snakecharmed | teleios | i will remember you event

Entry tags:

teleios | i will remember you event

For the better part of the morning, I'seth had been trying to fight the feeling like there was something wrong somewhere, that something was coming, some great disaster, and that she needed to get to higher ground before it hit. It was probably nothing -- just because she looked the part didn't mean she possessed any animal instinct to avoid and run from natural disaster -- but the last time she'd felt like this had been on the eve of war, back home, and she wasn't ready to write the feeling off entirely, just yet. Maybe given time, she'd let it go, but not now. She was too restless for that.

That in mind, dressed in full armor rather than the more casual clothes she'd fallen into the habit of wearing lately (possibly at Clem's insistence, possibly not), she left her home, more command tent than actual building, and took a lap around the city. When she finished, still feeling uneasy, she went in search of familiar faces, half looking to check up on them, half hoping for a distraction. If only Paz was still here; a fight would be the perfect thing for her, right now. Oh, well. She'd take what she could get.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Despite his calmness, at least on the surface, there's a dark tension just haunting behind his eyes, in the economical way in which he moves as if waiting for the attack. Yet there is a belief there, especially in asking that question, that shows he believes she might well give him a fighting chance if this is her there to find out which of them is better at what they do.

"Good. I'm glad," he admitted, moving to bring over the service with it's cream, sugar, lemon and honey while he waits on the water to boil. "I always dread the day you come to end me,' he said, smiling at her as if he wasn't that upset about it, because at least she was worthy of one to make such an attempt.

"So do I." Again, not that she had any intention of actually ever taking him out, but if she did, she doubted Dash would go down without a fight or that it would be an easy one. That was part of the reason why she was hoping they'd get to trading blows, later. A difficult opponent required more thought concentrated on them to win than an easy one.

Regardless, however, and that said, she was quick enough to let the subject drop and return to topics more common to the social visit she had promised. "So, should I ask how you've been?"

He didn't suspect the likelihood was high, truth be told, but that didn't change how good it felt to be himself and not worry the other person was judging him for his life. It was actually comforting knowing there was someone he held on that same level, who was equal in his mind in this place and not merely a person who wasn't a target he sought out.

"Do I play coy and say normal, well, what do people say?" He asked, smirking as he waited on the kettle. "I don't know. I've been myself. You're well?" He didn't ask it because it was required but that he was honestly inquiry about how she was.

She looked amused by his answer, however briefly, and then shrugged when he turned the question back around on her. "Physically-speaking," she agreed, mouth pressing into a thin line. "Mentally ... you ever wake up feeling like everything's wrong in the world and have no idea why?"

Despite his often glib answers, there is no quick answer then. He waits, letting the piercing whistle of the kettle. He poured he water over the ball of flowers and herbs, and then brought it over to steep.

"I felt that way every single day I was on Earth for nearly ten years. Except then I knew it had all gone wrong and I had lost everything, so I guess that isn't without a why," he said, sitting down across from her. "Could it just be... I don't know, indigestion? Restlessness?"

He paused, considering that seriously because it was coming from l'seth. "Have you talked to the agents?"

"Could be. Considering the fact that I took a lap around the city and didn't see anything out of the ordinary, it probably is, actually." Still, however, she didn't look particularly thrilled. "And no, I haven't. Panic's not usually good for anyone, and I don't want to start one, based on a feeling."

If they even believed there was something to her intuition in the first place.

"It's not panic. People panicking don't come for a cup of tea," he pointed out, giving her a slight smile. It lit up his eyes and wasn't the cold, hard smile so many got from the assassin.

Shifting to lift the tea pot, pouring them both a cup. "Sugar? In case it's shock," he added, knowing he was likely to get a cuppa thrown at him for teasing her like that and taking the chance.

"So you've secured the city, in the way you can. What else is there?" He might not have a reason to see or believe what she did, but he believed she did.

Oh, she wasn't panicking -- she was restless, yes, unsettled definitely, but not panicking -- but if she decided to tell whoever that, and they took her seriously and started spreading the word, she doubted the city at large wouldn't. She'd seen it happen before back home, albeit justifiably, when the Krayces had taken the bard Rowher Zoles, and not from her mouth. She had no desire to see it again, particularly if it had no real foundation other than a random gut feeling.

Rather than say that, however, or throw the tea at him as he was half-expecting, she rolled her eyes, instead, a hint of a smile caught in the corners of her mouth almost in spite of herself. "I'll be fine." A beat, in which she sobered, and then, "And beyond that or asking for Agent intervention, I'm not sure there is anything else."

Well, maybe she could go talk to Emma, see if she wouldn't mind keeping an eye on things in an official capacity, but -- but truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure she was overly fond of the sheriff.

Dash thought back to his past. He thought about the collapse of Wonderland. It had come without warning. On a mission, on Earth. He had been working to track down the target and then he felt it. A moment before. That push of magic. Not into his body as the portals closed but as if it was being sucked out of him. It felt like all the blood draining from his body at once and then nothing. It was gone. Could it be something like that here? If he could feel the magic there, then what could l'seth perhaps feel here in a place that was like home to her?

"You don't have to be fine, l'seth. You have to be yourself. If you're uneasy, then I can try and help you examine the place, or drug you so you stop worrying about it," he added, again teasing her to try and take the edge off of things. "Do you think it could be something relating to you? Some harm you're facing, or is it greater than that?"

"You'd have to be a little liberal with the drugs," she shot back, vague amusement coming to her lips. Mission half-accomplished, Dash. "I'm notoriously hard to poison." Impossible to poison, actually, assuming the poison was something naturally occurring and not man-made, the quirks of her biology worth more than just her exotic appearance.

"But it's ... hard to tell," she continued, once her amusement had faded. "It could be that someone's been following me -- that feeling you get when you know someone's watching you -- or it could be something bigger." If someone was stalking her, however, and that was where this feeling was coming from, then that someone was going to find themselves with a bloody nose when she caught them. She didn't like being watched any more than she liked the feeling that accompanied it.

"Either way. I wouldn't say no to ... " Help. A distraction beyond tea. Whatever he felt like providing.

"What do you think is in the tea?" Asked even as he raised his cup, taking a sip. The likelihood was he hadn't poisoned her tea, or even dosed it. The fact that he joked about it with a straight face said more about the madness that haunted him than it did anything else. "I suppose though I'll have to consider a kettle to the back of the head then. If it comes to that." Adding the last, all for his own amusement.

"Do you think someone has somehow followed you here?" Setting down his teacup, sitting up straighter with a heavy frown. "Or someone from here? An enemy living under your nose?" Instantly he was on point as it were, trying to work out if there was a threat they needed to be concerned about, even if she didn't need him to be concerned about her.

A brow arched at that. He settled back in his seat, the hat staying perched upon his head as he gave her a wicked smile. "What did you have in mind, dear l'seth. Do enunciate your desire, my dear. Looking for the sort I actually remove the hat for," he taunted, definitely amused with himself. "Or seeing if you're skilled enough to knock it from my head?"

She glanced down at the tea, dubiously -- mockingly or earnestly, it was hard to tell -- and then, in an act of defiance in either case, and perhaps a show of her own madness, she raised the cup to her lips and took a sip. When she felt no different, she set it down again, fingers curling around it so she could drum her claws against the china delicately.

"I don't know." If someone was following her, though, they'd reveal themselves soon enough, whether they meant to or not, and would be in for a nasty surprise. She didn't particularly like being tailed and she imagined, just from his asking, Dash wouldn't be all that thrilled with the idea, either, regardless of whether whoever it was fell out of the woodworks here or elsewhere. And even if she didn't particularly need his protection or his help, if honestly threatened, she appreciated it nonetheless and it showed on her face in the form of a brief, grateful smile.

One that blossomed into a smirk as he continued. "Do you really think you could handle me, in either case?"

Despite his poor sense of humor, Daschell wasn't one to use tea as a poison, though he realized that if he ever had the desire, he would likely do it just like this, staring the person in the eyes. All for the amusement of it all. Poisoning another shouldn't be entertaining but it was.

When she set the cup down, he snapped his fingers. "Damn. Must have been the other brew."

"Oh, a slight to my manhood. I would be offended if I didn't know better." He knew his capabilities. Yet he suspected hers as well, especially the tail that he did often wonder was purely for balance or combative. He definitely had to wonder about that. "I think whichever it might be, I'm a worthy enough man to try."

"Your mistake."

A moment of silence followed, the smirk fading into something thoughtful and, perhaps oddly seeing as how she didn't normally do hesitation, tentative. When it passed, when she schooled her features back into casual neutrality, she let out a breath and shrugged. "Whatever you think you're prepared for, then."

If he wanted to fight, she'd fight. If he wanted something more, wanted to remove his hat as he had put it, then maybe she could do that, too. She certainly wasn't adverse to the idea, even if it left her feeling a little unsure of herself, if only because it was largely foreign territory.

"You know how it is when I'm distracted by your beauty," he said, taking another sip. There were so much truth in his playful words, even if his teasing was about poisoning her. There was never a time when he was likely to give a straight answer, not even with her. He just wasn't likely to poison her. If nothing else it was cheating, and he had no desire for that.

He took a breath, looking her over. He could certainly speak his desires, ones that had grown getting to know her for her mind, her bearing and intelligence rather than merely her unique beauty.

Leaning forward, he set his cup down. "If you knock it from my head, perhaps we'll see where things go from there. Out back then? There's some space, but not too much." She was worried for the world, of possibly being followed. One option was a distraction. The other might actually help take the edge off.

Deciding she could work with that, I'seth took another sip of her tea, nodded and then set the cup down. "Out back," she agreed, as she got to her feet. "How do you want to do this?"

Weapons or no? Nothing below the belt? Was her armor allowed? Were they going to first blood or until she did or didn't knock his hat from his head? And so on and so forth. She'd leave the terms of engagement to him, since he was willing to indulge her in the first place.

When she rose, Dash mirrored her motions, always the gentleman. At least on the surface. For her it might even run deeper. He considered that, even as he gestured for her to proceed him through the back of the shop.

"Let's say, until first blood or I beg you for mercy," he said, and with that he swept the hat from his head, setting it on the counter. It was a sign of respect for her, since the brim was metal lined and razor sharp and was an unfair advantage in a fair fight. "Hand to hand or small weapons?"

"You'll be waiting awhile on that second one," I'seth shot back, already working to divest herself of her sword. She set it down on the table, slowly, thoughtfully, as she considered the question.

When she seemed to reach some sort of decision, she let the sword stay where it was and looked down at her claws, mock-idly, as if she were pondering how she felt about an imagined manicure. "I have these," she answered, letting her hand fall back to her side. "So, let's go with small weapons, just so you're not at a disadvantage."

She'd fight bare-handed, but he could hold on to something to match her claws.

"What? Don't want to hear me begging?" He stared at her, looking stunned. "Good then. I'll remember never to do it." Not that he was familiar with it beyond those begging him for their lives. He'd never shown any mercy either.

"I feel like you might actually care if I died today," he noted, smiling impishly in a crooked sort of way. He considered that though, moving to open a small panel flush to the cabinet like a false front. Except it wasn't a front. A small shallow compartment hid the collection of knives he'd put together over the years. Picking up two, he considered her and then nodded, stepping back and closing the cabinet.

"I'll go first," he said. Nothing about being ungentlemanly but putting his back to her in a show of faith and trust.

"It's not you," she answered.

With a shrug, she reached up to undo the clasps on the front of her breastplate, working it off as she watched him go for his knives. Armor didn't feel fair, in this instance, either, and she really didn't want to see it ruined as part of a game, so stripping down to the shirt she'd put on under leather and scale seemed the only logical option. Setting it down on top of her sword, she moved to join him, straightening slowly, stretching idly, before relaxing. A gesture towards the door followed. "After you, then."

That did make him smile. She knew the truth of it, the way he was as a man. It was more than impressive, something he hadn't ever thought he might share with another since Alice.

He twirled one of the knives against his palm, adjusting to the weight of it. He hadn't used them often in this place, and in that moment he realized how much he missed of it as well. He perhaps needed this as much as she did.

Winking at her, he headed through the back store room and out into the small courtyard where he grew many of the herbs and flowers for the tea. The center was clear though, with several small paths radiating outward from there. "Come then, my dear."

If she were capable of blushing at the wink, she might have, maybe. As it was, she just lowered her eyes briefly, a dim smile on her lips, and followed him out into the courtyard.

When the stopped, she took a moment more to ready herself, stretching and uncoiling her tail from its usual positioned curled around her leg, and then took up a fighting stance, not entirely far removed from one belonging to one of Earth's martial arts. It wasn't exactly the same, of course, but clearly martial training translated more or less the same way across realities. Not that she gave him much time to consider that, instead circling him briefly before darting in for an open-handed strike, more testing his reflexes and how adept he was with that knife than to actually hit him.

Most of Daschell's training was in assassination. That would mean sneaking in, slitting a throat or putting a knife into one's lungs and killing them before they could take a breath to scream. He knew well that in this moment, going up against l'seth, he was going to lose. He wasn't made for this, and he didn't expect to win. He did though expect to give her a bit of a fight. Just to help her with the whatever tension it was bothering her.

He was quick though, steady on his feet and rarely rattled by anything. His hand came up, snapping his arm up to deflect the blow, making a feint in with the second knife. Not even trying to strike, but to give him the look of being skilled in combat. He wasn't entirely blind to it, after all, just not the warrior she was.

She took a step back as he came at her with the second knife, out of his range and hands still up, and made a small, pleased noise. Maybe he wasn't a fighter, not like her, but if he kept up like that, win or lose, this would at least be worth it.

"Good," she commented, as if the sound and the look on her face wasn't enough.

The compliment made him pause, chin lifting and offering l'seth something few saw. A genuinely pleased smile from the man. Impish, dangerous and mocking tended to describe his smiles but that single word from her delighted him and it showed.

"That is my goal," he said, knowing that she would in the end best him but he would not make a fool of himself before her either. That he wouldn't be able to stomach.

"Come now. That couldn't be all you wanted."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject