I Think This Time She is Drunk...(open)

[Ulric]

Ulric nearly flinched as the slender fingers rose, edging away. He was glad when she seemed to reconsider. Heaving a regretful sigh, he kept staring deep into her strange, mismatched eyes, daring her to speak further. That she did, but not as he would’ve liked. “Fela, what are you playing at?” he growled, hand lashing out, grasping her behind the neck. “Never say those things. There are chains that bind and chains that destroy. That is what you do not understand. Though you may wish to drown in your grief, you must rise from the ashes, throw off your mantle of cinders, embrace your fate.” Before he could think, his face was drawing nearer to hers, drawn to the pale skin, the flecks of gold in her darker eye. He felt a shiver ran down his spine, and then he was mashing his lips against hers, roughly crushing her to his body. He tasted the tang of blood on his lips. What am I doing? Breaking away, he found himself frowning, mind confused and reeling. The scent of stale wine was tinged with her musk. She was so forlorn, so bereft of purpose. How could he have done that to her? “That was a mistake,” he murmured, brushing rough fingers across his cheek. This could never be, not even if he wished it more dearly than anything, for he was sworn to his task. He glanced at her brusquely, hand sliding to the knife at his hip, seeking solace in its solidity. “Do not speak of this again,” he spoke lowly. “Though you may think yourself troubled, you don’t want to know what might happen if you are caught in my embrace.”

[Fela Meason]

Day 72 of Summer, 511 AV As soon as the words left Fela's lips she saw Ulric's hand lash out and wrap around her neck. Her entire body tensed with the surprise of the action mixed with a strange combination of fear and anticipation. What is going through his head? Fela pondered to herself. She soon found out in an out pour of angry words. She could not comprehend how easily he told her to simply cast off her chains. She was bound in a way much deeper than any human could ever understand, her one need and one purpose had been taken away from her because of her own stupid actions. She raised her eyes to meet his, about to open her mouth and tell him as such, when she realized his eyes were much closer than before. Drowning dark pools that filled her vision. That spark of madness still shining in those eyes. Fela had no time to think before she felt herself crushed against his body. Heat radiated from her lips down to the base of her spine. Her eyes fluttered shut and all thought seemed to stop at that moment. One slender hand slowly rose into the air to grip his arm firmly and hold herself steady. The sharp pang of pain brought her crashing back into reality has he cut her lip with his forcefulness and set her mind back straight. Why had he done that? He had made it very apparent from the moment he had met her that he found her to be little more than an annoyance. Confused thoughts raced in her mind but were cut off by his voice, cracked and strained she could hear him speaking clearly through the fog and hung onto his every last word. Seeking understanding. That was a mistake. He paused, eyes glazed over in thought. Though you may think yourself troubled, you don’t want to know what might happen if you are caught in my embrace. Fela puffed her check out in indignation and struggled till she was loose from the invisible bonds that held her suspended in the air. Finally freeing her and dumping her on her knees in the street she cast angry eyes at Ulric. Mistake? Her voice was even and steady and devoid of all emotion. You play with my feelings, my body, so freely and then just label it as a mistake. Her tone was rising higher with each word. I'm sorry i'm such an inconvenience for you, something that can be so easily cast aside. Her words were cut off by a strangled sound low in her throat. Fela did not understand why she was getting so upset. She hardly knew the man standing in front of her, his thoughts did not matter to her in the least...or should not have. She had been alone for so long with no one to force her to reflect on herself or offer her one bit of honest solace. She raised one hand off the ground slowly and brushed them against her bruised lips softly. If I am such a mistake then feel free to leave me back where you found me...alone and pitiful. The last two words a slight whisper, her tone held a note of bitterness in it. Even as she said the words she longed to be touched again, to feel comfort once more.

[Ulric]

Ulric wasn’t certain what to say, so he just regarded her for a moment, frowning. He was troubled by her sharp, bitter tongue, the pervading depths of sorrow. He’d strode across the spine of the world and back, fought his way past dozens of foes, yet when faced by a crying woman, he could never find the right words to say. What am I supposed to do? He scowled, wringing his hands. Give her a pat on the head? Say everything is going to be okay? Because it’s probably not. There was something incredibly frustrating about never knowing what to do. That was probably why he’d always found solace with whores. They didn’t give a shyke about you, just the jingle of silver in your purse. And their faces if you started beating them.

Now there was a thought.

Ulric couldn’t deny that he wanted to smash this sad, drunken woman in the face, to drown her tears under a spurt of crimson, but deep down, he also wanted to crush her to his chest, to tear at her skirts and… No, you aren’t going to do that, he growled. Why does everything have to be so vicious? He just kept standing there like a statue, brows furrowed with concern and confusion, the muscles under one eye twitching slightly, as if a spider was crawling over his cheek. Fela did have a point, though. He did consider people as things to be callously used and discarded for the sake of his whims, yet he’d always longed for more. That was probably why Mhera had sought the warmth of another man’s embrace. The memory of her face just swirled the bitter ashes in his heart, made his hands clench into tight fists, teeth biting down on his tongue as if agony could scourge the wound of her betrayal from his aching heart. As far as he could recall, there’d been nobody at his side. He’d been alone against the world, and judging by the fading scars on his body, by the grimace on his face, he was slowly losing that fight.

Sucking in a deep breath, he exhaled sharply, felt a rising of power in his chest. Your whole life you have spurned the world, came the whisper, so why not embrace it at last? Why not? There was so much potential, but it was so hard to set aside a lifetime haunted by strife, defined by brutality and bitter loss. Ulric glanced away, down at the filthy ground. There were fragments of pottery, the nearly translucent sliver of a fishbone, years of enduring muck, held together by straw, shreds of cloth, and sundered dreams. And there was a tiny, shockingly green seedling snaking up from the rift of two stones, a promise of new life.

If only it wasn’t trodden under a cruel heel.

Ulric looked at Fela, his face twisting with doubt. He could wrap his arms around her, halt her sobs with soft caresses, rescue her from her torment. Or he could flee her side, as he always did. She meant nothing to him, just a sack of meat with lungs, but that didn’t mean her life was devoid of meaning. That didn’t meant she would not be mourned. Heaving a sigh, he reaching for her wrist, jerking her back. He opened his mouth, found that he had nothing so say, and then closed it again. He nervously licked his lips, tried to speak, but made only a strangled noise.

And then he got angry.

The words that spewed from his mouth were vastly different from what he’d intended to say. “Oh, shut up, you sniveling fool,” he snarled, holding her against his chest, thankful that he didn’t have to stare into her eyes.

Because if she did, she’d know that he was scared.

[Aural]

Player: Fela XP: Socialization +3, Seduction +2 Lores: Graceful Drunk, Captivated by Sadness, F-E-L-A: Say it, Don't Spray it, More Than a Sack of Meat with Lungs, Hung by the Threads of a Broken Bond Other: -10 gm for the wine and a bad hangover the next day...really bad. Player: Ulric XP: Socialization +3, Seduction +2, Intimidation +2 Lores: Enraptured by the Sawed Sounds of Flesh, Blood Drenched Violence: Expert, Emotions are a Burden I Won't Carry, Whores Don't Cry Real Tears Additional Notes: I'm guest grading for Fallacy. Wow. Just wow. One minute I was laughing hysterically, the next minute, I was shocked and kind of grossed out. I LOVED IT. If there's any XP or lores you think I missed please PM me! Player: Linalyn Lores: Lucky I Looked the Other Way [/frame2]