PM to join Waiting for Go-Arysana-dot

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 20th of Summer 514AV, Noon
Sundial Circle


Syna was blazing high above again, having taken her place as ruler of the heavens, the Golden Queen of the Blue Sky. Her rays were warm and bright, a radiant corona that was so beautiful that it hurt to stare at. A crown so pompous and fancy, one she wore with pride, obviously. Her light cast dark shadows behind the objects and creatures that bathed in her light, dark spaces of coolness that were more than welcome to hide in, away from the blazing beams of pure brightness. They could also be used to read the time of day, or so it was said, but Brandon did not get it at all.

Sure, this giant triangle also cast a shadow, which moved when the sun did, but to be able to tell how late it was by just looking at a shadow… the bat didn’t quite understand. Not that he wanted to, that wasn’t really knowledge he wanted to possess, nor was it useful. He had his own biological clock which was pretty accurate, so there was absolutely no need for shadow-triangle-sun-circle stuff. What shadows were good for was to avoid the burning heat of the sun, not to measure time.

Not that there was a need to seek shelter in the dark coolness of the shade, here in Lhavit, the celestial city perched atop of a glorious mountain was cool enough by itself, Winter was pretty harsh, Summer was cool, though the former wasn’t really comfortable, the latter definitely was. Nice and cool, a summer breeze passing through every now and then, idyllic scenery… perfect, indeed, Lhavit was perfect. Unless it was Winter, but in Summer... Ah, rain wasn’t so nice either, for one or other reason when it rained here, it rained a lot. Never mind that though, rain was good for a change, too much good weather was tiring too.

Standing near the gnomon of the circle, Brandon waited, arms crossed over his chest, boots planted firm on the brickwork beneath him, eyes staring in the distance, darting from left to right, from far off to close by and the other way around, carefully scanning the area for a coppery haired girl that called herself Sana. About a season and seventeen days ago, the two of them had made a bet, and even though Brandon had, due to the circumstances, lost his interest later on, he had remembered the time and place they had agreed on and had come. Now that his leg had healed, the cast had been removed and he’d been able to use it without problems for a season, he had seen no problems in coming over and partaking in the challenge anyway. The only problem was Sana herself.

Whether she’d just forgotten or had become scared at the prospect of losing and being publicly humiliated –for that was the price of losing- she did not show. At first, the bat had thought he’d erred and had come to the Sundial Circle on the wrong day, but it was the twentieth of Summer, he was right. And the time was correct as well, though, it was already fifteen chimes or so later than noon, so if she’d still come, she’d be late, terribly late. And he wouldn’t refuse to tell her, he certainly wouldn’t. If she’d show, but she didn’t. As chimes passed, the Kelvic grew more and more annoyed, bored and decided to sit down on one of the benches that were placed along the edges of the small square conveniently.

More than a bell had passed, noon was already over, that damn girl certainly had had second thoughts about this bet, probably realized she couldn’t win, no matter how arrogant she’d been before and had decided against coming today. Well, he couldn’t blame her, if he’d have no chances of winning, he wouldn’t come either … well, he wouldn’t have challenged a person who was far superior to him in the first place. But if he did, would he come? Probably. To have fun, to see how much he needed to improve his skills to catch up to his opponent. Obviously, that was not the mindset of Sana, no, the prospect of public humiliation had scared her off, no doubt. Hm. Running away from a challenge she’d proposed herself, how disgraceful. Oh well, that just meant he’d won by default, that she’d forfeited this match.

Still, there was a chance she’d turn up, claiming to have forgotten about it and apologizing for being late. Maybe. Hopefully. Then he’d get to have some fun after all, this waiting wouldn’t have been for naught. Okay, it was settled then, he’d wait another bell, but if she wasn’t here yet by then, she’d lose by default, and lose face as well. But hey, that was entirely up to her.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

[Raien Ironarm Pitrius]

Raien strolled somewhat casually into the small, but most certainly distinct circle. Emerald-flaked blue eyes washing over the exotic scenery. The Sundial Circle, ever since he’d come to Lhavit, it had been the one spot in the city, the one spot near other people, that actually provided him with a sense of calm. It made him want to curl up with a book, to let the sundial’s shadow turn the day away, until Syna tarried on the edges of the sky, perhaps if the moonlight permitted , even longer.

Though there was no book tucked beneath his arm this day, mostly because he didn’t exactly own a book. A luxury he could hardly afford, an informational and worthwhile one, but a luxury nonetheless. “Tis’ lucky for me indeed.” Raien began to muse, as he starred around the circle. Taking in every inch of its beauty and comfort, eyes moving slowly but surely. “That some luxuries are free.”

His love for it aside, Raien found the premise behind such a place somewhat laudable. Why would one so pressed for time, as to want to know it with certainty, stop whatever he’s doing simply to skip along here, wasting more time than he obviously has. Still, it was an attraction Raien knew, one for the people and not the tourists, not that Lhavit got many tourists anyway, well really not many tourist managed to get to Lhavit.

Raien never stopped his careful, but loving examination of the area, as he mussed over it’s practicality. He was turning his eyes and head slowly and it had been months, so it was no surprise that it took Raien some time to notice the eerily familiar man, the man starring with a look almost as interested as his own, straight into the gnomon of the dial.

It took but a moment for Raien to place him once he realized he’d actually knew him, and hadn’t just seen him around the city, albeit a long moment. It was hard to forget someone you met down a dark alley after all, even harder when they had sent you sprawling to the ground. As he looked upon the man Raien felt his hand instinctually drift to the large and burly blade sheathed across his hip. “No.” He thought somewhat grudgingly, allowing his hand to slump almost unnaturally to the side. “It’s been months, no one’s going to care about one drunkard getting robbed… Besides we’re in the middle of public, there’s children and woman about.”

Still, seemingly chivalrous reasoning aside. Raien found that he couldn’t shake some small bit of resentment towards the thief. He’d spit in his face(literally), and humiliated him, albeit it humiliation in the shadows of the alleys and not in public.

However, Raien did his best to suppress this lingering anger as his legs began on their way, carrying him over to the Kelvic. He’d have words with this man Raien realized he’d decided as his legs moved almost subconsciously, if only because a part of him, the prideful part, was still sore when it came to his failure to subdue the thief. But also he understood as he began to bridge the gap, because he found that as he looked at the man, that he felt a certain curiosity, curiosity born from wishing to know just who, just what, could best him.

Boots halting as he walked the few feet between him, and his point of interest. Stopping to stand right beside the man, but not uncomfortably so, and not too close. Raien starred into the sundial. Deciding that he’d try and seem like the previous encounter didn’t bother him, like he was completely calm, whether that was even remotely true or not.

And so, still not breaking his gaze into the dial, Raien spoke, partially feigned confidence filling his voice. “You know, this is the last place I’d expect to see you.” As he finished the words, but not before, Raien turned his head up to look straight at the other man, a somewhat self-impressed smile on his face. “The easily robbed drunks don’t usually wander out this far after all. And the only shadow's not worth hiding behind.” His words were minced, stuttered slightly, and overall there were slightly too many pauses in-between each word. Common was obviously not his native tongue. Still, it got the job done, and he was used to not being able to speak perfectly in the language, while it did still bother him at times, this was not one of them. Too concerned with the coincidence of the day, to think of his own accent and speech patterns was he.

[Brandon Blackwing]

The bell that Brandon had decided to wait was over soon, the Blackwing had no real memory of it passing, probably because he had fallen asleep during the first five chimes of his practice of patience. He couldn’t be blamed though, the sun’s warmth and the cool breeze were very effective measures to lull him to sleep, not to mention that his biorhythm still kept nagging that he ought to be sleeping during the day. The bench he was seated on was rather comfortable, despite its look of hardness, and before he had noticed, he had drifted off into the realm of dreams.

Some sort of poking woke him, still half asleep the bat grunted and was terribly annoyed with whatever it was that refused him this period of rest. The poking did not stop, however, it just continued on his other cheek. Getting a bit frustrated, Brandon snored loudly, grumpily but to no avail. Muttering some half understandable insults at the assaulter of his face, the Kelvic managed to make it stop, and he smacked his lips contently, swallowing a gulp of saliva that had gathered in his mouth. Unfortunately, his ordeal wasn’t over yet, something covered his half-opened mouth, no air could enter through it anymore. An internal shrug and the thief switched to breathing through his nose, but that didn’t work either, something was pinching it shut, he couldn’t breathe!

Panic tore the veil of slumber to shreds in an instant, the bat’s eyes shot open wide and wild, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His breath returned as the things that had blocked it dissipated, kohl-black orbs registered a young boy backing away, giggling naughtily. Brandon shot him a killing gaze, a cold hard stare that should be more than sufficient to freeze the kid to the bone. A tall woman stepped in and quickly grabbed the boys hand, pulling him away with the words “Come, Shiro.” She didn’t even apologize to the thief, just dragging her child away, to the other side of the plaza.

She probably thought they were out of hearing range, scolding her son for what he had done, Brandon however could hear them loud and clear. “You shouldn’t bother homeless people like that, and certainly not touch them! Who knows where he’s been? He probably has lice and fleas, you could catch a disease!” What? Homeless, lice, fleas? Him? Brandon’s face twisted into an angry snarl, “I am not homeless, Gods damnit! And the one transmitting diseases is you!” He was ignored, though the bat knew he had shouted loud enough for that woman to hear. Grumpily, he stood up and walked a few steps forward, crossed his arms over his chest once again. Homeless, pheh! Irritated, he stared at the gnomon, the shadow had moved a bit, sliding to another position. He concluded that some time had passed, though he did not know how much, not by watching the shadows. His inner clock told him that it was about one bell later than last time he’d been standing, Sana was still not here. He sighed, she wouldn’t come after all… Or maybe he should give her some more time? Hm… perhaps.

In the end he kept waiting, chimes passed and Brandon spent them by staring at the gnomon and thinking about all kinds of things, random stuff like that he had to buy some bread before going home, as philosophical nonsense that had absolutely no relevance whatsoever to the current situation. Then, out of the blue, a voice sounded from his side, stating that this was the last place they’d expected to find someone. That someone did not care to answer, but after several chimes of silence, the bat realized the man was addressing him. A sharp turn of his head and he studied the guy briefly; a bit shorter than himself, blue eyes and brown hair. Muscular as well, slightly tan skin, large sword at his hip. Brandon couldn’t really remember anyone he’d met with such features, but this man had obviously seen him before, probably talked to him too? “Do I know you? Have we –by any chance- met before?” he asked hesitantly.

The man continued with a statement about shadows and easily robbed drunkards. His speech was not what one could call fluent, however, it wasn’t like the bat couldn’t understand him. True, he had some difficulty gasping what exactly the man had said, only to realize a tick later, but there were no major issues. The man was not used to speak common, that was certain. What bothered Brandon more was the fact that this man seemingly knew he was a thief, that he robbed drunk people now and then. And that while he couldn’t recall the man at all! It was quite annoying really, too many people had guessed or figured he was a thief correctly, which was not really something he liked. Maybe he really should do something about his methods and conspicuousness… He had been found out and recognized too easily. Well, at least the Shinya hadn’t yet, but that was to be expected from that bunch of fools. “Who are you?”

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

[Raien Ironarm Pitrius]

Raien gave the man a telling look, one eyebrow raised. "Who are you?" Was he serous? Then again he wasn’t exactly acting too coherent. And it had taken him much longer to reply than expected. For a moment Raien wondered if he had been mistaken. No, that just wasn't possible, it had been dark yes, but the man had gotten close, too close in fact, and Raien trusted his night vision, it was far superior to that that of a normal human, tempered in the darkness of Sultros, and bolstered further by his Pitrius blood. It was definitely the same man, Raien affirmed himself, even the clothes were the same, or at least very similar.

His speech wasn't slurred, slow maybe? Was the man who preyed on the intoxicated a drunkard himself? Raien pondered the possibility for a moment. No, it wasn’t that either, he didn't smell like spirits, maybe a little residual stench, but it permeated the air around him, it didn't come out with his breath. It came from his clothes probably. Maybe this man drank; maybe he just hung around drunks often (Raien assumed he did). But he certainly wasn't intoxicated right now...

"What do you assault people often? Should I fall to the ground feigni-" Raien paused for a moment, what was that word again? "Fei-" Dammit he couldn't even sound somewhat intelligent in this language. Fine he'd downgrade his vocabulary for conversations sake. "F-aking agony? Maybe I should find someone to spit in my face." Raien still held his eyebrow aloft, looking for some sign of recognition. He spoke like a petching foreigner, how could this man not remember his accent? Raien didn't recall seeing too many Isur here, and ever fewer of Sultrosian origin. Of course he hadn't done too much talking that night. Mostly just cussing, maybe a little pain-permeated gasping, and of course an anger-filled cry of disgust or two. But still....

"If it takes you this long... Maybe I should rethink consulting the Shinya, you obviously have a lot of victims to sift through..." He decided to add on, a self-satisfied smirk on his face, he'd remembered the word "sift", sure it wasn't all that relevant, hardly useful at all, but it made him feel better, more confident in his speech. He might learn common yet.

[Brandon Blackwing]

Brandon’s query was met with astonishment and surprise, the man seemed not to have expected a hazy memory, or perhaps he had fancied himself special enough to be etched into everyone’s memory. Everyone he had ever met their memory that is. Either way, with so little a clue, the bat had no chance of remembering at all. Besides, there were countless people in Lhavit that had caught him stealing –pickpocketing mostly- every now and then, if he had to go and recall the face of every last one of them…. An impossible task. He could name three; Julius, Sal and Chari. But those had been special. The first was a thief himself, one that had made a very interesting proposal, though he hadn’t heard from him since that fateful day. The second had become his employer for a certain job, one that had been very stressful, but interesting and challenging –in short: fun. And last but not least, there was the dog that had chased him over the rooftops in a mad race when she’d found out her wallet was gone. Somehow they had become friends later on… strange girl.

The man that seemingly was trying to become one of those ‘special three’ appeared to be a bit annoyed with Brandon’s lack of recollection and chose to give him a large hint, though his struggle with the word ‘feigning’ postponed that for a couple of ticks. Fall to the ground, agony… spit in face …. Yesssss, yesss…. It was coming back to him! A scene unfolded in his mind’s eye, a dark, small alleyway… a drunkard lied unconsciously on the ground, ignorant of his floor-kissing companion, who was writhing in agony. Yes! Yes! That was this guy, indeed! “Ah!” breathed the bat, suddenly aware of the identity of this stranger. “I don’t mind spitting you in the face again, if that’s what you want.” He grinned, throwing the half-baked half-serious comment -or insult- in the smaller man's face instead of saliva.

“A lot, huh?” the bat mused upon the words of his companion, “That depends on how you look at it, what is a lot to you?” It wasn’t really a question, “I am sorry about not remembering you by the way,” he continued, his words making it clear he wasn’t sorry at all, “last time I saw you, you were too busy searching for your lost face down on the ground that I couldn’t really get a good look at it. ” Another grin, a rather mean one this time, unlike the other three who'd caught the bat, this one wasn't really liked by Brandon. This would-be hero...no, the thief wasn't fond of him. “Not to mention that I did not think you were capable of speech, after all, I have only heard some primal grunts and cries from you… you sure you are him?” He chuckled briefly, one hand concealing his mouth.

Maybe he was not being nice, not at all actually, but Brandon did not really care, he liked to get on certain people’s nerves, especially so when they came to annoy him first. Of course he had long realized that some people were really short tempered and would lash out at the slightest taunt, but the risk made it attractive and besides, he had brought this man to his knees before, he was sure he could win a fight with him again should one break out. And else he could still run, scale some walls, hide, you name it. That was plan B though and was only –just like plan A- to be used when his companion turned hostile. What really worried him though was the fact that the man had a large sword dangling on his hip… and even though the bat had daggers, he wasn’t sure if those would be of use… oh well, if the man would draw his sword, he just had to be quicker and disarm him before he even had the chance to arm himself… if that made sense.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

[Raien Ironarm Pitrius]

Raien sighed at the bats obvious dismissal. Not knowing why he had been all but insulted, and never realizing his supposed "arrogance" was being thrown in his face. Still, if the man was trying to to anger him, he was hitting all the wrong points.. Maybe a little aggravation, perhaps if he had made his opinion of the battle mage's "arrogance" more clear. But reminding him of a scene that he'd already replayed in his own mind countless times? One that he'd had months to reflect on, and move past, hell there wasn't that much to move past really, he'd be bested countless times before, albeit a rarer occurrence these days it wasn't anything new.

Still, this man's, what was it? Confidence? He seemed entirely unfazed by Raien, granted he had sent him sprawling previously, but that was due to a sneak attack, a sleight of hand at best. Most people who saw him, would be at least a little unnerved by the giant sword at his waist at best, previous encounter or not.

And while there was a nagging feeling of being underestimated.. There was more curiosity than any anger in Raien's mind. Not everyone fought with a giant sword after all, was it really "cheating" to do what the man had done? He'd probably even seen it as necessary. And had he himself not brutally struck his own opponent before? What was the difference? Was there one? And if so was it simply because he hit under the belt? Why did "honor" supposedly forbade such tactics, was it really even honor, or was it people, particularly those who regularly faced men not afraid to do such things? He couldn't be sure, he didn't know. And he doubted the man would be all that interested with sharing his opinions on the matter, still sometimes people surprised him, you never got anything out of a conversation you'd avoided after all.

So, after letting loose the last bit of the sigh, Raien ran his hand over his face quickly, still obviously addressing the man, not quite dismissing him, but "showing" he wasn't that unnerved by his words. "Perhaps I am, maybe I'm not. Maybe it'd even be best not to claim the events of that night at all..." The Half-Isur replied, letting his hand slip "harmlessly" down to his side, still dangerously close to the large sword, but seemingly not realizing it was there. As he squinted his eyes, choosing his next words carefully, making sure they'd come out... Well coherently, before continuing his accented rant.

"After all you don't exactly look like one who'd feel all that bad about damaging my reputation..." Rain punctuated the statement further by waving it away with his right hand.

"Still, that hardly matters, at least do me the courtesy of telling me who sent me... "Searching for my lost face", if that is how you put it?" Raien tried to make it sound like more of a statement and less of a question, still he wasn't all that sure his voice reflected his intent. Not all that sure at all.

Would this man who'd so easily, and seemingly without thought mocked him? Be willing to do him any "courtesies", why should he? Perhaps he wouldn't have anything better to do... He was starring at a sundial after all. What busy person did that?

[Brandon Blackwing]

OOCSince Isurs are supposed to be left-handed and their colored arm is their left, I am assuming it’s the same with Raien, though if not, please pm me and I’ll fix my post

The man sighed at his words, a bit annoyed with Brandon’s attitude perhaps, but not really fazed by the attempts of the bat to bring the memories of that night back to the surface. It seemed this guy was quite thick-skinned, or maybe Brandon just wasn’t that good at taunting. Either way, the short muscular guy did not seem irritated by the words themselves, of course, it had all happened seasons ago, so he’d had time enough to reflect upon it, to feel bad about the outcome and to work away the frustration of being unable to stop a thief. It appeared he had succeeded in those tasks, which was all the better for Bran, a frustrated man would have called the Shinya, brooding on some plan of revenge. Someone like himself actually… heh….

A black hand rubbed the toned skin of the man’s face before falling back down to the side, Brandon’s eyes fixated on them all the while. As such he did notice the proximity of the hilt of the - what was it called again?- Bastard sword at his hip. Dangerously close, the thief reacted by sticking the hands of his crossed arms under his cloak, each near three daggers they could grab, should it come to it. Of course, while the bat’s companion might suspect he was hiding something underneath his cloak, he could not see it, and suspicions were just that, suspicions, and did not necessarily have to be real. Though, the reason for Bran’s eyes to gaze at the hand of the man before him was not because of the sword, but because the thief’s observant eyes found the color unsuited for that limb.

The reason why is quite simple really: the rest of the man’s visible body, his other hand and face, were not black. That was not all, the black was not just any black, it was a shiny black, more like a gemstone shaped like a hand than one of flesh and blood. The Kelvic realized he had seen an arm like that before, an arm that had fascinated him, an arm that could resist fire and mundane harm –if he recalled correctly. However, there was a slight difference between this guy and the Isur he’d met before… never mind the color, the arm still had some skin-ish look instead of a genuine gemstone-like one. In fact, it seemed less dense, less metallic somehow… while it did appeared to be made of metal… the bat couldn’t really figure it out, but there was something different about it, it seemed fake in comparison of the one of the Isur. Yet, this man reminded him of that race, his stature and his musculature, but his skin tone was strange, more tan, like a Benshira.

The fake-Isur kept speaking, ranting about reputations and waved his statement away with his other hand, his left still near his sword. “Oh? You had a reputation to uphold? My utmost apologies, oh hero, I, the fool I was, did not realize!” he joked, continuing his assault on the man’s nerves with a smile. “But since you do not find that it matters, I take it you forgive me? You have the eternal gratitude of Djas, oh Hero! Please do me the honor of telling what people call you,” he even managed to throw in a small bow of mockery, and could not help but to grin nonstop.

“Also,” the bat spoke, normally this time, “clarify this, why is it that you have an arm that looks like the one the Isur have, while you have the skin of the Benshira?” Today, the bat did not really feel like acting like a fool, instead he chose to give the man a notion of his observant eyes, be it out of arrogance or just as a warning of sorts.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

[Raien Ironarm Pitrius]

OOCNo you're correct, Raien's black arm is on the lefthand side. Similarly he is also left-handed

Raien noted silently that the man had all but ignored his question... Saying nothing about who he was, or what he was for that matter. Of course the Half-Isur had no doubt, that the somewhat-rude man was possessed of nothing other than human ancestry. He was a particularly spindly representation of his race, Raien noted, but a human nonetheless. He knew what the thief was, something that couldn't be said in reverse.

Comparably he was also already aware he was a cutpurse, or at least that he moonlighted as one. Indeed, perhaps his questions wasn't all that necessary anyway, he most certainly knew more about the dark-haired man than he knew about him. It was possible that the man's neglect to answer the question wasn't exactly all that rude either after all. Indeed, it was quite possible, Raien realized with a shock. It could be he that was the rude one. Not deigning to introduce himself, but demanding the man do him the favor, all the while he knew who the man was, as vague an idea as it was.

Raien shook his head, realizing the gesture may very well confuse the thief, but hardly caring. It was a movement for himself, the man shouldn't be concerned with it anyway.

He was being ridiculous again, he concluded, he hated being rude, but he also hated obsessing over avoiding the act. Besides the man didn't seem to care about it himself, at least his actions didn't hint to the level of obsession Raien held. So... why shouldn't he simply talk freely? Thinking it made him feel better, but even Raien knew, with him that ig would be easier thought than done...

Still, newfound resolution fresh in mind, he decided to ignore the man's own ignoral entirely. Figuring, along with all his other thoughts, that it'd be best to simply answer the man's question. And hope he would would consequently return the favor. Of course, he couldn't help but return a slight bit of sarcasm as well. He was "only" human after all.

"You know, generally only woman tell me I'm their hero so feverishly. And even that's usually in a more... private environment." Of course, he was also talking entirely out of his ass. Still, he was only human. Besides his joke, funny or not, allowed him to crack a small, much-reliving smirk.

"As for the arm and skin..." Whatever semblance of amusement present on the young Half-Isur's face before, quickly faded as he spoke the next few words.

In all honesty, he detested thinking about, even looking at the imperfect arm, let alone talking about it. It wasn't so much that it was dreadfully mortal, he already had another untinted arm that was just as fleshy that didn't bother him in the least. No, it was the fact that it was colored, albeit only somewhat, it was the fact that it didn't have the raised silver veins of his people. It was the fact that it was so close, but so far from being the divine link most Isur had. It was borderline blasphemy... And he hated it.

"It's not that complicated really. I'm part both, Benshira and Isur that is. But I'm sure you can tell, I'm far removed from the former...." The "Fake-Isur" remained ominously silent for the next few moments. Before, as he saw a way to move away from the topic, his face, tone, and demeanor lightened somewhat.

"Still, I'm not interested in myself.... So, once again I ask, who are you good thief?" His words were stiff but slightly more casual, as his mind slowly fell into the mindset of speaking common.

[Brandon Blackwing]

The man with the black hand guarded his silence, keeping quiet after witnessing the ‘show’ Brandon had put up, probably trying to figure out what kind of witty response he could give. The bat was on to the thought process of this man, he wasn’t that hard to figure out. The funny thing was that while both of them were obviously trying to annoy each other to no end, they both failed miserably and had transformed this meeting into some battle of wits between rivals. The wannabe-hero and the thief, provoking each other with words and witty remarks, building an unsteady tower of mocking and half-baked insults, with grins as cement and a dislike of each other as foundation. Brandon foresaw that the tower would collapse eventually, one of the taunts hitting the spot. When that would be, he couldn’t and did not know.

Oh? That was a nice comeback actually, only women huh? However, that was quite an opening the man’s attack had given him, a wild swing with an axe that left enough room for a dagger to slip though. The thief’s mouth curled up at the corners, his teeth baring in a shark-ish grin. “I suspect you pay them handsomely for doing you that ‘favor’?” Another grin, companioned by sparkles in the bat’s dark eyes. Surely now that satisfied smirk had been wiped from the smaller man’s face, Brandon could do this all day, this reminded him of bickering with his mother actually, an event both of them had enjoyed quite a bit, though neither of them had ever tried to insult each other. Then again, this was an entirely different situation. Even though he found it to be quite entertaining, Brandon hoped Sana would arrive soon so he could walk away with the excuse of a having challenge to complete. Not that he actually believed she would still show her face, and if she did it would probably the same color as her hair, the red of shame tainting her pale cheeks.

Then, the black-armed man started to explain the curious case of his descend, claiming to be a half-blood. That explained a lot, and the bat wanted to smack himself in the face, he should have seen that one coming, it was quite obvious now he thought about it. The small telltale signs of frustration did not escape the bat’s onyx orbs, a slight narrowing of the man’s eyes, a minimal downwards curl of his mouth’s corners, a small dipping of his eyebrows… A face that depicted disgust, and the words that held a bit of bitterness… heh, this guy was full of openings, cracks in his armor. With the right questions he could detect them, and with the correct remarks he could abuse them, use it to break the shell, the wall that kept the man calm. If he could manage, things would get interesting, standing and sitting for bells while doing close to nothing was boring and the Kelvic was fed up with it.

First though, the half Benshira, half Isur man asked for an introduction, something that mildly confused Brandon, since he had already done that. Though, he hadn’t done so very explicitly, so he could understand the question. However, if the man assumed the bat was stupid enough to give him his true name, he was sorely mistaken. “You may call me Djas, but I do wonder who is asking?” he made a shallow bow once again “I am not that interesting though, not nearly as interesting as you are…” stated Brandon, pushing the topic back to the man before him, or attempting to anyway.

“Half Benshira and half Isur you said? So, you are of mixed blood then?” the Kelvic thief spoke, unmistakably forcing the conversation back to the topic of the fake Isur’s heritage, “Must be tough, having an arm that looks almost like the gift of Izurdin, but is but a counterfeit. I take it that it is as normal as your other arm? That’s a pity, think of what great things one could do with a true Isur arm…” The Blackwing beamed the man an innocent smile, “Must be very disappointing, I can imagine how frustrating it must be for one to look almost like the real thing, but prove to be completely inadequate.” He shook his head in feigned pity.


OOCI hope that did the trick, Raien is surprisingly thick-skinned

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

[Raien Ironarm Pitrius]

Raien watched as the man's mouth curled up into a grin. And for a fleeting moment, wondered if it might indeed be possible, that he'd broken through the obvious air of disdain the thief wielded against him. But he thought this only for a moment...

No, he was just as pointlessly spiteful as before, Raien realized listening with a narrowing of his eyes, as the bat began to speak in reply once more. The same crystalline eyes grew wide in surprise for a moment as his verbal advisory completely derailed his previous remark, his teeth grinding against themselves. Anger and confusion suddenly becaming all too evident on his naturally tan face for a fleeting moment, as the Halfbreed Battlemage grasped helplessly for some retort and to his despair found none.

It wasn't so much that the man had a laugh at his expense, no he was only returning the favor. It was the fact that what he'd said should've been so dreadfully obvious, but instead came as such a surprise that it really and truly irked him, it was this, that really got under his skin. His mind was his most prized tool, and he'd just been outsmarted.

Still, he could handle it, he decided, his Sultrosian patience and resolve even now showing through the cloud of anger and bitter thoughts. No one else was around, and surely despite his own previous words, the thief wouldn't spread the knowledge of his inadequacy? No, of course he wouldn't, it would hardly be a story to tell anyway, the smug man had only gotten one over on him after all....

Indeed, not much of a story. He should never have allowed himself to get that worked up over something so small, Raien concluded, as despite his thoughts his rows of teeth still pressed and ground firmly upon each other.

Though, anger aside. He was just about to try and lift the mood up a few notches, as much for himself as for this "Djas". When, his half-listening and only half-aware ears picked on the bile, the bat was now carelessly spitting.

His words began innocently enough, simply confirming what Raien had already told him only moments prior. Which although genuinely somewhat aggravating, was hardly a crime. It was only when he went on to mock him incessantly that his shoddily reconstructed calm once again began to crumble.

Raien's hand reached almost institutionally to the hilt of his blade as a rage-permeated cloud washed over him, but before his instincts alone could spur him to draw, his strengthening grip was halted by a sudden thought. Was this really worth it? Did it really warrant this?

"Petch yes!" And with that thought, the very same black arm the man had mocked went flying almost aimlessly, clinched dreadfully and sloppyly tight, towards the thief's seemingly unprotected chest. At least it wasn't a particularly burly blade instead...