Solo [Shooting Star Inn] One’s Worst Enemy

Not everyone likes to see faces in their dreams.

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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[Shooting Star Inn] One’s Worst Enemy

Postby Haneht on August 30th, 2018, 1:01 pm

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71st, Summer 518AV


In the days following his blissful night with Raeyn, the violent urges had gradually begun making their way back into the home they seem to have made in his head, returning from a very brief vacation with souvenirs from the deepest abysses of his labyrinth mind.

His memories of Ahnouk.

As if having to wade through a figurative sea of red daily wasn’t enough, no, his head just had to get even weirder. He was dreaming more these days, and Haneht did not dream. Not in his sleep. Worst of all, there was always someone else in them. The boy never quite liked seeing faces in his sleep, never liked the invasiveness of it.

In such dreams, his Sister never spoke. He worried that it was because he might’ve forgotten her voice, but at the same time was relieved. If she could, what would she say? What was there to tell him? She looked at him with such an unreadable expression—perhaps she blamed him for being unable to save her and her Kefasha lover. At the same time, though her silence was appreciated, he couldn't help but want to hear her voice still. Hear her call his name once more, whisper juicy secrets and gossip she'd caught from the grapevine, tell him stories of the world and her daily adventures.
What he wouldn't give to see her smile at him just once more.

It was getting awfully difficult to sleep at night, when every time he lay down in bed, he would worry about seeing her in the realm of dreams. And when he did eventually drift off, overcome and betrayed by his own body, he would end up realising his predictions. Like some sort of prophecy. He had to remedy it somehow, and initially, Haneht's first choice of action had been to ram his head into the wall and hope for the best. No, he did not, fortunately. Bruising his head for a good night's sleep wasn't an idea the vain Eypharian entertained for long. So he moved on to his next favourable outlet.

Socialising!

It had been a while since he last visited the Shooting Star Inn. By a while, he many a few days. Previously however, it had been in search of Raeyn. He had gone up to Mara in hopes of locating her twin, in the midst of pursuing his latest obsession, and found her to be quite amicable company. Pleasing on the eyes as well. Something about her just... called to him. There was a likeness she shared with Ahnouk, that charming vibrancy an life she seemed to exude in waves. Now however, Haneht was not exactly planning to approach her at the inn. Truly, he just wanted company of strangers, faces to distract his mind a heart, maybe someone to take home and spend the night with.

The evening of the 65th saw him at the Shooting Star Inn, drinking himself silly and laughing with unfamiliar faces. Little did he know the troubles soon to come, and that fooling around with a pair of twins wasn't always considered acceptable, especially beyond Ahnatep.
Last edited by Haneht on February 6th, 2019, 5:11 pm, edited 6 times in total.
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[Shooting Star Inn] One’s Worst Enemy

Postby Haneht on September 24th, 2018, 4:47 am

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71st, Summer 518AV

The Inn was hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with dozens more. Sailors' tales, hunters' pursuits and latest achievements, various adventures and misadventures told collectively. The sort of atmosphere that never failed to take Haneht's mind off things. It was a fine night to drink away and make merry. Folks from all walks of life gathered in the inn, and Haneht saw a few familiar faces here and there. The exotic young man shared a few drinks, stole a few glances and then some, hopping from one group to another in search of more fun, more new thrills to distract and occupy himself with. At some point, a group of travelling Svefra, which he later found was the exact pod he had spent a good deal of time with on the sea on his travels to Lhavit, roped him in for a bit of catching up and a few rounds of games, to which he gladly obliged.

This was how he found himself downing booze by the mouthful, his seafaring friends chanting very enthusiastically as he and another one of the Bluecrest pod raced against the dancer to finish a pint of ale each. "Come on, Han! I've got ten mizas riding on ya', and my chores!" One of the entourage's younger seafarers egged on anxiously. At this, Haneht quickened his pace, tilting his head back a little more only to find himself drowning quite literally in ale. His windpipe and nose burned strongly at the intrusion, and he ended up cooking and sputtering on his drink, lips breaking contact com the rim of the pint to hack and cough away the burning sensation. His competitor, in the meantime, downed the last of hers in one big gulp and slammed her mug onto the table with a triumphant grin. Those with money on the female cheered and slapped at her back, while the rest groaned and reluctantly parted with precious savings, lamenting their lightened pockets. Haneht gave a sheepish smile. "Well then, boy, I believe payment is due," The winner drawled, tone deepening into a salacious whisper, "Now give me my kiss," and obey he did. Leaning in, he too challenged her, tall frame greatly overshadowing hers, and was met with an equally domineering woman despite her smaller stature. Their audience cackled, boisterous laughter and hoots joining others whistling appreciatively and smacking one another as if this were some sort of inside joke. "Missed me?" He teased, and was met with a shrug, nonchalant and unabashed, before the Eypharian was forcefully yanked forward by his collar, expression shifting from one of amusement to concentration as their lips met so hard that he felt her teeth.

Her insistent mouth parted his lips, and for a moment the Svefran woman overwhelmed him with the sheer intensity of it. Truly, they lived up to their reputation. Gods knew he had had a whale of a time aboard their ships, indulging freely in perhaps some of the most scandalous activities yet beyond Ahnatep. Every day spent with them had been like a party, not as grand as that of his home city's but equivalent, if not more so in liveliness. Hands moved across him, tracing patterns in his back and dipping down his back, grasping at his rear playfully. He returned the deed and bit at her lip before his hands trailed upwards to grasp either side of her face and hold her still as he greedily exploited every last bit of air she had until they were forced to part when both their lungs began to burn and ache.

Syphoning precious air into his lungs, he gave a wicked smile to the woman, who had a brow arched and something akin to pride and satisfaction glimmering in her ocean blue eyes. The rest of the party cheered, coming forward to give him a pat on his shoulders and embrace their old friend. "You've gotten thinner, Han. Lhavit's food not to your liking?" she smiled, "Did you get taller too?" The dancer merely shrugged. "Either that or you shrank. I think you look a little smaller than before." His playful remark, told with a pokerface, earned him a stunned stare before the blonde erupted into barking laughter. Then she too encircled her muscled arms around his waist and drew him into a bone-crushing hug. He gave her a few awkward pats on the back, feeling as if his ribs were about to crack and give way beneath her unbelievable might.

"Good to see you again, Nehtsh."

He flashed a strained smile. Of all times, this was possibly the worst for him to be reminded of home again.

"You too, Niki."

The gold of her hair seemed to bleed into a rich auburn.
Last edited by Haneht on February 6th, 2019, 5:12 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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[Shooting Star Inn] One’s Worst Enemy

Postby Haneht on September 29th, 2018, 3:42 pm

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71st, Summer 518AV


Haneht learned that in their time apart, Niki had picked up a fair bit of Arumenic from a traveling merchant who frequented Ahnatep to sell his goods, even receiving a small compilation of notes on his language as a gift. It was broken and mispronounced at times, but Niki had managed to put on a convincing enough display and accent, and they exchanged flirts in the language of his race. Figures. The blonde had always been one for languages.

He did not leave the tavern with her, to the Svefran's disappointment. Maybe next time, the boy had told her, and sent her and her cajoling bunch off with the location of more taverns and bars, as well as word of the Red Lantern. Afterwards, the Eypharian decided that perhaps that was enough of socialising for the night, and settled for sitting by the bar, drinking away his troubles well into Leth's reign. Varying from shots, then glasses, his hands eventually found themselves wrapped around a whole bottle of liquor, and as the night went on the young man found himself looking towards Mara more and more often, against his will. Mara, whose dazzling smile grew more and more endearing by the minute, whose jovial laugh sounded more like larksong everytime he heard it. Fiery curls bounced with every step she took; the woman was exuding charisma and confidence in boundless waves, a seemingly inextinguishable flame dancing on wick, and it both pained and made him so happy to watch her.

It was... almost, like a resurrection.

He stopped, eventually, liquor slowing down his train of thoughts and numbing his mind like he'd intended it to. Heat coursed through his veins, a buzz that tingled beneath his gilded skin. She was no longer at the forefront of his mind, but her presence still lingered. So he reached for his bottle, only to find it empty. Lips turned downwards into a frown, and in the gaze of his intoxicated mind he sat there and simply scrutinised the bottle, as if it might magically refill itself. Maybe it would. Maybe Mara would, invaded the thought, and he turned and twisted from his seat in search of the comely barmaid. Something tapped on his shoulder, and he turned, only to hear rustling of fabric from the other side as someone slid into the seat beside him.

"Looking for me?" Mara's smiling visage greeted him when his gaze finally met hers. She was nursing a drink of her own, cherry lips flushed against the glass. Such a nice colour, red. Inartas wore it so well. "Was I that obvious"? Haneht smiled, sitting upright with a bit of a sway as he angled himself towards her a little more. "You could barely take your eyes off me earlier." Raeyn's twin merely shrugged, pushing another glass that he had only then just realised was there in his direction. "This one's on me. As thanks, for looking out for Raerae." He snorted at the nickname. Cute. Would her brother mind if he used that pet name as well? "Haneht, right? I've seen you round a bit, though we've never really spoken. Loved your look at the Banquet, by the way." She was attempting to make conversation with him, came the daft realisation. Fair enough. He had spent enough time wallowing and moping about.

"You flatter me," said Haneht, though he was very pleased to know that he had been noticed. That was the point of dressing up, after all! "You were very beautiful as well. I think I was staring even then, maybe even the slightest bit envious," he shot her a debonair smile, already back at it with the charm. The barmaid cleared her throat, blushing ever so slightly at his straightforwardness, though clearly she welcomed it. "Such honeyed words. Do you say that to everyone you meet?" A sense of deja-vu washed over him, but he couldn't for the love of Syna figure out where or when he had heard similar words before. Haneht shook his head, scintillating amber eyes meeting the pair of hers sincerely. "Just the special ones," he paused for effect, easily delivering the rest of his well-rehearsed line smoothly. His silver-tongue, it seemed, spared no one. Not the prickly, quick to anger Raeyn, and certainly not his stunning sister. "And you're very special, Mara."
Last edited by Haneht on February 6th, 2019, 5:13 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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[Shooting Star Inn] One’s Worst Enemy

Postby Haneht on October 6th, 2018, 6:00 pm

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71st, Summer 518AV


"Really now? You think I'm special?" Mara purred, resting a cheek in palm as she leaned against the bar, bright eyes staring up at him with curiosity and affection. "Aren't you? You're so jovial and friendly. Vibrant. You.." mind blanking momentarily, he stared in a daze for a tick or two before regaining his senses once more. "You're alive." He finally managed to verbalize, and the pain in his heart returned. Why was it so hard to let go? You're alive, and she's not. The young man shot Mara a wistful smile, and the latter took his words in quietly, before she flashed her own set of pearly whites in reciprocation. "Well... Thank you. You're very sweet, Nehtsh," and even though she said these words so very sincerely, they did not reach him. The only thing that truly caught his attention had been the nickname, in an accent that the further he was from home, the less he heard of. On most days, he was hardly bothered if someone addressed him so familiarly. Heck, hed even brought it up himself on occasions. Indeed, there was a vague sense of homesickness the plagued him chronically, but he had it under control, he swore. It was only in light of recent events that everything seemed to weigh on his mind more, but it would pass in due time. Lhavit was his home now, the mountainous stronghold serving as a perfect barrier against the storms that chased him.

Was it?

Most days, being reminded of his home bothered him not. Though he had already lived a solid two years in the Jewel of Kalea, there were always a curious handful who sought to learn more of his foreign culture, to understand his heritage and the divinity of his multi-armed race. But today, tonight, he truly was not keen on being reminded of the glittering sands far away, murmuring his name in the wind, of the remaining sisters he had left behind without so much as a word. The dreams, Ahnouk, Niki. He had hoped the Inn would give him what he wanted, what he needed, but he had yet to forget. And now... Mara too, would not let him?

Sensing the change in mood, Mara settled a soft, scented hand on one of his many shoulders, anchoring him back to reality. A lighthouse, like one of Priskil's watchtowers, beckoning the lost sailor back to the safety of land. "Are you alright? Did I say it wrongly? I thought I heard that woman call you that a few times." She asked, concern evident in her features and tone. Blinking away the fog that had enshrouded his thoughts, he held his head in his hands briefly, dry laugh escaping him. "Fine, perfect. Drinking just makes me ponder more. Much, much more." He paused. "That sounded a little off though. Just Han will do." The boy raised his head once more, brushing off her concern with a well-practiced smile that seemed genuine enough to momentarily convince. "Is that so? What do you think of then? You always look like you've your head stuck in the clouds." She recieved merely a hum in reply. And so he shared, all the strange little thoughts that would drift over his mind, random things on an unbelievably wide scale, from poetry to silly theories. Tales. Haneht had never been the best storyteller, could never properly express himself and all his thoughts, so truly it surprised him when Mara somehow managed to keep up. Or at least, seemed to. In fact...

Mara was holding a conversation with him. An actual, two-way conversation that actually made sense, at least to him in his semi-drunken stupor. They spoke and teased at one another, playful banter turning into salacious whispers as time bled later into the night, and from her Haneht learned much of her childhood. Of Raeyn's childhood. How they had lost their mother, much like he had. Mara, in turn, learned a little bit more about the brunet's way of seeing the world. Unbeknownst to her, however, the kaleidoscope he seemed to look at everything through was far more complicated than she wouldve comprehended then. Despite his evident intoxication, he still had enough of his mind functioning to withhold his words, and only allowed her what he could afford to. Little things that seemed to matter, but in truth did not. He was quite good at exaggerating, after all. Eventually, he spoke less and let Mara do more of the talking, adding in his own bits and pieces here and there to show the he was still in the conversation.

"You're such a good listener."

Was he now?

At some point, they moved a little closer, got a little more comfortable around the other. Mara confessed her worries of Raeyn, and Haneht listened, because it was her voice, her person he was clinging on to now. He had come in search of a distraction, and perhaps Mara had been the best find yet. No dreams, nightmares, for him tonight.

"Are you courting anyone, Han?" Mara asked at some point, and for reasons unknown and incomprehensible to him, his magnificent hunter immediately came to mind. The name lingered on the tip of his tongue, but did not make it past rose petal lips, barricaded and sealed. "No, he answered, and she seemed quite satisfied, almost pleased even by the answer. "Only you, now." He added cheekily.

Gradually, the Eypharian found himself growing more fond of the barmaid. The redhead's coy smiles, jubilant chortling laughs, her ability to hold her liquor. Drank like a champ, she did, and he would be lying if he said he didn't find that attractive in a person. Even as the Inn quietened, as people begun to make their way home and others their room, he barely paid any attention to anything else but the Inarta. Stood by the doorway, he watched her clear plates and mugs, bid her colleague and few dawdling customers goodbye, and the dancer wondered why he had been so reluctant to Mara before, never realised how pleasant she was to be around or how warm the very air around her could be. The light that danced in little flecks of pigment in her eyes, the grace of her neck and slim shoulders and waist. Truly, a stunning rose.

Naturally, Haneht wanted it for himself. The most beautiful things, he had to touch, had to have the satisfaction of simply having, even knowing the harm he might cause. The selfishness of his wants.

"Han?" Eyelids fluttered open - Mara was staring at him, saccharine smile dazzling and a telltale intoxicated flush dusting her porcelain complexion - and the Eypharian held an arm out in a most gentlemanly gesture. Mara happily slid her own into his, and he felt brazen enough to stoop down to meet her height and draw her in for a kiss, to which he found himself met with eagerness from the maiden herself. When they broke apart, much more flushed and warm than they had been moments ago, Haneht wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in the crook of her neck. A man-child clinging, almost desperately, but it was not Mara that he wanted, nor any of the sincerity she offered. Just her company, someone to warm his bed and chase away the despair, the loneliness he'd never willingly admit he felt. A bulwark against the restless horde of his greatest fears, demons born of his own actions.

It took a monster to fight one, but the Eypharian was vaguely sure that he was taking the saying very, very wrongly. None of this felt right, yet at the same time, as Mara wrapped her arms around him and brought the embrace to full-circle, there was a familiar sense of relief. Comfort. Excitement.

Lips trailing up to brush against her ear, he made a request that neither knew they would soon regret. "Come home with me."
Last edited by Haneht on February 6th, 2019, 5:13 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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[Shooting Star Inn] One’s Worst Enemy

Postby Haneht on October 9th, 2018, 5:26 pm

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71st, Summer 518AV


The long walk back to his cottage had been but a blur. Haneht prided himself greatly in being a romantic, an expert when it came to pleasing company and setting the mood, building things up nice and slow whenever he pursued someone of interest. Enjoy the full thrill of pursuit, of picking the other apart and piecing them back together for his own satisfaction. However, tonight, he had forgone all the pleasantries, the fanciful advances and heart-pounding romancing and delved straight into indulging himself. The comfort of flesh called to him most, promising to cure him of sleepless nights and face-plagued dreams, to soothe that weird itch in hands that secretly yearned to tear someone's head off in a most brutal manner.

When his evening spiralled into more discomfort than the relief he had been seeking, it had already taken a great deal of effort to control himself, to seem as normal as possible. No matter how playful or irresponsible he was, the most basic of discipline had to be maintained, always. His image was his armour, meant to hide vulnerable flesh from vultures he knew were waiting for him beyond the protection of his shell.

The stench of fear was as pungent on him as any other man, no matter how brave or foolhardy he was. Everyone feared something.

In the Eypharian, it manifested as a fear of attachment. Vulnerability. Having to open up wholly, bare himself to another in a less than pleasurable manner. Getting comfortable, only to find that such comforts were never guaranteed, that you could lose something more easily than you obtained it. What was there to gain? Surely, less than there was to lose. And he would not, could not risk that. So even if he was hurting others, betraying their misplaced trust, he convinced himself that nothing was wrong, that this was simply the way he was. Time passed, and he believed, turning himself into a creature of self-gratification.

Nipping at his collarbone, Mara rose on the tips of her toes to plant a dainty kiss on his lower lip."You're so quiet today. Usually, I hear you chatting up a storm with everyone else." She remarked. "I want to know you more, Haneht." Confessed his newfound lover, supple hands gliding up the firm musculature of his bare chest and neck to rest on his face. Her touch was warm, fire against his skin, and he leaned into the affectionate gesture, savouring the moment. "Why you've such sad eyes when you think no one's looking." She wound her hand into his, fingers interlocking and fitting like a glove in his large hands, and he found the line dividing the comfort of intimacy and of familiarity thinning. In the end, they soothed him all the same, didn't they? And that was all he needed. A temporary solution to what seemed and felt like an eternal problem. "Why someone like you has no lover to hold on nights like these." All he could do was respond with a wry smile in the dark of the room, wordless. He has had plenty of such lovers, though he knew those dalliances were not what she meant. And he wondered why the redhead was even here, when surely she'd seen him with many others. Were they more similar than he'd thought? As she brought his gaze to meet hers, he shut his eyes momentarily, unable to meet those crystal pools that brimmed with such warmth, the genuineness of which was too unsettling. Of which Haneht inwardly knew, he was undeserving of. Ah, this was why he had avoided her. Those eyes were much too clear and sharp for his liking, almost clairvoyant in nature. Even in their liquor-induced haze. He did not want Mara's pity or concern, only the comfort of her presence, her touch.

Was it odd to want her to look at him and not at the same time?

Mara was one of the casanova's countless victims, a little more special than the rest perhaps, endeared to him only for the resemblance she bore to one of the most adored women of his life, but in time he would move on. So would she, he assured himself, as he captured her plump lips, took them for his own and effectively silenced her. Before any more unnecessary questions were asked, before the reprieve he'd found morphed once more into a heavy, anguishing burden. The taste of liquor invaded his senses, mingling with the thickening scent of his pheromones bleeding into the air. "As the fair lady so wishes." The barmaid would not remember her drunken words come morning, either way, with how red she was from the neckline up. The twinge of guilt that pricked him soon dissappeared, and he surrendered to the temptation of flesh. A pair of pale blue eyes not unlike Mara's was conjured up in the back of his mind, an apparition that faded away before he could even recognise and comprehend it.

Any and all remaining hesitation and guilt were lost in the purging of clothes, sinful murmurs poured over one another in the midst of it all with only the night's reigning deity illuminating their frames with a dim glow.

That night, the brunet tumbled into a much-needed dreamless sleep, closely pressed against the only other body of warmth and leeching it of its heat.

Last edited by Haneht on February 6th, 2019, 5:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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[Shooting Star Inn] One’s Worst Enemy

Postby Haneht on December 8th, 2018, 5:44 pm

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71st, Summer 518AV


Come morning, Haneht awoke to feather-light touches tracing and exploring the planes of his face. Before that, he'd been in the midst of a most pleasant, dreamless sleep, repaying a week or so's worth debt of sleep.

As his eyes flickered open lazily, his companion let out a light, tinkling giggle. Sunlight peeked out from the gaps between his curtained windows, and the brunet knew it must've been noon or slightly past it when his stomache growled in protest. "Do you always sleep so well?" She teased, bracing herself on the bed with her elbows. Loose curls of flame glided like waterfalls over her shoulders, dipping into the grooves of her shoulders and collarbones. With a weary blink, and another to drive the sleep away from his eyes, the Eypharian pryed a numbing arm from beneath his pillow and mimicked her position, albeit a little sluggishly. "You were here, after all," he lifted her hand and pressed his lips against her fingers. "How's your head?" If Mara had been anywhere near as intoxicated as he had been, surely she must be having some degree of a hangover. "I've had worse," the woman boldly claimed, before adding as an afterthought, "But I'm up for staying in bed a little more. My shift starts later today. Plenty of time for me to know you better. Work things out."

... She remembered.

"Equivalent exchange," the Eypharian offered, wrapping his arms around her waist to reel her in closer, like a treasure from Laviku's depths. The sudden motion elicited a gasp, before Mara contentedly settled against him, head pressed above his heart. "You first," the words left her lips before they could leave his. "Tell me about your family." So he did. Mara would come to learn that her newest lover was of a wealthy family, rooted deep in the heart of the desert where many others with similar physicalities roamed. He told her of his sisters, all far from his reach, omitting that one was especially so, having fallen into Dira's embrace. His mother, a great beauty and performer of her time, whose footsteps Haneht had followed into the arts. His stern father, who was much kinder and closer in his retellings of the man than when the person himself was alive. Then he turned the question on Mara, and did the same with every subsequent inquiry of himself. Rambled a little, skimming just the surface of Haneht and simplifying a great deal of his otherwise complex and overly-detailed profile, then made Mara do more of the talking. The barmaid was quite pleased, either way, that he seemed to enjoy listening just as much as he loved hearing his own voice.

From Mara, Haneht learned a little more of Raeyn as well. His beautiful hunter with star-speckled skin, fiery hair streaked with Leth's moonbeams. The death of their mother as children, something Haneht would've been able to relate to better had he been closer to the woman who birthed him. The loss of his mother had not affected him as deeply as the twins, he's sure, but he nodded in vague understanding nontheless. The silly accidents and trouble they got into as children, Mara's favourite time of the year, an ungodly love for alcohol that all three of them seemed to share. Raeyn's beloved dog and chicken.

Their post-coital cuddling and small-talk carried well into the afternoon, punctuated by them drifting off at some point, and eventually, with a great deal of reluctance and plenty more procrastination, they peeled themselves off one another to wash up and get ready for what remained of the fading day. Haneht scrounged up what he could of his kitchen to make a decent enough meal of bread and Okomo cheese for them both.

"Come see me soon, love." Mara whispered with honey in her words as she pecked him on the cheek lovingly. As he embraced her once more, he too placed a light, butterfly kiss atop her head, sending her off with a wide smile as she pulled away from him and set off with a spring in her step. the fabric of her dress ruffling in the wind as she hurried down the paths of the Estates, brilliant hair billowing out like a veil of silken fire behind her.

Haneht was exceedingly careful to make no promises he couldn't keep.
Last edited by Haneht on February 6th, 2019, 5:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Haneht
All that glitters.
 
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[Shooting Star Inn] One’s Worst Enemy

Postby Madeira Craven on January 16th, 2019, 7:47 pm

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Grades Awarded!

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Haneht

Skills
  • Planning: 1xp
  • Socialization: 5xp
  • Gambling: 1xp
  • Seduction: 5xp
  • Observation: 4xp
  • Subterfuge: 1xp
  • Storytelling: 1xp

Lores
  • Socializing: the cure for restlessness
  • Seduction: forward teasing
  • Raeyn: called RaeRae by Mara
  • Seduction: oh my god, so much flirting
  • Lore of homesickness
  • Socialization: a look into Mara and Raeyn's childhood
  • Subterfuge: withholding information

Awards & Retribution


Notes
Bad Han! What have you done! Lol, another great thread! Haneht is quite the complicated character and has great depth to him.

As a side note, you have a bad grammar habit of putting two speakers in the same block of text. When a person begins to speak there should be a break and them given their own paragraph. It makes for cleaner reading. :nod:
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