I Know What You Did This Spring... (Cassandra)

[Syndre]

He suddenly felt like a frustrated parent dealing with a stubborn child.

Trying to get her to cooperate with his motives had begun to wear on his nerves.
With a soft sigh the rogue firmly wrestled the expensive pipe and slender
candle into her gloved hands, applying enough pressure as he did to remind her
that his strength was far greater and that he was in control of this encounter.
Grasping her delicate hands tightly, sinew graced appendages rose and slowly
guided the curving stem of the smoking instrument against center of her bottom
lip, carefully forcing the black tip within her mouth. The ensnaring digits of
his opposite hand curled deeply, causing her wrist to bend inward, bringing the
candle's flaming apex into ivory pipe's wide bowl.

"You can either breathe in until you can't inhale any longer... or...," his

threatening gaze, narrowed and blue, bore into her hazel eyes with the brief
pause before he continued,"...You can walk back into that Tavern... knowing
the authorities will be looking for you in the morning..." The anger that contorted
his features then quickly relaxed into a more adorable, carefree expression. His
sinister voids ceased their narrowed assault upon her eyes, slowly widening until
returning to their regular glossy width. The unnaturally cool, yet comforting
breeze returned as he anticipated her decision. Her thick locks of dark hair
whipped softly about her enticing visage from the soothing rush of wind, the
beautiful movement accompanied by the chaotic flicker of the candle's flame.

Getting Cassandra to smoke the exotic blend of herbs was a necessary

part of his cunning plans. The fact that she didn't know how to smoke was all
the more amusing, for this meant that this would be her first encounter with
the potent drug he provided. The first time a person smoked the Sylrian herbs
was the greatest, for they knew not its powerful properties. Once the addictive
poisons were absorbed into their coursing bloodstream, the unexpected euphoria
would overtake their senses. It would be easier to deal with her once her
stubborn attitude was washed away by the enthralling pleasure. All she had to
do was... take a sweet breath.

[Cassandra Coven]

Cassandra gasped in pain as the man forced her to hold the two items, the force of his grip on her wrists unrelenting until her delicate fingers closed upon the items. He did not stop there however, forcing the mouthpiece of the pipe into her mouth, hitting her on the gum the first time when she tried to squeeze her lips shut tight. The stabbing sensation and the subsequent impact made her wince, and the pipe still ended up where the man wanted it to. The small flame of the candle danced before her, waiting for her to take the breath that would make it bow and light the weed stuffed at the end of the pipe. She wanted to resist again of course, to throw the pipe away into the canal behind her in a show of defiance, but the man's constant threats defeated the fight out of her. Resigned to just doing what she was told, hoping that the experience of smoking would be no different that what she remembered her father did when he relaxed over his reading chair, Cassandra sucked air through the mouthpiece. The herbs ignited immediately as soon as the flame caressed them, and Cassandra's briefest of breaths siphoned the heady fumes into her mouth, through her throat and down her lungs. It was the first time she inhaled unfiltered smoke and, as she felt the sudden tightness within her chest, she gagged reflexively. Smoke billowed out of her mouth as she coughed, some of it being forced out of her nose as well, burning her sinuses. But it was enough to get the drug flowing into her veins and it took but moments to take effect. Cassandra experienced a strange crawling feeling working its way up her back, through her spine, worming its way up into her brain. Its sensation was like a lover's touch, relaxing her tense muscles, lowering her guard. Light-headed, she felt herself sag against the stone rail behind her, and she couldn't understand why she found herself...at ease. "Ooh," she sighed. Happily, it seemed. Instinctively, or perhaps it was some unconscious impulse telling her too, she sucked in another breath, taking in another dose of the intoxicating smoke.

[Syndre]

A surge of relief flooded the thief's mind as the attractive barmaid

finally surrendered to his demands. Taking her as easy prey, Syndre had found
out how damn stubborn this woman could be, even in the face of danger. He hoped
the encounter would go much more smoothly now that she had inhaled the
creeping smoke. An internal laugh crossed his thoughts as she took a second
puff from the pipe without the rogue having to force it upon her, a good sign
to be sure. His tenacious grip eased considerably upon her smaller hands, though
he continued to hold them to remain in control. He allowed her to complete the
extra intake of burning herbs before guiding the art inspired pipe from her soft
lips, simultaneously leading her hand that gripped the candle downward.

"You see... that wasn't so bad was it?...," his voice held a soothing tone

while he worked his hand slowly over hers, a thumb and forefinger gently closing
over the candle's wick to extinguish the fire. Her hand was then released so
he could return the thin candle back into the confines of a pocket. Just a
moment after he had performed the action, heavy footfalls echoed audibly off the
cobblestone surface of the street beside the Tavern. A slow turn of his head
brought a searching gaze over his black clothed shoulder, a flash of paranoia
emanating over the blue of his eyes.

A lone figure came into view of the torch light, dressed in the familiar

black leather armor that the city guard wore. A large sheath swung back and forth
in an intimidating manner upon his hip as his loud steps grew closer to the
outside patio. The guard was working the streets, assigned to this sector of the
city, performing his nightly patrol to keep the peace. The advancing solider
glanced down the length of a nearby alley, then moved on. His steady path led
him near the Silver Sliver's outer tables, and now his roaming eyes were moving
over the area where Syndre and Cassandra stood.

The rogue cursed under his breath, swiftly turning his attention back to

the drug induced server. His free hand slid across the curve of her slim waist
to the small of her back, drawing her body unexpectedly close. His handsome
countenance tilted down to press against the side of her own, the heat of his
breath washing over her sensitive ear," Play along..." Syndre hid his features
within the warmth of her neck, snuggling the side of his visage along the smooth
expanse of skin in false affection. Though playing the role of a romantic lover,
Syndre could not help but to close his azure eyes at the fragrance drifting from
the woman's curving tresses.

His left glove worked very slowly between their touching forms, stealing back

his ivory pipe from her light grip. Cassandra then felt the lengthy stem sliding
carefully underneath the band of her skirt, followed by the carved ivory base
which he fully concealed within her clothing. Sleek leather fingers crept out
from below the fabric after stashing the pipe on her person, his left hand then
moving around her figure to join the right along her back. Syndre's eyes opened
after taking in her enticing scent, another quiet whisper making its way to her
ears," Stay calm... and let me know when he walks away..." The downward tilt
of his head allowed her hazel eyes, which at this moment began to gloss over, to
view the curious solider who was staring at them from a distance.

[Cassandra Coven]

Cassandra coughed again after the second puff from the pipe, her eyes watering from the strain of it. She knew the smoke was bad for her. It was some sort of drug, dulling her senses and warping her perception. But for the moment, she did not care, the man's silence about her dark secret more important that some intoxicant. The feeling of well-being it gave her was a plus too, she supposed, though she just had to remember not to take in any more of it or risk getting addicted. Yes, she thought, putting aside that small reminder in some part of her mind not yet touched by the drug. I really shouldn't get addicted to this feeling. Smoking is bad. She reinforced that idea by imagining the wasted old men she had seen passing a long pipe between themselves as they hung around under the awning of their houses in the seedier part of the city. The man tensed for a moment before Cassandra felt herself suddenly being pulled into his arms in what could only be a lover's embrace. Her eyes widened as he buried his face on the side of her neck, before she caught sight of what he had warned against. A city guard had entered the plaza from the alley behind the tavern and was eying the two of them, the only people out in the street at the moment. In the back of her mind, Cassandra found it strange that the man was wary of someone under the employ of the Ebonstryfe when he himself said that he had connections to that group. She did not question him however, as she too had reason to avoid their attention. Playing along, just as he had suggested, Cassandra obediently wrapped her arms around his neck, going so far as to tilt her head back for show, as if pleasured by his ministrations. All the while she kept one eye on the guard, even as she felt the man conceal his pipe on the waistband of her skirt. To hide his movements, she snaked a gloved hand up the back of his head and ran her fingers through his dark hair. The guard started towards them, not yet sure of what he was seeing from his angle. "He's coming here!" Cassandra breathed, making sure to modulate her voice to just above a whisper so that its sound would not carry over the open air. Taking matters into her own hands - literally - Cassandra grasped at the man's hair, a little too tightly perhaps, payback for all the liberties he had taken on her so far, before pushing his head down even lower, letting his face settle on the base of her neck. She allowed a soft moan to escape her lips, just loud enough to be heard, as she continued to watch the guard's every move through half-lidded eyes. The guard seemed to pause at the sound. Cassandra could see his shoulders bob up and down, as if chuckling at the sight of them, before turning to head towards the opposite end of the place. His footsteps began to fade away but the dark-haired barmaid waited until he had turned a corner before she whispered to the man. "He's gone." She eased away from him, breathing deeply, her chest rising and falling visibly, as if excited by the short act they had just played. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glossy as she looked up at him, though there was still wariness in her expression. "What...what now?"

[Syndre]

Syndre's eyes gently closed once again while feeling her lithe arms slipping

around his neck. She indeed was playing along, and though the warm embrace they
shared was merely an act, the rogue thought of her closeness as inviting. Hidden
voids of ocean blue began to roll upward beneath his eyelids at the touch of her
fingers working thru his short spiked hair. For just a moment, perhaps a few
seconds though it seemed longer in his warped state, the thief seemed to forget
that the leather armored guard was even there. Then a painful reminder brought
him back to reality as she forcefully gripped his black hair. Cobalt eyes opened
and his facial features contorted into a sudden wince. Her head had tilted back
and with control over his, she led his pale visage further down to the base of
her slender throat.

His haze plagued sight descended even further with his head settled in this

position, allowing his curious gaze to examine the pliable cleavage beneath
the opening of her blouse. Her soft moan disturbed his already scattered
thoughts in a pleasant way, and then he realized that Cassandra was much more
skilled in acting than he. His smoothly shaven face could not hold back a
deeply amused smile at how this situation had swerved off course, but the
path it had taken didn't bother him in the slightest. Cassandra was an
unnaturally gorgeous woman, perhaps more so than she probably gave herself
credit for and Syndre didn't mind her attentions to his body, even if they
served a false purpose.

The barmaid eased away from the rogue after that lingering moment of closeness,

her quiet voice announcing that the Ravokian guard had moved on. She could see
a trace of sensuous excitement displayed on his features and in turn he noticed
her labored breath and rosin cheeks. Though the guard had stricken them both
with a sense of fear, they amplified sensation of the near encounter had actually
been fun. Much of Syndre's childhood lacked in that department and he was surely
making up for it in the early stages of his adulthood. He defiantly broke the
law, indulged his senses with potent intoxicants, and surrounded himself with
women every chance he could. He was definitely making up for lost time.

"I suppose we can return to the business at hand...," he responded to her

question with one more glance over his shoulder, making sure the patrolling
guard was indeed gone. Satisfied by the empty street, he returned his attentive
eyes back to the lovely female and gathered his broken thoughts. "I have need
of your services... and I can tell by your recent actions that you are well
suited for what I have planned...," the sound of his voice seemed lighter than
before, as if the moment they had just shared had tamed the dominance he had
expressed earlier. The wickedness in his azure orbs never faltered, his slightly
moistened eyes staring while buckle enforced boots began to move over the
cobblestones that were inlaid along the furniture equipped patio.

"You can be very seductive when you want to be...," his voice but a whisper

now as he slowly approached her. Both of his gloved hands lifted with fluid ease
as the short distance was covered and his sleek digits grabbed at the trim of
her flowing skirt, a firm tug upon the material drawing her even closer. His
right hand kept a controlling grip against the fragile band, working it slightly
downward, perhaps an inch or two, against her feminine hips while his left hand
gently retrieved his precious pipe from under the dipping trim. Once the lengthy
instrument slid up and out, he allowed the stretching band to pop back in place
against her delicate skin.

[Cassandra Coven]

He enjoyed it; she could immediately tell from the look on his face. Many a grasping hand back in the tavern would have been envious of where his own hands had been, many a leery eye would have paid to be given the chance of a closer view of what he had seen. On any other day Cassandra would have found herself offended by, or slightly irritated at the very least since in her line of work, being gawked at lasciviously by strangers came with the territory. At the moment, however, the dark haired barmaid did not care and even seemed to exult in it. Perhaps it was the drug she had taken in working its evil magic on her, making her unnaturally more at ease. Whatever it was, with every passing second, she had become more compliant to the man's words than she had been earlier. Even the threatening tone he had used on her before was momentarily forgotten. "And what is it exactly that you want from me?" Cassandra asked. She still did not know what the man wanted from her in exchange for his silence about the unfortunate event that occurred the previous day. It was her hope that a mere exchange of money or performing a service to stop him from wagging his tongue on the wrong ear but she knew that was never the way things worked for people like him. She had seen and overheard enough under the table deals occurring in the Silver Sliver to know how blackmail worked. The one in control never relinquished their hold on their victim, not unless the latter found some way to blackmail their oppressor back. The man approached her once more, hands leading, and Cassandra thought that the first of the many payments she had to give for his silence was at hand. She did not flinch however, her glossy eyes matching his, though hers lacked the intensity and dominance found in the man's azure orbs. "I can be very good at what I choose to do, Mister...?" Her tone was leading, suggestive, one she had used many a time to coax tavern patrons to part with their coin and buy more drinks. But it was the first time she was using it to wheedle information out of a man. Cassandra realized she read his intentions wrong when she felt the band of her skirt snapped against her narrow waist. The man had only been after his pipe it seemed. She did well to cover her surprise... and her embarrassment at the delusion that her charms actually had an effect on him. Schooling her face to a neutral expression, Cassandra waited for him to speak his plans for her. In the back of her mind however, a small desire to take another whiff of the intoxicating smoke of his bubbled. She pushed it away. The rash on her arm began to itch at the same time and she absently scratched it.

[Syndre]

The woman's charms had more of an effect than she knew, even when she wasn't

trying. She was surrounded by a certain air that he couldn't quite figure out,
something wasn't right about this one. Such an innocent guise she wore without
any effort, but Syndre had seen the truth behind the clever facade the day
before. She spun her deceptions well and this ability truly lured the thief
into her mysterious aura, attracted to what he didn't know. Though asking a
question of him, there were underlying hints laced within her words that he
had picked up on. Maybe there was more to his dealings this evening than he
had hoped for.

His finely crafted pipe slipped back underneath the encircling grip of his

black sash as she gave attention to an itch upon her hand. Remaining close,
either toned appendage lifted toward her head, encased fingertips curling
lightly along edge of her jaw line with the underside of his gloved thumbs
touching her cheeks. The sleek leather felt smooth against her delicate skin
as they traveled slowly from either side of her nose down to the edge of her
slanting jaw, then back up along the curve of either cheek with the same
lingering speed. The slow caress to each side of her visage was accompanied
by the friendly tone of a quiet whisper," Oh yes... I would wager a good
amount of Miza that you can easily melt the hearts of men... getting them to
do whatever you desire..."

With his head tilting downward and forward, the flat surface of his

forehead touched upon her own. The tip of his nose pressed gently to hers and
his warm breath mixed nicely with the cool air upon her mouth, releasing his
whispers unto her," You will be helping me sell the herbs we just smoked...
actually... you will be advertising samples to the customers of your Tavern..."
A final caress worked over her soft cheeks before his fingertips uncurled and
moved further upward, every exploring digit finding their into the silken
recesses of her thick mane. "...Using your wonderful charms to get them
addicted... where in turn you will send them to me for their next fix...," so
close was his whispering voice that she could feel the tickle of his mouth
moving against her full lips.

The length of his covered fingers ran a path so slow that it seemed to take

forever to reach the back of her head, her dark hair parting easily between
them. "You do this for me... and perhaps some other... small favors... and
you can consider the death of that armored man a secret...," he allowed his
tender lips to hover along the opening of her slightly parted mouth, stealing
her breath as he inhaled and she exhaled. "...A secret only me and you will
know about... nobody else...," this last bit was added with his bottom lip
gliding faintly against the edge of her own lower lip, just a brushing contact
that would be described as more of a caress than a kiss.

[Cassandra Coven]

The man moved to touch her, his hands reaching up to frame her face, and Cassandra could not help but feel a sense of apprehension at the contact. And yet at the same time, his nearness excited her, made her heart beat just a little bit faster. She found herself anticipating his every move, thinking ahead just what he would do next. She remained unmoving but, because of the intoxicant she had taken in, unresisting, a little more pliant. What is it with you and dangerous men? she asked herself as the man spoke to her of his need for her service and assistance to propagate his little 'business'. The dark haired barmaid did not know if distribution of such substances were prohibited by the Ebonstryfe but she was certain they would want a cut in the profits of such a enterprise should they discover it. By the man's words, he wanted her to be part of his ring of pushers - for she was sure she wasn't the only one he had involved in it. She would not be a distributor per se, that would be him of course, but she would a sort of 'tease', as he had hinted, to create a demand among the patrons of the Silver Sliver. Cassandra was not sure of Mama or Papa would approve. She did not have time to consider it further for the man drew ever closer to her, his lips parallel to her own, brushing against them. His breath, smoky flavored with that sweet scent of the herbs he had made her smoke, seemed to beckon to her, and as he whispered his extortion for her cooperation, Cassandra could only move her head in a nod - a fraction of a movement but perceptible in their proximity. As he had done so before, but her own actions now involuntary, Cassandra sucked in air through her mouth, inadvertently stealing the faint memory of the drug she now felt deprived of from his breath. It broke the spell between them, and fear began to creep once more in her heart as the weight of the man's words settled in on her slender shoulders, his knowledge of the murder she had committed the day previous like the kiss of a knife on her neck, one the man held in place only upon her continued observance of their agreement. He could oh so easily divulge her secret, essentially drawing the imaginary knife over her neck and destroying her. "As...as you will," Cassandra whispered in defeat. "I'll do as you say. Just don't tell...just-just..." She stammered, unsure as to whether to further give voice to her shame. "Just...don't."

[Syndre]

"Just... don't screw with me woman...," shrouded hands curled within her

dark tresses as he spoke, clamping fingers acquiring a firm grip. He pulled slightly
downward, causing her head to fall back while her attractive visage lifted
toward the blackened sky. Keeping a forceful hold, his cobalt pools moved slowly
over the exposure of her throat, following the contours of her soft skin down to
the base of her slender neck. After allowing his azure gaze another lingering
tease below the opening of the barmaid's blouse, his predatory stare worked its
way back up, just as slowly, to the smooth area beneath her chin. He then turned
her head to the left, and then to the right with the painful guidance of his
controlling grip as if he were studying every minute detail her facial features
had to offer. Such a beautiful creature he thought to himself while inspecting
either side of her tilting countenance.

"We can either have a very... very unstable relationship...," his words

touched upon her face in the form of whispered warmth and when uttering the word
unstable his gloved hands tightened further, causing another small flash of pain
to erupt from the roots of her lush hair. The sudden pull against her abundant
locks was soon accompanied by the smooth surface of his shaven face, which gently
came into contact with her left cheek. His head offered a delicate motion, the
side of his pale visage and the soft length of a single twisted braid both
working in a deliberate circle over her sensitive skin. "...or you can play by
my rules... and we will get along extremely well...," the tone of his voice
changed from an aggressive warning back to a soothing release of words, hiding
the blue of his eyes once more at the pleasant sensation of her warm skin
touching his own.

A slow, deep breath was taken, like he was savoring the moment, then his

head leaned back away from her gorgeous face and his leathery digits released
their tenacious grip within her silken mane. Crystalline voids reopened to
gaze upon the alluring being before him while his previously clenching hands
now ran gently down the entire length of her hair. Once his sleek touch slipped
forth from the bottom of her curving locks, his hands retreated from around the
back of her lithe form to the front of his ebon sash. A small pouch was untied
and taken from the dark material surrounding his waist," A little something to
hold you over... until I return..." A step back was taken upon a booted heel and
the tiny sack of Sylirian herbs was lightly tossed in her direction with a flick
of his wrist.

Nothing else needed to be said and he had already kept her from her duties

for far too long. Somebody would probably step outside the Tavern looking for
her soon and he didn't want to be around when they did. A playful wink was given
to Cassandra before his darkly clad form spun about, his thin black braids
whipping thru the air from the sudden movement. His footfalls took him upon a
path that led him away from the Silver Sliver Tavern, in the opposite direction
the Ebonstryfe had taken. His plans were coming together rather nicely as
Cassandra, another piece of his unlawful project, seemed to fit snuggly into his
complicated puzzle. The herbs she had smoked were strangely addictive, even the
aroma that she had smelled upon his breath had stimulated apart of her mind,
urging her to partake in the drug once again. Syndre had given the barmaid her
own tease of a stash, to strengthen the addiction that took root in her body.

[Cassandra Coven]

Cassandra's eyes teared up as the man forcefully pulled her hair back, exposing her throat. It was much similar to the way she had pulled at his hair earlier, but his grip was much more forceful, more intimidating with the aura of violence he was exuding. She almost reached up to grab at his arms to lessen the pressure but a deep sense of vulnerability had engulfed and froze her, like a doe catching sight of a hunter about to fire off an arrow. Her eyes followed his as he tilted her head one way, then the other, azure orbs roaming over her face, her neck...and lower. The barmaid bore it all in silence, fearful to retaliate even though her keen dagger was within easy reach and pulling it out and slipping the thin blade between the man's third and fourth rib would have been oh so easy, distracted as he was leering her, devouring her with his gaze. And yet she found that she could not, so complete was the hold of fear he had on her. Submissively, she endured the pain on her scalp and whispered her compliance to his demands. "I will...I will!" Cassandra gasped. She shut her eyes closed as a wave of self-loathing washed over her. She hated herself for her own weakness but she could not fight agaisnt the man's dominance. And then the pain was gone and, when she opened her eyes, so was the man, his back turned to her as he walked to the direction where the night guard came from. In her hands, however, she saw that she now held a small bag. She did not have to open it to know that it contained a fistful of the herbs the man had made her smoke. Fearfully, worried that someone might have caught the exchange, she slipped the item inside her bodice, nestling it between her modest breasts. Looking back up and regarding the man's retreating figure, Cassandra could not help but wonder if the small bag was a sample for her own use or if she was to distribute it among the bar patrons. Already she could feel the desire to try it out once more even as she told herself that she should just fix it up in disposable pipes for the tavern drinkers just as the man had commanded.