The Third Party [Julian]

[Ophelia]

Timestamp: TBA by Julian Kila’s looks were obviously not Lhavitian. Her ice blonde hair combined with her ice pale ‎skin, with her piercing eyes, set to place her apart from those who found it fit to make their ‎residence high among the peaks of the Unforgiving. Tourists were no stranger to the city, ‎but Kila certainly turned heads. ‎ Kila walked steadily through the Amaranthine Gate, her stride tall, and surprisingly, every ‎part of her clean. For one who had just travelled through such unforgiving terrain, it was to ‎be assumed that they would be exceedingly filthy, but no, Kila was as clean as a stuck up ‎Twilight. She walked past the Cosmos Center, not in confusion, but it was obvious Kila was ‎no stranger to the city. Eyes watched her regal pose as she walked through the streets, all ‎the while moving with purpose.‎ She walked, finally, up to the Shooting Star Inn. She entered without pausing, the ‎restaurant only having two or three other couples, and sat down at a table close to the front ‎of the restaurant without talking to any of the waiters there. They floundered, shocked at ‎her presupmtion, but ultimately they recovered, heading up towards the blonde woman and ‎muttering carefully to her, trying not to disturb the other patrons but also attempting to ‎please the seeming unpleasurable woman.‎ ‎“Can we help you, ma’am?” they whispered to her, in hushed tones, trying to placate her. ‎They had been thrown but they were there to do their jobs. Kila and they muttered for a ‎while, exchanging details about what she would like to eat and what sort of room they ‎expected, before the waiters scuttered off, leaving Kila with a glass of wine and eyes trained ‎on the performance before her.‎ Her eyes were entreated to a young man, sitting near the front of the restaurant and playing ‎his cello. While he was not the most skilled player she had heard, he was by no means ‎terrible, and the music he was playing – though not technically accurate – was heartfelt and ‎melancholic. The emotion, the wine she was imbuing and ultimately, the quite fair looks of ‎the man made her a lot less critical than she otherwise would have been.‎ The music he was playing, though, irritated her. It was slow and quite melancholic, and ‎though it was not beautiful, she had not just ended a tiring journey to be regaled with ‎depressing music. She wanted something cheerful, upbeat, something her heart could be ‎warmed by. She focused on that thought, focused on the man before her and exerted her ‎will and pushed out her thoughts. Her wants would be satisfied, or there would be one very ‎unhappy Kila in their midst.‎

[Julian]

70th Day of Spring, 511 AV The inn had grown to feel like a second home to Julian. The low light was always comfortable and soothing, the decorations were pleasing, and the servers had grown to know him by name. Every day he woke here, and returned here at the end of the evening if ever he left. Still, he was beginning to suspect that he was wearing out his welcome. The Shooting Star Inn was not for permanent residents, and Julian had been taking up one of its rooms for quite some time. Lhavit was a beautiful, intriguing city, but if he sought out a more permanent residence here, he might never leave. Despite his fondness for the place, he hadn't left Syliras just to find somewhere else to relocate. It was coming time to move on. Admittedly, he had no real plan of action. No marked destination, no well-defined purpose. When he boarded the ship out of Syliras, he said his goodbyes to the life he'd spent there. He had learned the cello, lost his parents, spent his latter childhood in an orphanage, married a beautiful woman, acquired and dropped some terrible habits, and even had children, in a sense. When Liara died, it felt as though the Syliran in Julian had died as well. He was comparatively young, but one might argue that he had already been through a lifetime of experiences. Now he was ready for something new. Or maybe he just wanted to see the world. It might have even been as insipid as a quest for self-discovery. He wasn't entirely sure, but he was certain that even if he couldn't define it, he knew he was following his heart. It was the 70th day of Spring, and Julian had been in Lhavit far too long. It wasn't as if there was any good reason he'd stayed this long. Since arriving in the city, he had made a few acquaintances, a few friends, bought a new cello and become a bit better at it, gained a knife named Hagiri - "Burden" - and there had even been a woman who'd rekindled something in his heart that he thought was long frozen over. Most remarkably, Julian had taken another man's life. If something was destined to happen in Lhavit, it certainly already had done. This yearning to linger was nothing more than his own personal weakness. Julian had found it was easiest to think, and more importantly relax, as he played his cello for the inn's patrons. Although he knew he was no master at the instrument, he didn't fear judgment. He didn't play to impress anyone, it was merely the easiest way for him to share himself with strangers, strangers who wouldn't even realizing what they were sharing in (though in all honesty, the coin he got for it was nice too). He stuck to familiar Syliran songs he'd played a thousand times over - nothing overly complicated, but compelling melodies all the same. However, even if it was Julian's favorite, the cello was not a very colorful instrument. The music was always beautiful and deep, but almost always overtly somber. That was no problem for him, but some people did find it depressing. When the blonde walked into the inn, of course Julian noticed her. With the room as empty as it was, the woman - clearly a foreigner - stood out more than the others. He naturally took interest in other travelers, as he shared something in common with them. But soon enough, Julian's mind was on other things. She looked irksome and irritable anyway. Women were hard enough to please when they weren't as willfully difficult as that one looked. Reaching a crescendo in a piece appropriately titled We Embark, Julian turned his attention to the fingerboard, his other hand tensing its grip on his bow. Though the rest of the song was slow and sad (most songs about departure tend to be), this specific part required a brief but fast set of chord and note changes to symbolize the conflicted emotions of the songwriter's story - of loss, and also freedom of burden. As his fingers delicately pressed down upon the strings up and down the fingerboard under the careful watch of his gray eyes, he began to realize that - although he didn't falter - he wasn't playing the notes he had intended to. In the middle of the song, right as he reached the crescendo, he had drastically changed the cello's melody into something lighter, and airy. He was suddenly playing a song he'd performed a few nights ago, When the Hard Rain Comes, and oddly jovial folk song about an impending storm. It sounded better in A minor, but he played its proper C scale, giving the song a happier appeal. It sounded unnatural on the cello, but stirring among the inn's audience seemed to indicate that the Shooting Star's patrons didn't mind it. Some were even amused. That was odd. Julian had no intention of playing that song, or even changing songs at all. Had he been distracted? No, of course not, he'd actually been concentrating in that moment. Shaking his head at himself in bewilderment, he began to dismiss the entire thought as a random and harmless slip. Perhaps he was just tired. Putting on a bemused smile, he shot a glance out to the inn's guests and shrugged helplessly. Then... wait. Julian caught the eyes of that blonde woman again. She was staring directly at him, wearing an oddly smug look on her face. Something about her didn't sit with him quite right. The musician stared at her candidly, his smile fading quickly as he studied her face. He began to wonder... had she possibly...? No. That was paranoid. The thought that she somehow influenced his music would never have occurred to him if he weren't a novice Hypnotist. Its practitioners were far from common - it would be exceedingly rare to run into another Hypnotist by sheer chance - let alone one of any remarkable level of skill. Still... the thought had been planted, and no matter how he tried to convince himself of how unlikely it was, it wouldn't quite go away. Deciding to play this new song to its finish, Julian continued to gently saw his bow on the cello as he watched her. It might have been rude to keep his eyes so directly trained on her, but he didn't care. He was curious as to how she'd react to his scrutiny. She looked like a shrewd enough woman, the sort who didn't appreciate that kind of disrespect. Either she'd scoff at him and grow frustrated - which might indicate that he was getting all worked up for nothing. Or she might be intrigued that he was onto her. Dull fantasies in an idle mind, perhaps, but the night was young, and he had little else to do. At the very least, she was passably pretty enough that he wouldn't mind any brand of attention she'd give him. If Lhavit wanted to send him off with a warm farewell gift, he'd have no complaints.

[Ophelia]

Languages : This is Lhavitian. This is Common. Kila smiled an exceedingly smug smile as she focused her grin, her eyes, and her focus onto ‎the man before her, the exceedingly suave looking young man with the cello. Not only was ‎this to be an exercise in hypnotism and the skills she possesed, but he was rather easy on the ‎eyes, too. This certainly made the exercise much more smooth and enjoyable than it ‎otherwise would have been. Her ego was being stroked with the skill that she was exuding, ‎her eyes were entreated to the lovely visual feast before her and her ears were now ‎beginning to be assailed by the very music she was determined to listen to.‎ She herself recognised the music that the man had begun to play. It was debatable whether ‎or not this man was Lhavitian; he certainly looked like a mix of cultures, and seemed ‎comfortable on the stage of the Shooting Star. It was obviously a place that he was ‎comfortable in, and familiar with. But the music that he played, which he played with feeling ‎‎(and sure, that feeling was slightly prodded along by her…), was from the town – if one could ‎call it that – of Syliras. The music before had undoubtedly been pretty, but she had no ‎patience for those who wallowed in melancholia. The man seemed to be slightly surprised to ‎find himself playing something of joviality. He took a few moments to adjust to what he was ‎playing, shaking his head in bewilderment and then looking sheepishly out amongst the child.‎ Then his eyes caught Kila’s.‎ Her grin was not subtle, not even remotely. She grinned at him, widely, and winked, reaching ‎up to take a dainty sip of her wine. She shifted slightly as the waiters of the establishment ‎began to bustle around her, placing down the steaming plate of Lhavitian rice and meat, and ‎all the while her eyes remained fixed on the cellist. She never once looked away, her smile ‎knowingly, and a consistent grin on her face. She did not mind him knowing it was her; she ‎had not expelled much effort. If she was really trying, he would not even be aware that it was ‎not his decision. Besides, it was kind of fun knowing that he knew she had manipulated him, ‎and there was nothing he could even do about it.‎ She raised her wineglass towards him, as if saluting his performance, and she could not help ‎but release a loud chuckle. The waiters still edging away from her, and the elderly couple at ‎the next table, looked dubiously towards her, but she could not find it within herself to care. ‎She began to spoon the dinner into her mouth, still listening to the music. She waited for the ‎song to end, enjoying however long the cellist decided to regale her with his musical ability – ‎though her eyes remained fixed on him, as if a reminder to play what she wanted.‎ When he was done, and it was up to him to decide when he chose to acknowledge Kila’s ‎stare, she stood up abruptly and began to applaud excessively. “Well done!” she cried in ‎Lhavitian, smiling at him, her hands raised in front of her face and she bowed slightly from ‎the waist. She had had some encounter with the city, it seemed, as shown through her near-‎accentless pronounciation of Lhavitian, and through her acknowledgement of the bowing ‎custom. Still standing, she picked up her wineglass, and just before she sipped, she ‎murmured again, though loud enough for him to hear - “Well done,” – though this time in ‎Common, and it seemed as if the husky, intimate whisper was only for him.‎ She sat down again, and waited for the cellist to decide what he wished to do. She would wait ‎for him to play as long as he wanted, or he could end the repertoire now. Either way, she ‎would be there to talk to him when she was done. It was dubious as to whether or not talking ‎was on her mind. Whatever the reason, and to Julian it would be unfathomable, she had ‎targeted him. And she would not leave him alone until he did that same for her.‎

[Julian]

Julian could not help but stare at this woman. She was a spectacle, to him, and to the other people at the Shooting Star. The servers seemed almost afraid of her, and the other patrons were either staring uneasily, or trying very hard not to. None of this seemed to bother the blonde at all - all of her attention was focused sharply on Julian, or so it appeared. Being often the center of attention as an amateur performer, Julian was prone to making brash assumptions about what people thought of him in that context. All of this might have simply just been invented in his head - perhaps he'd been drinking too much. But he didn't think so. As he finished the song, he tore his attention away from the blonde foreigner long enough to bow his head gratefully at a polite round of light clapping. That was enough music for now. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, he he'd decided to investigate this matter a little further. That was the point of all this, wasn't it? One doesn't simply leave Syliras on a whim and travel halfway across the world to become shut out and indifferent. Standing up from his seat, Julian walked his cello to the nearby wall and propped the instrument up, weaving his bow between its strings. Brushing the hair out of his face, he busied himself gently adjusting his ponytail as he made his way toward the blonde's table, thinking to mask his approach in nonchalance. He began to think himself silly for wondering whether this woman could be a Hypnotist. Julian was only frustrated from some semi-recent events - he was just looking to distract himself. Well, the distraction was welcome. Reaching Kila's table, Julian bowed slightly in greeting, as per Lhavitian custom. He rested his hand on the back of a chair, slipping his other hand casually in his pocket. Julian was not solidly built by any means, but he was certainly tall, if nothing else. "Thank you," he replied to the woman in his native Common, putting on a cautious, but warm smile. "Really, I'm not all that good. I just enjoy playing. I'm grateful to have an audience that doesn't pelt me with rotten vegetables." Julian turned and waved over a waiter. "A glass of water with lemon, if you could?" The waiter nodded and rushed off. Briefly, Julian had thought of ordering wine, but if he were going to solve this woman's mystery, he wanted to keep a clear head. Besides, he could use a little sodding moderation. "My name is Julian. Do you mind if I join you? My hands are aching from playing all night and I could use a break." It was a lie. He hadn't been playing all that long, but it was a good front. There was no telling whether the woman would stay very long if he ignored her. If she left without Julian figuring out exactly what her story was, it would be a sore disappointment. "Pardon me if I sound rude, but you don't look like you're from around here. I'm from Syliras, myself."

[Ophelia]

Kila was still standing, a soft smirk on her face, while Julian made his way over to her. The smirk was there for several reasons - the most major being the way in which he busied himself with his appearance as he strode gently over to her. It was an exceedingly poor attempt at nonchalance. She still noticed every movement of his, every twist of his fingers parting his long hair as he made his way over, her eyes continually fixed on him. There was no way his 'nonchalance' would make her any less alert in her focus. Kila's smile only broadened when Julian arrived at her table. Her eyes followed his form as his upper half inclined towards her in a respectful, Lhavitian bow. She didn't reciprocate. Instead, her hand rose and fluttered slightly, as if acknowledging him for the respect and thanking him briefly - but she was too significant to really return the favour. It was true - she certainly thought so, anyway, and it was clear in the way she held her body, upright and strong, despite the long travel she had undergone, though Julian was not yet aware of such. Her eyebrow raised slightly as he leaned against the back of the chair, surprised by his presumption. Though she supposed she had been the one to practically invite him over, she still expected a certain level of respect for his betters. She didn't voice such, though. "Not at all," she murmured, her voice high and feminine, though smooth like butter. "You are very skilled, and surely you know such. Not many people can secure employment at the Shining Star Inn for their music. And what, you're being paid four kina a day? Very well done." A soft grin appeared here, as if she was waiting to see what Julian thought of what she said. She uttered one more teasing statement. "I especially enjoyed that perky number you just played. How did you know that is precisely what I felt like?" When Julian had turned back to her, away from the waiter, he would see her sitting comfortably on her chair again, her white skirts spread ethereally out behind her. With her soft facial features, lilting voice and immaculate appearance, she seemed to be too high class for this establishment. "No wine?" she asked, as if prodding him to see his reaction. "But surely you have a weakness for wine..." She looked at him hard, for a moment, to see if that would garner any emotion, before she made as if to cover up that 'mistake'. "I mean, doesn't everyone?" Her eyes twinkling, focused on Julian's, she took a long draught of the Lhavitian wine. She gestured to the opposite seat when he asked, placing the wine glass down carefully. "Yes, hello Julian." The way she said it made it sound as if the name simply rolled off her tongue. "A very nice name. I am Kila." That was all she offered. Just 'Kila'. She said the name so flippantly one could not be sure it meant anything in particular. The introduction certainly was brief. As was her next description of her background. "I'm not from around here; I'm not really from around anywhere." Then, suddenly, with ease of skill and practice, she turned the conversation again. "Syliras, you say? And what is it like, there? I imagine you had a wife there... perhaps children? A father? What could one be doing in Lhavit, then, if one had all that back home?" Her eyes were suddenly dark, and focused. The pupil was narrowed to the point where it focused solely on Julian. Kila was not willing to discuss her history, but apparently was all too willing to talk about Julian.

[Julian]

Julian smiled politely and gave a brief nod as the blonde confidently allowed him to sit at her table. From the start, he could see she had a way about her - she was indomitably confident about herself. It shown in her movements, and played in her smooth, silken voice. It was easily intriguing to the musician - women were often disappointingly shy or insecure. It was refreshing to meet one who wasn't, or at least it usually was. While it should have been a pleasant quality to her, Julian only found himself uneasy. It felt as if he'd joined a lion in its cage. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen when she mentioned Julian's exact pay rate for playing at the Inn. Just how exactly could she know that? Had he boorishly mentioned it in his introduction? No... he was sure that he hadn't. Julian wouldn't be that tactless. Well, HOW then? Perhaps the woman had asked the servers, or spoken to the owner. She handled herself as though she'd been here before, even if she looked foreign and Julian had never seen her before. Perhaps Julian's pay was a common rate for most of the workers here. Of course, Julian could have asked how she'd know, but he couldn't help but think that confirming or denying his salary would put him at a conversational disadvantage. The mystery would remain unsolved, no matter how many explanations he invented in his head, but he wouldn't ask. He just tilted his head to the side very slightly and lifted an eyebrow. She had to know that any assumption about his earnings was rude, regardless. "To be honest, I played that song entirely by mistake," Julian admitted. She was clearly toying with him, it was becoming obvious now. He interpreted it as flirtatious, and took it as a compliment. As it so seldom happened, it was flattering when a woman took a more active interest in him. He was using to make approaches himself. "I wasn't concentrating very well as I was playing, and I think I'd confused the crescendos in two entirely separate songs. What I ended with is an old Syliran lullaby. Rather dark one, for how cheery it sounded. I don't really care for folk music, but it's easy to play." That was the explanation he'd already come up with in his head, and it was further confirmed by the girl. Or it should have been. Something just didn't sit right with him about her. He added a playful smile. "Though I had been wondering why you had seemed so interested in my playing. You must have distracted me. For a moment I'd almost thought... well, never mind my half-tired rambling." After ordering, the woman again toyed with him by asking another strangely poignant question. Again, he had no response for her, only able to slowly crane his neck to face her. Julian could only watch her warily as he took his seat, his gray eyes filled will wonder and apprehension beyond his ability to mask it. She must have been in here before to know that about him. It was evident enough. Or... perhaps it was harmless small talk, an expression of opinionated taste. Still, coupled with what she'd said earlier... he was beginning to feel more than uneasy. By now he was certainly uncomfortable. Still, he found himself rooted here. He had to know why this woman was playing games with him - or if he was just imagining all this. The waiter soon returned with Julian's glass of water. He thanked the man quietly, then picked up his wedge of lemon and squeezed out is juices to flavor his mild drink. Kila gave her name, and he tipped his drink to her in acknowledgement. The light, lemony flavor of his cold beverage was refreshing, at least. He took another large drink as she remarked on her origins. A playful, interesting answer. If only everything else about here weren't so unnerving. Then she began to guess at his family. When Kila suddenly remarked on children, it was on that word that Julian choked as he was drinking his water. He leaned forward and grabbed lightly at his neck as he coughed suddenly, taking a few moments to collect himself. WHAT had she said?! Now he knew something was amiss here. These couldn't be cute, aimless guesses. Julian was no longer afraid of overreacting, or that he was imagining things. He'd known her for all of two minutes, and she was already making this personal. He did not approve. Julian set his glass of water on the table with a loud clatter. "What did you say?!" he demanded, his eyes narrowing. "What exactly are you playing at? 'Kila,' was it? Do I know you? Have we met? If not, I certainly am not appreciating these assumptions you're making about me. Are you a mind reader, or something? Is this some kind of game you play with people for a laugh?" Julian rose to his feet, making as if he were about to leave. "I'm not some pawn for you to manipulate. I have better things to do than to be toyed with by the likes of you."

[Ophelia]

Kila could not help but laugh when he choked on his drink, a trilling sound, one that seemed to be excessively feminine. As she laughed, her eyes twinkled, and many heads turned towards her with a sappy look. It was if she were entrancing those around her just with a laugh. Even Julian would feel a brief moment of admiration, of pure appreciation for Kila's existance - though the moment ended when the laugh did. But then he began to talk on and on about her, demanding to know things that he didn't really have a right to know and had no inclination of telling him. She sighed. How droll, how irritating. She hadn't expected him to over react. Where was the subtle battle of wits she wanted? Why was this such a let down? She had expected more of him, expected more and was now disappointed that she had not gained such. She began to look down, picking at her nails and sighing loudly and irritatingly as he spoke. When he finished speaking, she looked up with raised eyebrows and a disapproving look on her face. "Are you done talking now, love? Good." There was no tone of adoration in her voice, despite calling him 'love'. It was a word riddled with condescension and patronisation. "Why does all that matter, hrrmm?" It was a question that surely Julian had not expected. "I know things. Perhaps the Gods told me. Perhaps I have been in the shadows your entire life. Perhaps neither of these are true." Suddenly her eyes focused, and her voice turned from disinterested to malicious, leaning forward on the table, her face dangerously close. "But I know things nonetheless. I have no intention of telling you how, and will do whatever I can to make you do what I want. The Shinya are only a few steps away, Julian Meredith, and I can summon them like that." She clicked her fingers at the end of that sentence. She uttered one more thing, quietly,before leaning back. "Perhaps you do have better things to do than be my pawn, but you don't really have a choice, do you?" Suddenly her face transformed, and her smile was lovely and ladylike yet again. This chameleon of a woman was surely a baffle. Those who had been watching the exchange had been confused by the sudden tension and malevolence she had held, but she turned and sent them a sparkling grin - and they all turned away again, finding a sudden interest in their own dinners. She sent a wink towards Julian. "Yes, Julian my love. Hypnotism. Would you like to practice your own with me? I would love an apprentice." She leaned back in the chair, a picture of ease. She knew there was no real chance of him running off on her, and if there was... well, she could disappear into the shadows again anytime she wanted.

[Julian]

The dining floor of the Shooting Star was the same as it always was - comfortably lit, quiet, calm, and filled with an atmosphere of contentment and complacency. Under the string lights, the Inn's servers routed their way through the tables and people enjoying their peaceful dinners and conversation - travelers and Lhavitians alike. Many of them were dimly aware of the mild commotion brewing between Kila and Julian, but it was a strange disturbance at most. No one could really be aware of the reality of the situation. To Julian, there was no Inn. He stood there in front of Kila, frozen in place by sheer disbelief as the woman talked. Again grabbing the back of the chair he'd been sitting in, he stared at her wide-eyed. A twinge of fear was overshadowed by a sudden wave of rage, shown by the way he'd begun digging his fingernails into the wood of the chair. Kila wasn't toying with him out of impersonal spite - she wanted something from him. She had specifically learned this information about him and targeted him for something. The nerve of her! Just who did she think she was! Before Kila pointed out the nearby Shinya, who had already been keeping a wary eye on their table, Julian had every intention of grabbing her by the arm, pulling her to her feet, and demanding to know just what the petch she wanted from him. And if he had decided on wine, he may not have had the wherewithal to practice that sort of caution and civility. However, being sober, he knew better. It took every ounce of strength he had to keep himself calm, but he did it. She knew. She knew everything about him. About his father, his wife, his alcoholism, his last name, his... his children? How?! Who could she possibly have talked to to learn any of that?! Sure, a few people knew this or that, but Julian rarely poured his entire life story out to one single person! Though, how likely could be that Kila had some sort of divining gift? Call it paranoia, but he truly wanted to think she must have sought him out for some reason, went behind his back to learn all this. But there was no reason for that. She was... yes. She was a Hypnotist. If she learned any of that, it wasn't because she wanted to taunt him with his past. There could be nothing to gain from that. She learned that so she could control him, because she knew what he was. Because she was a Hypnotist, and she was very, very good. Kila had planned this, she must have. She knew she had the upper hand, meeting Julian in a public place, surrounded by witnesses and Shinya. If Julian did anything, he'd be arrested. Worse, if Kila really WAS as good as she seemed, she could easily use Hypnotism to charm anyone into thinking Julian was the Hypnotist. That wouldn't have mattered much, except he hadn't registered at the Koten Temple. That was liable to keep Julian in Lhavit FAR longer than he wanted to be, and in much darker circumstances. This woman was absolutely serious. She held his fate in his hands, right there. Damn her, if she wanted to, she could end it all. Julian by now was quivering with rage. He even had to pull his eyes off her to close them, and focus himself on quelling a temper he thought he'd left behind years ago. Of all things, Julian did not enjoy these insipid mind games. Punch him, steal his money, insult his music playing, he could handle any of it. But toy with him... that crossed a line. She wanted an apprentice. Gods abound... an APPRENTICE! He opened his eyes again and stared at her incredulously, as if she'd just told him she was a polka-dotted narwhal. No, it couldn't be that simple. Her intentions couldn't be at all pure. Hypnotists like her were the reason people disliked the practice in general. People who used it to further their own goals, for their own gain and regardless of anyone else. Yet... he was still such a novice. If she had something to teach... if she was offering... No. She couldn't be trusted. This lure was just a part of her game. He was certain of it. Julian knew enough about the art to figure out that much. "I am not..." Not what? Not a Hypnotist? She already knew that he was, or she wouldn't have sought him out. "I am not your love. Secondly, if you know me as well as you say you do, you should already know I have no qualms at all about hitting a woman, and if those Shinya guards weren't there..." A mad smile came on him before he shook it off disgusted with himself. After a moment of thought, he gave Kila a very angle chuckle. Best keep happy faces or the Shinya just might decide to investigate after all. He kept his voice level and calm, but he couldn't force it to be cheerful. "You're lying to me. Don't take me for a fool. If all you wanted was an apprentice, you could have simply asked. If you were trying to impress me, you've missed your mark. Woman, you have severely pissed me off. I'll go along with this, for now, because I have no choice. But I warn you, Kila, you are playing with fire. You have no idea." Neither did he, honestly, but he had his guesses. Still, the threat sounded genuine enough. And just maybe, once they were away from prying eyes and curious guardsmen, he'd make good on it.

[Ophelia]

Kila was strangely and excessively amused by his rant. The longer and more angry his monologue went, the larger and more manic her smile became. It was almost as if he was fueling the smile, the amusement, the emotion in Kila. The more angry he became the more she achieved her goal. Making people angry was, to put it frankly, quite fun. "Awww," she sighed, depressed, as soon as his explosion was done. Nothing was left in him but simmering coals of a used up anger. "That's depressing, I would have loved to have been your love." She flashed a cheeky grin. Prodding, playful Kila was back. She was a far cry from the one that mere chimes before had threatened and provoked Julian in such a sinister way. It was intense, the way she seemed to shift and change faces and emotions so quickly. To anyone else, it would have seemed a dizzying change. To Julian, it would only serve to enforce his distrust the more. "Julian, Julian, Julian. We are to be friends, no? You needn't be so dramatic," she laughed, shaking her head. The irony. "I am not lying. It pains me that you should accuse me of such! I merely am very lonely after long travels, and want someone I can pass my extensive knowledge of the craft onto. Of course, I am lying about not lying." She took a long swig of her wine. "Oh, and I shall be careful about the whole 'playing with fire' thing, my dear. Heaven knows I am clearly intimidated by you. I might get a cello over my head, and then where would we be?" Grinning, she suddenly stood up. The movement was quick and unsuspected, but she managed to do it with surprising grace. "I do believe it is bedtime. Alas, tonight you have not earned the right to join me, but perhaps if you work hard, no?" She began to walk over to the stairs. "My room is right next to yours," she called over her shoulder. "Courtesy of the lovely staff here. I'll be in your room a bell after dusk, dear boy! Sleep well!" And with that last final cry, she disappeared up the stairs.

[Julian]

An incredible seething for this woman quietly boiled in Julian's veins as he watched Kila and listened her spew her coy venom. He remained frozen in place, not moving at all. It was already all he could do not to simply strangle the woman until she pleaded with him to let go - if he so much as shifted his balance to the other fit, he might inadvertently lash out and slap her across the face accidentally. Wait, what was he thinking? Those thoughts were alarmingly violent. Julian had gotten sick at the fact that he'd killed a vicious murderer not a few days ago, and now already he was having no trouble considering the prospect of beating a woman. What the petch was wrong with him? This was all too much. He had been in this city too long. He needed to leave, refresh his mind. Julian knew how to put on a tough front and take life one day at a time, but the reality was that he still needed time before he could fully recover from the trauma of last winter. Even if he could fool himself for months at a time, he knew his mind wasn't right yet. It wouldn't be for years. Maybe it wouldn't ever heal. Julian let the woman talk without interjecting his own reply. He had nothing to say to her. As she suddenly got to her feet, Julian only reacted by flinching backwards, which was immediately embarrassing. It didn't make much of a difference to him. He had already been thoroughly humiliated tonight - a little more didn't really mean anything at all. He watched the woman leave, glaring daggers into her back until she was gone. Her room was next to his? She had planned this, then. This just wasn't right. Why would anyone seek him out? Was it someone Liara knew? Perhaps an accuser, thinking Julian her murderer? That would be fascinating. Sighing privately, Julian brought a hand to his face, rubbing his forehead and pushing back his hair. He couldn't think about this clearly right now. He was much too angry. There wasn't much he could do except carefully observe the woman and tread very, very carefully. And he'd be sure to carry Hagiri on him at all times. Shaking his head, Julian finally uprooted his feet, turning around and heading back to pick up his cello. One of the servers said something to him, possibly about his water, but he wasn't listening and he didn't stop to ask him to repeat it. Julian simply ignored him as he picked up his instrument and made his way toward the stairs. Reaching his room, he shut the door behind him and leaned his cello up against the wall. Julian swept a hand over his hair, smoothly removing his hair tie as his fingers reached the back of his head. He moved across the room, tossing the ribbon onto the provided table along with his father's journal and his dead wife's wedding ring. Tying his hair back, interestingly enough, held a certain meaning to Julian. He knew he looked so very much like his father, whom he despised. With his hair let down, he was very nearly a splitting image. And while he dealt with this incorrigible woman, perhaps it was the image he wanted to convey. Julian removed his vest and let it fall to the floor, keeping his undershirt as he fell onto his bed. If he woke up, and none of this wasn't a dream, he was going to need to be well-rested to handle this all very carefully.