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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | A breeze of moist air touched Sorsha’s face as she stood by the ship’s ramp looking out towards the horizon. Her men were slowly marching onto the ship that was to take them to Paisly, each nodding to her as they passed her by. She never said anything, she simply kept her focus away from them and away from the City she was leaving behind, if only for a short time.
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| − | Sitting at her feet was her Ocelot always as near to her as it could get. She didn’t have to look to see him there she could simply feel his presence. It watched as each man walked by, occasionally looking up at her. She had not named him yet, but she would soon.
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| − | Already it had grown quite large, its paws did not look so large on his small body, and his fur had acquired a few new spots and swirls that gave his coat a nice beautiful pattern. His once bright blue eyes had changed color to a darker blue. The insecurity he had once displayed around people was slowly changing as well, she made sure of it. Since she suffered from insomnia she had taken the time of night to train him as she had seen her family do countless times with horses, only his training was of a slightly different nature. Should she need him, she knew he would protect her as well.
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| − | The last man boarded the ship and her cat mewled at her, as if telling her it was time to go. “Yes… let’s leave...” apart from his meow the cat had been incredibly still but upon her words, he bounded as quick as lightning and a smile adorned her face. “Lasair…” At the word the cat turned to look at her, as if waiting. “Yes… that is a perfect name for you.”
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | It was the middle of the night, most of her men were either asleep or taking a moment with the rest of the crew. Their loud laughter and merry humor could be heard from where Sorsha stood but she ignored it.
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| − | Leaning on the rail, she looked up to the stars, the blackness of the night only adding to her mood, the stars had always given her a glimmer of hope but they didn’t reach her like they used to.
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| − | Lasair was at her feet, braving the moistness and the constant rocking and occasional spray of dampness to be near her – She welcomed the company, she would have welcome any company when it came to her self induced, sleepless state.
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| − | She wondered if she should seek Marquis Rathan… It was in her head to go, but her feet remained planted where they were. He was most likely asleep as well…
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | Rathan wasn't asleep. He was restless, and sat in the shadows, sharpening his blades, breathing in the cool night air. He felt anxious about what lay ahead. He had heard stories of what was happening abroad, and he didn't like it one bit. He had to wonder too, why the sudden urge to get him to go out on a military campaign? He didn't like it, not one bit.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha took in her last breath of fresh air and made her way to the rooms below. Lasair bounded to his feet, shook his wet fur and ran up to her legs. Walking down below, the steady creaking of the ship filled the air. Her breathing quickened as she neared her room, a dark room that was filled with nightmares. As she neared she suddenly stopped, her feet refusing to move any closer and her ocelot looked up with fluorescent eyes as if wondering what she was doing. She turned to see she was standing before Rathan’s door and her hand tightened into a fist.
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| − | She must have stood before it for a good while until she finally raised her hand to knock on it. “Marquis Rathan…” she whispered his name, at least hoping if he was asleep she wouldn’t wake him, but if by some strange luck he was awake, he would be the only one to hear her.
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| − | She bit her lip and waited.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | Rathan put a hand on her shoulder, having followed her back to his quarters.
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| − | "What can I do for you Lady Sorsha?"
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | As Rathan’s hand touched her shoulder, she flinched and closed her eyes slowly. She had not expected him to be behind her at all.
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| − | Turning to face him, she leaned on his room door and sighed. “I could not sleep, and I took the chance hoping you may be up. I wanted…” she bit her lip and her eyes searched his face. The dark mesmerizing mysterious eyes drew her in. “Could you not sleep either?”
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | Rathan shook his head slowly.
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| − | "I hate traveling by sea. You'd figure I'd get used to it... However I haven't. No rest for the wicked they say."
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| − | Rathan said, winking.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | At his wink, Sorsha looked down to notice Lasair had positioned himself between her and Rathan, as if guarding her.
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| − | She looked over to her door, and back to Rathan. “No… no rest for the wicked. Would you mind some company?” she asked hoping he would take her up on it. “We should be arriving shortly, unless you wanted to be alone. I will leave.”
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | Rathan's grin widened.
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| − | "I never turn down good company. Come inside, enough standing out here."
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| − | Rathan fumbled in his pocket for his key, and unlocked the door.
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| − | "After you m'lady."
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha walked in ahead of him and Lasair followed between them. His quarters weren’t lit and she stood in the darkness for a moment, and then light filled the room. Her black leathers shone slightly adding a tinge of blue. There wasn’t much room to sit had she wanted to, one small chair attached to the floor and a small bed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
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| − | “How have you been?” she asked, waiting for him to sit.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | Rathan entered, closing the door behind him, admiring her figure.
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| − | "I've been well, all things considered. And how have you been my dear?"
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| − | Rathan pulled out two wine glasses from his things, and a bottle of wine. He set them on the night stand, and sat on the bed. He gestured for her to sit as well.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha looked over to the glasses and bottle with curiosity. “You never leave unprepared, do you Milord?”
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| − | At his question, her brow furrowed slightly. Taking the chair facing him, she sat crossing her legs. Lasair rubbed up against her and curled up at her feet. She removed her gloves and set them on the night stand beside her glass of wine.
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| − | “I still breathe” she answered him softly, as if that should be enough.
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| − | “My days grow longer into the night, as you can see,” she motioned to herself. It would have been obvious to anyone who looked. Her once flawless skin had slowly changed to be complimented with a hint of dark bluish circles beneath her eyes. Her once clear gaze appeared dazed lacking alertness.
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| − | Maybe… she could find an alternative to sleep, something to keep her mind so preoccupied she wouldn’t feel she missed it so. Or something to make her sleep so profoundly even the nightmares couldn’t touch her. She idly wondered if such a thing existed, herbs, dark magick? Would such Magick even exist? Would it be so inconceivable? Maybe she had been going about it all wrong, maybe she could see about searching out an Apothecary who would carry such merchandise… something to numb the insanity within her….numb her mind.
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| − | She blinked, remembering where she was and her gaze focused on him once more. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “My mind wanders so…” She looked around to the room to find something to talk about, but she had nothing. Instead she forced a smile upon her face, waiting for him to say something.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | Rathan put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
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| − | "No worries. Trouble sleeping is it? I might have just the solution. Had a bout not too long ago where I couldn't sleep. My healer made a concoction and it put me right out. I've since improved it. Sleep like you're dead, no dreams, nothing."
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha felt the heat of his hand on her shoulder but didn’t move. It was as if Rathan had read her mind and she opened her mouth slowly. “You have such a thing?” she whispered, “but such a thing must come at an incredible price… and I’m not referring to gold,” she added. Then she cocked her head, “what caused you to lose sleep in the first place?”
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | "I'm sure we can come up with a mutually beneficial agreement over the exchange of what I have left of my sleep tonic, and the manufacture of anymore... Which is a dangerous process, for in the final stages it becomes rather... Volatile."
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| − | Rathan couldn't take his eyes off of her, and continued.
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| − | "It's a long story really. I came across things that no mortal man should. Its how I got these."
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| − | Rathan said, gesturing towards the markings on his forehead, which resembled three eyes.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | “A mutual agreement,” she repeated, wondering what he could be thinking. She wondered if this would solve her problem, or if the insanity would simply visit her throughout the day as it already had in the Royal Palace after reading from Duchess Kisharianda’s book. “Volatile…” she murmured, more in reference to herself than the actual potion.
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| − | At his next words, her blue violet eyes looked up. Sorsha had noticed the markings recalling them from after his duel with Mathias. She had never pointed them out, or been made to speak of it before now. Reaching in, she lightly touched his forehead. “What do they signify?” she asked him softly.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | "Its a designation of rank and profession... In the Zuma culture anyway. One is the lowest, five is the highest."
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| − | Rathan moved his hand off her shoulder, slowly, and wrapped his arm around her, enjoying her warmth.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | “The Zuma, yes I have heard of them.” She looked up to his forehead again and lowered her hand, “and you have three.”
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| − | She did notice his arm around her, but she didn’t move to remove it, instead she took up the forgotten wine and handed him his glass. “And what exactly is this profession?” she smirked and took a small sip.
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| − | “Does it include charming women, lulling their senses with your words and mesmerizing eyes…” she looked into them and continued, “the mystery that surrounds you, the excitement one gets from your presence…” she paused and bit her lip. “Lust?” she added the last softly.
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| − | She had felt something from her encounter with Hexic…had enjoyed it immensely in fact. Was this another answer to the dilemma she had become? She moved as close to him as she could get and looked deeply into his eyes. “Or are you just a dangerous man,” she deadpanned.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | Rathan grinned in a sinister fashion as he took a sip of his wine.
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| − | "Danger is the profession dear, if you haven't noticed. Everything else that comes along with it is just..."
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| − | Rathan paused, and sipped his wine, letting the pause hang.
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| − | "A perk."
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | At his last words she laughed roguishly and took another drink. Setting her glass on the table, she then leaned her head back and rolled her shoulders, her head ached and she started undoing her tight long braid. This tired, the wine hit her fully, harder than usual and she lay back onto the bed, staring up. She felt light headed and closed her eyes for only a moment.
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| − | “A perk,” she repeated and laughed again. “Oh yes...” She looked to the side at him and smiled. "Always full of surprises you are. How did you come across the Zuma, dangerous man?"
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| − | '''Roleplay from Hexic Jeckyl'''
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| − | Hexic stood on the ramparts, staring out into the blue ocean, in the direction of Sallowtown. The cool breeze, and the sounds of the water churning calmed him, and cleared his head. Rather handy to fight a hangover. The Duke came here everyday since his recovery, while he was home anyway. The wound Mathias had left caused him discomfort most of the time, but never while he stood on this spot.
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| − | Only a short time ago Dominik Stublic had set out for Sallowtown, so he could travel to the East Continent. Hexic had known for days of his decision, and had tried to convince him to stay. He had failed. He had failed to influence his own knight.
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| − | He turned his attention to the ocean and gazed upon its beauty. Not long ago Sorsha must have gazed upon a similar sight, which Hexic had to admit, was rather breathtaking. Ah, Sorsha McDowell. He had spent years in D'Hara and had never met her, until a short time ago. He had been attracted to her, and he was sure she was attracted to him. Now, he understood that they also thought alike. That morning he had asked for a scout report on Paisly, concerned about the rogue forces that had fought there. Not long after the Royal Fiduciary had provided it, she had expressed the same thoughts he was thinking.
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| − | And also, Duchess Nightling had tried to assassinate a noble serving her. It made no sense, and he didn't like it. Given the proximity of the situation, it was all the worse. In a blink of an eye the D'Haran troops in Paisland may find themselves caught in the middle of a civil war, or worse.
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| − | Duke Hexic contemplated these three things over and over, seeking answers. By the time he returned inside, he was standing in full shadow of the Lighthouse.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | "After the realm of Viridian fell, I found myself without a home. I wandered for some time, through the dangerous and unoccupied lands of the West. I found a large Volcano, and around it were many, many Daimons. Winged beasts, completely unintelligent. I went to Nightmarch, the neighboring city and was introduced to the Zuma by a curious woman, whose name I forget."
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| − | Rathan paused as if trying to remember.
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| − | "Well, anyway, I was brought before the chief of the Zuma... A terrible Daimon lord known as Vates. His power vast beyond imagining. We talked for some time... He answered some of my questions on Daimonkind, and I answered some of his on mankind. I received the first eye that day. The other two simply... Appeared... I am at a loss for how to explain it."
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | At that she frowned lightly and bit her lip. “I see…” Moving, she lay on her side to rest her head into her hand, watching him. “My brother has had a similar fate,” she admitted. “But he was completely consumed by the Netherworld… never to be seen again. He now marches with the Daimons, I believe he has become one of them and… I think I have unknowingly followed him,” she added softly.
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| − | “Maybe it is why I am drawn in by you... by danger...darkness,” she stated absently. "Only to drown."
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| − | She ran her hand along the coverlet on the bed. "What have you been able to do differently since then?"
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | "Nothing. I don't need Daimonic powers or whatnot to succeed. I glint knowledge from them now and then, but nothing else. They know so much... Not to tap into their knowledge would be such a waste..."
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| − | Rathan reached out for her hand and took it in his.
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| − | "I am not consumed by them. Nor do I think these Daimons wish to consume. I think they're here to learn... I feel for your loss, I have lost many kinsmen myself to devotion to the Daimons. Don't worry."
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | As his hand took hers she watched him quietly. Her fingers trailed along his absently, following her thoughts. She could feel his warmth, anything physical she could indulge in… but nothing emotional. “I did not feel grief…the loss has not touched me," she told him quietly. I do not feel anything at all, she thought, but didn't voice out loud. I just want to feel something.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | Rathan inched his face closer to hers, his voice barely a whisper.
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| − | "Surely you do, you just haven't realized it yet."
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| − | And with that, he kissed her.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | As Rathan leaned in to kiss her, Sorsha closed her eyes. The touch of his lips was soft against hers, his mouth inviting and the taste of him enticing yet it wasn’t long before she drifted off. The physical sensation was there, but nothing of emotional value touched her.
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| − | She was physically there, but she wasn’t there at all. None of her was…
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| − | In her mind she was with someone else, smiling for someone else, waiting on someone else and instead of dark eyes, her head was filled with visions of blues. She frowned and moaned lightly. The harsh reality of it rang inside her like a bell,
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| − | It was not like it had been with…It would never be. <i>Dear Spirits.</i>
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| − | Her eyes snapped open and she put her hand to his chest, licking her lips. “Rathan,” she whispered his name breathlessly. On the ground beside her she realized Lasair was hissing and growling. She looked over to the cat and frowned.
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| − | Of course it was all clear as day but she just wasn’t paying attention. Sitting up in bed, her hair trailed over her shoulders to her waist and she seemed to snap out of a daze. She snatched her gloves off the table and walked to the door. “You’re right, I had not realized it yet,” she added and left, whistling over her shoulder. Lasair stopped growling and bounded after her with a meow.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Rathan Himoura'''
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| − | Rathan watched her leave, a disappointed look on his face.
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| − | "Well damn..." he said after she was out of earshot. He got up and locked the door, and went to bed.
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