to the leather-clad stems and grinned. Wow, a sense of humor seemed to be the new accessory!

Race even reaches to give one of those thighs a light pat and squeeze. "Ya could sit on a man' face, and end up squeezin his head off like a grape..."

"You know, I've done that before." She looked at him, resting her chin on her shoulder.

"I'd believe." takes a stronger pull from the flask, once more offering her some.

A self-satisfied smirk. Then a look of longing as she peeked at that flask. Weighing the pros and cons got boring after a while. Hell yes, she would have some. She reached her fingers for it, "Thanks."

Lets her take the flask with a nod. "You're welcome."

She drank a deep sip and let her lashes meet as her head tipped back and savored. After a few moments of silence between them, the sound of her voice was purposely kept low as it grated past her teeth. "You sure you're okay, doll?" After all, she figured that they had shared enough information, private and otherwise, between the two of them that confession wouldn't feel so cumbersome. Of course, that was rich coming from a secret keeper who shoved her past into the closet with both hands.

"No." he says taking more of a lean against her. "But I have enough bottles to make it feel like I am..."

It was almost like talking to herself. She empathized completely with him. "Just be careful. I used to joke with Grem about wanting to slow kill myself with alcohol poisoning because it was more fun and more socially acceptable..." She smirked lightly of the memory of that beyond witty conversation, then straightened. "You keep things locked inside and they'll eventually eat their way out, leaving marks that won't go away." And with that, she lightly laid her arm across his lap, interior view facing up. She was without gloves and without sleeves. "I know you've asked before." There where several jagged scars running up her forearm and two clean, straight seams where her skin had obviously been sewn back together.

Gently he runs his fingers along her inner forearm, the touch so light it might as well be a kiss from a ghost. It's his ring hand that brushes her arm as he retracts his fingers though something would look out of place where that hand matters.

Her brow flinched at the touch. She felt nearly naked without her long dueling gloves. It took her a moment, but she noted the absence of the ring. That damned ring had gotten in the way on a few occasions when they had been training or sparring. And the absence now nearly screamed in her ear. Things were starting to make sense, yet she found a million more questions she wanted to ask. It was like the first time he'd seen her scars, she looked at him now with that same mixture of pity and compassion as he had done when looked at her on that day.

The look is seen, but his own face is a mask now as the Mogul takes his hand and gets to his feet. "Need to finish cleaning up. I know Renna will be back soon enough..."

"Yeah," slowly, she withdrew her arm from his fingers. She had her guesses and her questions, but they could wait until Race was able to share. After all, hadn't he shown her the same courtesy? She lightly put her hand on his shoulder and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "You know where to find me if you need help." There was no way she was just talking about the shop.

"Careful...I might take the offer..." he smiled a bit at the kiss. He knew that wasn't something Illea did often. "Or take it as an invite to flirt more..." shrugs a little as he reverts to his defense through humor.

"Thanks for the warning," chuckling, she stood up and stretched her back. That little shelf wasn't the most comfortable, but it had more than served its purpose. "You take care of yourself, huh Race?" She dipped that espresso hued head to him.

Just like the man who has a response to everything he just smiles. "If I don't, who will?"

The Scathachian took her gloves from their tucked position on her belt and began to put them back on. She smirked at him and winked as she began to move toward the door. Watching her walk away...the Mogul couldn't help himself and let out a cat-call. He knew she'd make him pay for it later, but for right now? He could enjoy watching those leather clad hips. As she pulled on the door, that sweet twinkle of a bell let out and she shook her head, laughing. A silent hand lifted over her head to serve as her wave goodbye.