A Difference in Indifference

Talon watched calmly as she changed shape. For a few seconds, he paused, absorbing this new appearance. Once he had taken her all in, he began following again, refusing to lose sight of her in the crowd. The din around them rose, distracting him. He hated croweded places, despised them. The only thing they brought was trouble; it was so easy to become lost in the crowd, to be caught unawares by any lurking enemy. He pulled his hood lower.

Around him, a sort of space had formed. Even in areas such as Dubhán, wearing concealing garbs was conspicuous, and Talon's cloak was to a suspicious extreme. In a city where moving can be virtually impossible due to the massive crowds, Talon had at least a one foot girth on either side.

As they approached the old building, he pulled his cloak tighter, his eyes narrowing. His senses had expanded, his awareness reaching all around them, waiting for any hint of assault. He made a point of pausing in the entrance, examining the surroundings both before and behind them, his eyes sliding over the entire premesis in one swift motion. Finally allowing his posture to relax slightly, he followed Raz into the building.

The irony in the situation was that there was something he feared more than such primitive notions as attack. All kinds of persons wandered the streets of Dubhán, and not all of them were as unaware as the common people. He could easily be discovered, easily be exposed, even dragged back to... no. He couldn't consider that. If the situation arose, he would fight to the death, however it is that might come about.

Glancing up out of his reverie, Talon stepped forward behind Raz, staying close. He was suddenly feeling that much more protective.

((HAHAHAHA. I tease you pointedly xD))

((FUCK. YOU. DAMMIT!!!!))

Raz slipped into the shop, taking in the smell of burning metal and eyeing the swords that lined the wall. Various other displays were hung about the room: buckles, boot-tips, embellishments, armor,even jewelry. She dragged a finger slowly down a silver wrist piece, more delicate than dangerous, and smirked. Nyk had definitely expanded his choice of product.

There was a bustle towards the back of the store, the thud of a blade hitting the ground. Nyk's face popped around a corner and her friend emerged from his work space in all his shining glory. With his head of sun-streaked hair, more gold than blond, and forest green eyes, Nyk was a sight to behold. If he weren't such a close pal (or such an idiot), Raz might've found him a suitable bed-mate.

Nyk wiped his blackened fingers hastily along the edges of his shirt, a habit that Raz had thought she broke him of. Apparently it had returned in her absence. She frowned slightly.

The metalworker offered the pair at his door a sunny smile and greeted them with an air of forced politeness. He began to ramble in a very Nyk-ish manner, attempting to usher them out and on their way. Raz's frown deepened, more puzzled than anything. Didn't Nyk recognize her..?

Of course not! She chuckled quietly, rolling her eyes in self-exasperation and releasing the magic that she had gathered around her frame. Instantly, her hair became tousled, long, and blindingly red. Her limbs stretched and strengthened. Her mouth twisted into a very roguish smile. Nyk froze mid-rant.

"Hey, Nyk Knack. Remember your old partner?" Raz spread her arms in a "ta-da" fashion, adding a little wink.

The male's jaw almost hit the floor. His fingers paused against his shirt, and he almost nervously pulled them away and attempted to hide what she'd already seen. His anxiousness was short-lived, and in moments he released a high-pitched noise almost like a squeal and threw himself at the Ruik.

"Raz-Mah-Taz!" Razelle shouted in surprise when instead of hugging her Nyk swung her up and tossed her into the air like she weighed little more than nothing. Maybe lugging around chunks of metal had paid off for him.


Raz landed with little difficulty on her feet, only to find that Nyk had been waiting to sweep her away by the waiste and spin her around until her head was stuffed with cotton. Nyk continued to hold her suspended in the air, however, even after he had stopped moving.

With his usual dramatic flair, the blacksmith declared, "Oh, how I've missed you, my shining star, my angel! My guiding light, my glowing sun! The fire of passion burns bright between us!" Raz howled and squirmed, while Nyk began to laugh and finished with a rough smile and a tight squeeze that left her ribs aching, "Are you ready to Razzle my tazzle yet?"

Nyk stared at the weapon imbedded in the wall, inches from his face. With a raised eyebrow, he turned to Raz and muttered in an all too smug voice, "Sexual. Tension."

Raz grit her teeth, took a deep breath, and attempted to remember why she even bothered to visit him. Never mind the fact that she should have been used to his harassment and antics after years of partnership- one minute with her friend and Raz was ready to take the phrase "no honor among thieves" literally and slit his damn throat.

Her fingers brushed the cold metal of the Ruiken ornamental dagger, tied tight to her waist. Suddenly blank-feaced, Raz almost numbly slid it from her belt and chucked it at Nyk. Nyk caught the projectile with all the grace of a bumbling blacksmith and examined it in silence. After a moment of inspection he let loose a low whistle, "Gods, Raz, where'd you get this beauty?"

Raz scowled (not unusual for her, of course) and placed her fists on her hips, the typical pissed-off woman pose, "Home."

"Oh!" Nyk grinned, "How's the family?"

"Dead."

Nyk's grin fell to ashes, his fingers tightened covulsively against the blade and, with a curse, he dropped the weapon and watch as his blood sizzled against the metal like fire. It bubbled, splitting and spreading against the ground until half had been burned away with a hiss of fire. The left-over drops that stared up at them were died deep green.

"Fuck." He whispered, and heard the word echoed by the redhead.

Blood magic. The blade had been cursed by blood magic, and, if the destruction of Nyk's half-breed blood was any indication, it was specifically made in a Ruiken fashion to kill the Ruiken people.

Nyk slid an eye over its design and smiled almost bitterly, "Fighting fire with fire. How ironic. Any idea who made it?"

"I intend to find out." Raz growled. Her gaze was still pinned on Nyk's blood. Green. Something had torn the fire from his very skin and left only the earth. No. Not something- that dagger. What a disgusting tool.

Nyk sighed and began to reevaluate the weapon. It was unquestionably Ruiken design, but anyone could have made it. The real question was who could have made it and then bound it in dark magic?



((Ugh. My fail at advancing plot. Crappy post cuz I was being rushed, AH-HEMHEM.))

Talon shook his head. This knife could hurt those two only in the ways a normal one could. Though he guessed they just didn't understand that. Slowly but firmly, he held the blade up through its wrappings and pressed Razelle's hand against the cold, white edge. Nothing. No sizzling, no cursing. Not for either of them, anyway.

He felt as if an old keloid had been re-opened, a small flood of older memories clouding his mind. He brisquely withdrew the blade and and covered it again, restoring it to its place under his cloak. The bloodstains on the tip still haunted him--bloodstains that remained there for none but him. The knife was spotlessly clean, perfect even. But memories as clear as his tended to blend slightly with reality.

At least, though, his proposal had been taken seriously. He knew most would laugh away any mention of the 'Ele as children's stories--wives' tales. So let them distrust him--at least they knew what they were facing.

But how could they? Nobody knew the true, sheer size and power of the dark people. The cultures, races, networks they spanned. Who their leaders are.
At that thought he cringed, almost visibly. Then he turned and stepped back into his original post by the door, keeping his eye keen and sharp just the same as he had before. What they would do was up to them.


((Let's move!!! Get the plot going! Was she gonna get re-enraveled in black market business? C'mon let's do some stuff!))

Through Kelenthe:

Raz fumed. She huffed, she puffed, and she stomped her way all the way down the street. Nyk's stupidity was going to get her killed one day. In the meantime, it was was up to her to snoop around and find out what she had been missing.

With practiced ease she melted her features into the face of a crone. Her face aged, but her eyes remained bright and young. Her body shriveled and hunched, and she limped like a cripple towards a familiar tavern, assuming Talon would follow.

The Hellsgate was owned by a fromer firedancer. Maralyse and Raz used to perform together before Mara grew too old and Raz grew too bored. While Raz returned to wandering, hoping for adventure, Mara settled into the rowdy lifestyle of a bar owner. She grew used to serving a diverse crowd, loud and soft and any from all races, though she held true to her own people. Any harried Ruiken was given free ale, and Raz was sure she'd be needing it.

Despite looking ancient, Raz moved fast, and she flung herself through the bar, intent on find her former friend. Another quirk of Mara's? She dealt in information. Owning a popular tavern meant overhearing plenty about the town's occupents.

Maralyse was slapping down pints and sliding them along the counter with practiced ease. When her gaze met that of a pruney old woman, she recognized Raz instantly. A smile bubbled over her lips. Raz dropped her glamour and grinned.

"Well, if it isn't Razelle Dacile. What brings you to my humble dwellings? Need a drink? A place to sleep? A friendly ear?"

"I certainly need something from those ears of yours." She laughed in reply. Raz inspected the barmaid and found her to be in good health. Everything about Mara had always been faded for a Ruiken: her eyes were a pale orange, her tan was minimal, and her hair was a shade of red so muted that it was almost peach. Her delicate looks betrayed her evident strength; Mara could sling an axe better than any tribesman Raz had ever seen.

Mara's smiled slipped a bit, and she glanced cautiously at their surroundings. Her eyes caught on Talon, but she quickly dismissed him as another one of Raz's quirky trysts. With all those clothes, he was probably a freak in bed. (( ))

Subtly, Mara tipped her head towards the stairs and gave the other girl a wink. It was a routine they'd worked out when Raz first began asking "favors" and inquiring about the locals. She rented a room and bought a bit of brew and suddenly Mara's tongue was as loose as a two-bit whore. Raz followed the silent instructions and prepared herself to wait out her friend's shift. They'd have plenty of time to talk before the night began.

Raz faked a tired yawn and annouced to any unwanted listeners that she would be bedding down for a while. Mara played along, leading her to the second floor and leaving her in an empty chamber. As she turned to leave she murmured something softly. Her lips didn't move. Her mouth was barely parted. To all the world it was as if she hadn't spoken at all. But her whisper left ice crawling up Raz's back. "Nyk's in big trouble." Was all that had been said.

And then Mara closed the door behind her.

The wait was agonizing. Talon was quiet, as per usual, and Raz was brooding on the bed. She'd stretched out and resorted to playing with a little ball of fire, tossing it back and forth between her hands and wishing she could burn the whole place down. The Ruik filled the awkward, silent space with her random ramblings. It wasn't like anyone was listening, anyway.

She'd just finished a spiel about why having brothers used to suck ass, especially brothers who stuck scorpions in your bed (a memory she was rather fond of now, knowing there'd be no others like it in the future), when Mara burst into their quarters in a flash of brown skirts.

Panting and flushed, Mara's slammed the door and locked it quickly. She spun and faced the room's occupants, scowling, "Nyk is an idiot." She said it liked it complained

Raz sighed, "I agree. Whole-heartedly. Now let's get down to business."

The space behind Raz was now empty--Talon had disappeared for now, yet again.

Though one could never really be sure how old a Shir'riek was, it was easy to tell almost immediately that this boy was just as young as he looked--probably around fourteen or fifteen. A shield reverberated around his body as he was assaulted, but disintegrated like sparklers in his shock and lack of concentration.

"What do you want, Ruiken? A warm, cozy bed to sleep in--six feet under?" He growled, with the pompousness of a young-teen boy who still thinks himself invincible.