Flashback The Heart that Darkens

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Neyasi Tillandsia

_
Neyasi watched him from the corner of her eye. She frowned slightly at the mention of the cold trail. It was not as cold as he believed. She had her father's journal, and the map with what she assumed to be her father's planned route given to her by Vordinan, who was given it by Drovidin himself. But this was, in Neyasi's eyes, delicate information, information that she was reluctant to reveal at this point in time.

"I can only hope." She murmured, her sandaled feet thumping softly against the stone walkway alongside the canal in the middle of the space. The boy seemed truthful enough when speaking of the lack of Symenestra seen in his life. This, more or less, caused Neyasi to relax a little bit.

She stopped as he stopped, eyes scanning the Malt Shop. It wasn't any less than she'd been expecting. In fact, it was perhaps more than she'd been expecting. Neyasi glanced over at Venser. "I've been in worse places than this." She said, in a rather crude attempt at dry humor.

[Venser Rush]

Not privy to the information that the Symenestra was hiding, Venser was rather at a loss to what use it would be for the female to enter and subject herself to possible insults by drunken patronage within an extremely racist, corrupt city. Rhysol's guiding light was not one of racial tolerance and mutual understanding. Humans reigned in this lake-bound city, the race floating above the rest, as the structures did upon the wooden supports that kept the city afloat. The boy nodded in understanding as he listened to her murmur, not quite able to empathize with her attachment to her father, but there was a grudging respect for her devotion. Venser, perhaps at the bottom of his heart, wished that him and his father could have reconciled, that the way their relationship ended was not as grisly. Venser wished for solace from the nightmares that plagued him. A deep, pained sigh would escape him before he looked to the Symenestra, managing a grin at her attempt at humour "I'm sure. It's not a complete shykehole, is it? Venser would wink at the female before he continued on, "Anyway... our dear friend Grayson will be significantly more... agreeable after we purchase a drink. Especially to you. He'll likely not talk to you until you have a mug in hand." The young man was rather excited, though he'd not admit it aloud. He'd not been here since he was above age. Part of Venser wanted to know what the amber liquid that fascinated his father to such an extent tasted like. It must be divine... His thoughts brought a quiet laughter to his lips as he reached for the Symenestra's wrist, gently pulling her along, "This way, Neyasi. Grayson's right there, the tall, if rather perverse fellow on the other side of the bar." At this point, Venser knew that Grayson would hear him speak, dodging the man as he swatted at the boy, a false anger worn upon his expression, "Oi, Grayson. I'd be a bit nicer if I were you! I've brought you a customer.The bartender nodded before looking over at Neyasi, "Aye, ye did, lad. Good thing, too. Or I'd hang ye from your toes for talkin' to me like that." Venser managed a grin, though the bartender would not return the gesture as he scrutinized the new customer, his gaze lingering upon her claws and elongated arms for just a moment before he asked, "Alrigh' then, lass. What'll it be?"

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Neyasi Tillandsia

_
Neyasi blinked in surprise as Venser took hold of her wrist, and pulled her towards the bar, suddenly flustered. What was she expected to do? Her social skills were not necessarily competent. She slipped her wrist from his grasp, as they slowed to halt. She listened to the exchange of words with an upraised eyebrow. Did humans always talk to each other in this manner?

Neyasi turned her head slightly, realizing that the aged bartender was expecting an answer. Personally, she didn't desire any kind of spirits, however, remembering Venser's advice on achieving Grayson's full cooperative attention, she reluctantly ordered something small, and rather weak. "Ale, please." Alright, maybe not that weak, but it wasn't as if Neyasi actually planned on drinking it.

Grayson grunted, busying himself with the assorted bottle behind the counter, before setting a mug of ale on the worn wood in front of Neyasi. "Finest ale in Sunberth, lass." He boasted proudly. Neyasi picked up the mug, and took a small sip, pressing her lips together at the unusual taste. She set it down. "If you don't mind my asking, sir, but how many Symenestra have you ever gotten in this tavern?" She asked quietly, raising her ruby gaze to the weathered face of the bartender.

Grayson leaned against the counter, frowning slightly. "Well... Other than you, lassy, maybe two." He said, rubbing his chin. "Why?" He asked, suddenly curious, peering at her with a squinting gaze. Neyasi fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze. "I'm, ah... Looking for a friend." She mumbled, lowering her gaze to stare into the amber liquid.

"A friend, eh?" Grayson asked, snorting disbelievingly. It wasn't hard to believe he got this kind of thing all the time. He picked up a dirty mug, and started cleaning it with a cloth tucked into his belt. "Well, if ya' described yer friend, lassy, an old geezer like me migh' be able to remember somethin'." He said thoughtfully. Neyasi gave a slight smile. "He, uh, would have looked like me. Red eyes, dark hair. Tall, maybe... six feet, if I remember correctly. Long canines and nails. Fine garments. Mostly black. In his mid-forties." Neyasi said, giving a swift description of her father to the aged man.

Grayson looked thoughtful for a few moments, before shaking his head. "Sorry, lass. No one like that ever came here." He said, fixing her with an observant gaze once more. Neyasi's disappointment was swift and tight. "However, you migh' be able to find out more in one o' the fancier taverns." Grayson said, jerking his head towards the wealthier portion of the city.

Neyasi gave a slight smile, revealing her fangs. "Thank you, sir." She said. She dug into her knapsack, and pulled out four copper mizas, thumbing them down onto the counter, one by one. "For the ale." She said, rising to her feet.

[Venser Rush]

The young Flux Mage watched the Symenestra as she smiled, noting the fangs in her smile. Again, Venser considered the dangerous nature of the non-human female. A natural predator... It's no wonder why humans, the most intelligent of natural prey, are frightened of such a thing. Venser had no notion of inherent human superiority, though he did note that humans seemed to mass-produce at a much more efficient rate. Humans were obviously the better suited race to survival, even despite their physical deficiencies.Why haven't I seen another Symenestra, anyway? Shaking his mind of questions, Venser instead allowed his gaze to linger towards Grayson. Furrowed eyebrows, vague answers, and the lack of a smile until Venser looked up at him once again. Was the bartender telling the truth? Especially if he was referring to other taverns being nicer than his. It seemed like a compliment a tavern owner would be unwilling to grant to a rival business. By just staring at his face, there was no way of knowing, and raising the question was no way of allowing him or Verin especially, a future in the business. The twin had expressed an interest in it, already. Verin's devotion to Rhysol was the twin's niche here in Ravok, allowing him to mingle in a far more... normal manner. But, Venser cared little for normalcy. Perhaps Venser would, later on in the night, tell Verin of the meeting with the Symenestra, boast about how he saw a foreigner of another race altogether. Venser knew that Verin might not take the information qith quite as much excitement as Venser, considering that the twin had adopted Ravok's devotions and its prejudices, but it was something to share. Clearing his thoughts of his brother, Venser shifted his gaze to the Symenestra, mouthing to Grayson that he was only showing the girl around. "That's too bad, Neyasi. Would you like me to accompany you to a different place?" There were several others that Venser could name, all of them a ways away, but Ravok was not an overwhelmingly large city like Syliras, and the lesser population made it far, far easier to traverse. Yes, the Symenestra may be stared at on the way, but there was little chance of her being truly endangered so long as she kept a low (as low as she could, at least) profile.

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Neyasi Tillandsia

_
The Symenestra's eyes flitted towards Venser, watching his face as he watched Grayson's. Was it possible he sensed something she did not?

Indeed, it seemed he was. He did know the aged man far better than Neyasi did, and Neyasi was not yet such a quick and excellent judge of character. Neyasi turned her ruby gaze on Grayson for a few more moments, eyebrows knitting together in thought, causing the bartender to fidget, before gratefully sidling overto tend to a new patron as they walked in, and Neyasi turned her gaze away, allowing a soft sigh to escape her lips.

She glanced over at Venser, realizing he had offered to escort her elsewhere. Truthfully, Neyasi was not quite sure what to do next. Vordinan had not quite taught her exactly what to do. All they had ever discussed was how to get here. So all that Neyasi truly wanted to do at the moment was think. But it was noisy in the tavern, and Neyasi could already feel the headache coming on as a result.

It was during these moments that Neyasi truly missed spending time in the cool shadows at the loom of her previous home in Kalinor. The rhythmic whirring and thumping had been especially comforting during the year of worry in which her father had not returned from his trip. Her father had always said that Neyasi was a natural weaver, and Neyasi had always taken it to heart.

Neyasi jerked herself from her reverie, raising one hand to the bridge of her nose. "Do you know someplace... Quieter?" She asked, her gaze returning to Venser.

[Venser Rush]

A headache? So, the Symenestra was prone to similar annoyances and pains as the human sort. Little by little, the Symenestra was unraveling, revealing that the appearance of a beast, as others might call her, was not the mind of one. Sentient, driven, the female was, to say the least, intriguing. If for her devotion. Verin's likely not home yet. If she needs quiet, the house is still open. Should he? It had been a long day for Venser, the dark lines under his eyes were all the more present, his head abuzz with the fog of sleeplessness. Insomnia was truly a terror, a detriment to all that was sanity and self-assurance, driving one into a depression that raged within the body. Venser closed his eyes for a moment, his hands raising to press fingers to his temples. "Um... the Rush household should be vacant at the moment." Verin was on some sort of search, or an outing. Venser had asked his brother where he was going, but he was unable to pay attention. Darkness clutched at the young man's mind, pulling Venser deeper and deeper into its abyss. Venser did what he needed to in order to awake, Venser managing a pained grin as he snatched the glass from the Symenestra. He took two sips before turning to Grayson, reaching into his coat pocket as he did. Petch. My father did have a reason to drink, after all. Was that... ale? Ale, she'd said, right? I'll try something else. Venser's crystalline eyes met with Grayson's as he made his request, "A pitcher of wine, please." As Venser placed two silver mizas upon the table, Grayson arched his eyebrows in surprise, "Wine, lad? Are ye sure? Eh, yer old enough. Enjoy yer night, Venser." The bartender placed the pitcher upon the table before leaving the two be. Venser chuckled before opening the pitcher. He filled a nearby cup to the top with the wine, taking a sip. Interesting... Sweet, yet there was a bite to it, the wine was quite unlike the ale he had just ingested. "It's up to you."

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Neyasi turned to look at Venser, as he suggested his own home. She opened her mouth to answer, but paused, watching him. The dark bags under his eyes had before led her to think he'd not had a good night of sleep, but now Neyasi was beginning to wonder if his actions weren't of someone who'd lost more than one night of sleep.

She let go of the mug without complaint, watching him down two mouthfuls, before turning to order something stronger. Personally, she did not believe that ingesting alcohol was a particularly recommended way to keep one's self awake, but to each his own, and to the humans, their odd habits and digestive systems. Perhaps it was better to go to Venser's home. Surely, even if slightly intoxicated, it could not be good to wander the open streets with the urge to sleep on the brain.

"So long as your home is not too far away, I imagine it would be alright to accompany you there, Venser." Neyasi said, readjusting her cloak.

[Venser Rush]

The small amount of energy that ingesting the wine provided allowed Venser the stability to consider his actions. His brain both receded from the fog of sleep momentarily and was swept into the threshold of intoxication, albeit it mild. The wine called to him like a lover, pleading for lips to open and partake in its divine flavour. He was to obey, of course, the feeling that spread through his mind, a sort of sluggish giddiness, was one he enjoyed, particularly when compared to the sleeplessness. Anything was better than that. Filling his cup again, he quickly drained the thing, standing up as she agreed to his idea. When asked about the distance, he shook his head, a small, unnecessary laughter escaping his lips as they curled into a smile, "Oh, no! It's right down the way, Neyasi. I t-told you, this is the closest tavern." Venser's voice was louder than it had been earlier, raised unconsciously, though the pounding noise of the tavern was still overpowering it. He wanted out of here at once, and so he rose from the stool, lifting the pitcher to gauge how much was left in it. It was about half full. He decided to take the pitcher with him before taking hold of the Symenestra's hand again, weaving them both through the crowd and out of the tavern into the cold night. He'd return the pitcher to Grayson tomorrow, when he had slept... The pair weaved through the walkways of Ravok, turning just two corners and a straight path for less than three chimes before they arrived at the house. It was in the process of being moved out of, but Venser still slept here. Him and his brother were going to move to Tarsin's, seeing as the property owner, Venser's father, was deceased. They could take it over, but there was no point. Bad memories lived in this house with them.

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Neyasi frowned slightly, watching him down another glass. She had, sadly, seen the results of too much spirits in the gullet, especially of young men. It wasn't very pretty to look at, to say the least. As he spoke again, Neyasi winced at the increased volume of his voice. She was taken by surprise as Venser took her hand once more, and led her down the streets of Ravok.

As they slowed to a stop, Neyasi slipped her hand from his grip, raising her gaze to look the house over. She didn't think she would ever get over the curiousness of the shape of the surface-dwellers homes. They were closed, and angular, and the entrance was on the bottom. But, she'd gotten past it enough to not stare at the housing anymore. Instead, Neyasi turned her gaze on Venser once more.

"This is where you live?" She asked, eying the pitcher of wine in his hand.

[Venser Rush]

The brisk pace that Venser had taken to lead the Symenestra to his house did nothing to alleviate his condition. No, rather, the young man's head had begun to spin even faster, a laugh escaping his lips, paired afterwards with a sense of dizziness. Pushing the door open, he suspended it in place, so that it would not close in the girl's face as Venser hurried towards the dinner table in the center of the adjacent room. He was far too exhausted, drained by insomnia and driven to the edge of consciousness by the depressant that was alcohol. His mind had gone abuzz, thoughts fluttering about halfheartedly, plummeting as the next was conjured. Intoxication was like a dream to him, overcasting the nightmare of his waking bells. It was only when the girl followed him into the room that he nodded in answer, motioning to the room surrounding them as he says, "Yes, i-it... Is. Wel... come to my home." Venser rested his head on the table, muttering quietly to himself for several moments before he looked up, "Do you... er, enj-joy Ravok?" The question had sprung forth immaculately, curiosity visible in the intoxicated young man's vibrant, crystalline eyes. Tilting his head, Venser placed both hands on the table, drumming along the surface, a sense of anxiety in the action. It formed an uneven rhythm, Venser not quite paying attention to what he was doing.