The Regulars

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<sup>Striding away from the congregation buildings Borran's chosen boy housed his most dedicated followers, a long haired blonde was talking to himself. "Who in their right mind accuses an unconscious girl of interferance with government action, murder, and treason! Pyrran!" The man spat the name of the God of Fire and rounded the corner.

He stood out like a welt on a porcelain woman's shoulder as he walked throught he wintry streets of Saverin. Onyx shoes matched a slick ensemble of the same dark shade. A nimble set of ten fingers completed butttoning the front of the dark jacket against a seasonal chill before disappearing back into the pant pocket each hand previously occupied. Shoulders rose to protect a neck strangled by the white collar of a professional white garmet and a strip of red cloth wrapped around the man's brow kept his long blonde hair from obsctructing his vision.

While a purposeful, long stride pushed the man against the winter wind, his eyes never ceased motion. They darted left and right to see a cat disappear into an upturned waste basket, a woman folding clothes on the other side of a pane of window glass. Chocolate brown orbs glimpsed a rodent's tail disappear beneath a building and the flitter of wings beneath the eaves to the underground restaraunt he'd made his normal relaxation hub.

Met with the warmth of the buliding, the door banged shut behind him. "Airos must be taking its vengence on us..." He remarked absentmindedly and stamped what little snow had attached itself to the bottoms of his shoes on the faded, muddied, well-loved 'WELCOME' mat laid in the entrance way. Although, the supposed bright green 'LCOM' were essentially worn away.

"Hey Sammel." The blonde man from the capital building waved at the middle-aged man behind the dining counter. The "regulars" occupied their favorite tables, all of which turned in recognition of the man the doorway. Two older men --retired soldiers for the Lord of Soil-- paused in their daily political debate to raise a hand to the familiar young man. They beckoned him over to talk of government working, but the man waved them down politely, "Not today guys," and made his way for the corner table where he could see the door.

"Waitin' for someone today, Kahdahj?"
The blonde man looked up and smiled at Sammel. Normally Kahdahj sat at the counter to talk with the friend, but after his day...
"Yea, I'm hoping she'll think to find me here."
"Not another project meeting. I've told you time and time again, not in here..."
Kahdahj chuckled and shook his head, blonde hair draping elegantly over his shoulders. "Always thinking the worst of me. You're always thinking the worst of me." Dramatics purposely filling his voice, Kahdahj proved the good-natured spectacle with his shrug of defeat. The "regulars" laughed as a dishtowel buffetted the friendly face.</sup>

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[.:~G:H:O:S:T~:.]

ooc: if'n u have no objections, I'd like to intrude here and join you--even though I get the inkling you are awaiting someone else. ^^ lol

bic:

Dare to enter the dark, when the shadows seem to breath...?

Indeed, the shadows seemed thick within the cozy room, but it was not mere coincidence that brought them to be so. It was the advancement of their queen that seemed to call upon the fire's to blaze and the oils to burn more vigorously. No, it was suttle different, one not easily noticed, but still it remained--a vague fog of apprehension followed her endlessly, and it was a fate she could neither escape nor hide from... only accept.

It was then, the door opened... after a few tense moments of this narration. Her slender and graceful hand clutched the door, swinging it open and releasing a dank, cold, and bitter air into the room--a wind that seemed more empty than any winter could create. Yet, there she stood, clad in black, hooded and cloaked, she entered the threshold--her breasts distinguishing her gender, but her face remained hidden by the black abyss of her covering.

Calmly she entered with a stalking gate as she whiped the danriff of winter from her shoulders and scrapped the muddy snow from her tall boots--so silent and agile. Slender legs remained covered by a tight cotton breech, while her equally ebony tunic faded down beneath her belt. 5'6" stature stood oppressively in the doorway, as the wooden slab closed, soon removing the hood and revealing herself to the world.

She was quite the sight to see.

Catching red hair--stained the color of blood--blazed out in cropped layers against her skull, wild and untamable... yet beastly beautiful; her complexion, so deathly pale and white by contrast highlighted the red tinted skin around her eyes--oh those eyes. Colored by the pale wintry moon, they gleamed with cold tomblike vibrance, and expressed a deep and dangerous complexity about her existance.
Her face was elegant, slender, calm and beautiful--making a deadly and venomous beauty out of the female Feit. Her vivacious appearance remained like that of a venomous snake--so radiantly colored to warn away those who dare oppose.
And yet, her demeenor spoke differently. She did not carry herself with a dominant appearance, she did not glare about the room with a demonic gleam. If anything, she appeared sullen, neglected, wan of home or care, and even perhaps lost and alone. It would be a misguided judgement by any bystander, but it was truly how she appeared.

She did not look like anything more than a rare beauty, a realism of nature's fickle devilry when creating exotic women.

Nonetheless, she was not here with a vendetta, and amazingly enough her appearance was innocent in its motives. She was not out to kill or wreak havoc, though tempting, and seemed only interested in venturing a drink.

___________________________


Sliding into the interior of the room, she was aware of the curious stares that followed and appraised her, but she was unaffected by their pressure, and arrived solemnly at the bar with a sigh. Tapping the counter with a slender finger, she silently wondered to herself if those in the room had noticed the harsh wind that had come through the door, and seen how it had not affected the lengths of her cloak... no doubt she felts its chill... but it dared not touch her. She cursed herself breifly for a moment, for allowing such opportunity but convinced herself that it was too suttle a detail for someone to clearly pick up--therefore she wiped the grimace from her visage and morosely addressed the tender that approached her.

"Regal on the Rocks." she uttered shortly and brisk--her tone underlined by a hidden bitterness and lack of warmth.

Her silver pools looked absently down at the lines of the wooden table, but off to the side she took note of the man, but a few seats down. There was no reason for her to notice him, but his sharp blonde locks were hard to miss.

[+Orphan+]

Gracefully stepping her way round the city Naivar’s soft feet padded their way through the cold snow fall. Up until now she hadn’t any place she was out to be heading to, but just of late she had decided it might be nice to warm the chill from her toes and fill her empty stomach. The wind helped her decided where to go; the warm aroma of food mixed in the wind lead her to a nice looking place she could reasonably say. Before entering she had seen a cloaked figure enter. Pausing for a brief moment she looked around at the world surrounding this place. The world so grand, and you so small of a place; I’m guessing the wind lead me here for more than hunger and warmth. Smiling at her childish thoughts and ideas which always seemed to have a way of running off without her, Naivar mapped out the road. She memorized the name, the buildings next to it, the weather at the time, and any other little detail she could find. Nodding with satisfaction that she had memorized the place she padded her way to the door.

Opening the door slowly was a waste for the warmth of the room was inviting and there was no need to be shy to its touch. Slipping into the room shying from the door enough to give it leave to close on its own, she looked around. Taking in all the people around the room there were two that stood out. One being her childhood friend, on the other side of the room, and the other being the fire red head. Skimming her attributes she made a mental note and decided upon sitting with her friend. Jumping up and down a few times to shake off the snow, she took off her cloak as she walked to meet her friend. Her amber eyes dared not look straight up at him while she walked over to the table to meet him. From the atmosphere here she could tell he was familiar with some of the others in the room and decided to make a pitch of fun to break the ice between them since their last encounter.

Setting her cloak on the back of the chair across from him she looked up with a smile on her face. “Kahdahj, I would normally sit with you considering I know you best here but… I think that guy over there kinda cute, so I’m going to sit over there with him.” Giggling at her jest she knew he’d pick up on her inside joke. Rarely if never has she ever bothered with the opposite sex, and she knew he knew that. Having her fun for the time, she took a seat winking at the guy across the room that she didn’t know was just a moment ago speaking to Kahdahj. “So what’s the bad news…” looking at him seriously and spoke in low voice “you not out killing something or spying on the world, something must be gravely wrong with you.” Smiling again at pushing his button with light humor but soon fell back into her normal self and looked about the room in her ever battle of memorizing the world. Her eyes softened to dullness, an evident change from the jests, her demeanor almost lifeless again. My pathetic jests of humor amuse me… but only for a bit, there aren’t as funny anymore since… Letting out a soft sigh, “What’s new?” The question coming out more as a dulled response to fill the empty void of conversation. The jests of once great friendship fading as the reminder set in of what happened and it was obvious that her jest were hard attempts to make this meeting on safer grounds. Her back giving away to hunch over a hand that rested on the table. Unable to be rude to him for a reason far greater than their friendship her lifeless amber eyes found his. She hoped for the sake of their friendship and her closeness to him that something would be said to put the incident in the past.


o.o.c.- sorry it took me so long. My life has been on the fritz until now, but I'm back.

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<sup>"Now now, Sammel, is that any way to treat a paying customer?"
This really got the crowd roaring. Sammel too smiled and shook his head as he leaned on the counter and beckoned with an empty hand for the return of his drying rag. Kahdahj stood and, with a flourishing mock-bow, dangled the rag just out of the counter tender's reach.
"Oh come on, boy. Ive got work to do. Give it here!"
At that Sammel snatched the cloth and left Kahdahj to return to his seat like the "paying customer" he was.

The room bubbled with warmth of heart; all of Kahdahj's earlier worries and troubles vanished --as he had hoped-- with the tavern's good company. He never did find a place he liked better than the little joint. Not even home made him feel so comfortable in his own skin. At least, it didn't nowadays. On the rare occasion he visited home, Kahdahj was accutely aware of his... change in person. Not something he liked having to keep in check.

Resettling himself in his seat, Kahdahj stretched his legs out before him and his arms over his head. Anyone might have thought Kahdahj lived in the place, let alone owned the establishment with the way he tied his hands behind his head and smiled to his friends tossing the odd comment or two back across the room to the other regulars. Even when the door opened to admit a new patron, Kahdahj didn't act as though his good mood was disturbed. If anything he kept the place alight by catching a phrase and throwing another jesting, unimportant comment back across the room.

The new female, however, disturbed Kahdahj's insides. He might have explained the feeling as though his guts were wiggling or crawling around inside of him. Normal people might have said they felt butterflies, but it was a much darker feeling than butterflies for Kahdahj. From her feral blood hair --not red or crimson, but the shade of bright, fresh blood-- to her poultergeist complexion, the woman spoke of powers far more menacing than Kahdahj would have liked to see walk into his sanctuary. He had to admit though, she was beautiful. Kahdahj likes his women, with a different reason for each face his fingers graced, but he did know beauty when he saw it. He could call the shape of her frame, the angles in her face, and the way she held herself as she strode to the bar nothing less than elegant. Still, Kahdahj could not say he liked the way the shadows thickened around her. Yes, he had noticed the breif bits of life that seemed to stirr the shadows beneath the chairs, however faint they had been before her entrance. It left him... wary of her presence as she walked, heels echoing loudly over the conversation, to the counter not a few seats away. He decided he best keep one ear open to her movements, if not a curious eye.


She sat at the counter with her posionous looks and ordered a drink -- "Regal onthe Rocks"-- and Kahdahj had yet to move from his relaxed seat. He could hear Sammel clicking glasses as the tender prepared the strange woman's drink, but Kahdahj looked as though the woman's presence bare even phased him. He shifted himself, sitting more upright, in the middle of a rip-roaring argument with the only other trio in the building. The men across the room argued boisterously, argued with Kahdahj over a matter with absolutely no relavence to the politics they had been speaking of, the red-haired wraith at the counter, or the new face that had just pushed her way out of the winter cold and onto the friendly debate's stage.

"Now now, gentleman," Kahdahj raised his hands from the table top, waving them into silence as they were a large, rioting crowd. "I would love to continue this... conversation, but it appears my guest has arrived." Kahdahj slipped a smile to the room and righted himself more appropriately to have a guest at his table.

“Kahdahj, I would normally sit with you considering I know you best here but… I think that guy over there kinda cute, so I’m going to sit over there with him.” The regulars barked with laugher as Naivar poked her fun. Kahdahj closed his eyes and smiled something small to himself as she seated herself across from him and added more in hushed undertones.“So what’s the bad news…you not out killing something or spying on the world, something must be gravely wrong with you. What’s new?”

"Nothing is new, Nai." Kahdahj sighed; the subject of work and her appearance had remined him of what put him in such a god-cursing mood earlier. He rubbed half his face with a free hand and continued. "Nothing other than your release. How long were you down there anyway?" Kahdahj let his chocolate brown eyes rove over her face, intent on how much thinner she looked than he remembered. At least she was cleaner than the last time he'd seen her and the shackles were missing from her wrists.</sup>

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[.:~G:H:O:S:T~:.]

It took several moments for the tender to fill her order, but she showed no impatience and very little emotion when the drink was eventually slid before her. She merely nodded blankly and dropped the necessary coin upon the shelf before removing herself from the bar.

Her eyes fixed themselves upon her drink as she sipped its contents faintishly, tiptoeing across the room with little sound except the faint step of her soft boots. Her cloak shifted with her movements but refused to billow with her grace as she fell into the dark shadows of a corner, finding her seat at a table across from another dark face.

His name was Razual and could be considered a friend of hers--as few as they are. His hood covered a hallowed face, worn by time and age, as his lustless grey eyes faded with each passing minute behind the black wirery strands of hair that fell before them. His lips, chaffed and bleeding, parted to greet her, and she accepted his greeting with a cold dark smile--breaking the stone visage for a breif second.
"What is it that you need, old friend. My time is my own and better spent elsewhere." she hissed with a reletive warmth and cold patience.

She twisted her wrist as she stirred the ice and ale within her glass--her broken and empty eyes bearing coldly into the very soul of the man who had summoned her.
She worked for many, any who needed the assistance of someone "less" than human. In truth she had no moral, but neither was a satanist. She did what earned her coin, and what better way to earn such things than by doing something one is good at--and skulking in the dark? She was good at that.

Gently sipping her ale, she heard his voice whisper in front of her, its dry rasp barely reaching the hearable frequencies of life. She could taste the death in it, and feel the dark shadows as well as she could see them beneath his eyes. She pity him in some respects, for he was the misery embodied in a man.

"I have business across the border over in the far corner of the world..." she faded away from his speech as something else caught her curiousities.

A woman had arrived, meeting the young blonde haired man with friendly announcement. Ghost had thought nothing of it, but the new woman's words caught her attention: "you not out killing something or spying on the world..."

She cocked her head to better hear behind her, and a sideways eye flickered towards the unknown Naivar then to the unknown company. A spy for whom... she wondered... a shadow darted across her face hungrily as her dark insistances struggled against her self control. But her magic was easily contained by her experience and she shoved the dark entity away, bidding it back to the abyss before it could cause notice.

"Ghost!" she heard her name flash openly into the air and her head snapped back to focus angry eyes seething with silver fire, towards Razual.

"Not here!" she hissed angrilly as she referred to the use of her calling. True enough, it was not her real name, but it was as real a name as she would ever have and thus it was something to be known by, and she would much rather NOT be known.

Her feral tone caused the poor feeble Razual to cower momentarily before stuttering on, "...t...there is an informer outside of the Fire's Citadel waiting to transer information..." she knew what he wanted and thus stopped him before he spoke anymore, and with a solemn glare broke her oppressive stare and looked down into the ice of her aleglass. She'd done such missions before, but none had been as far. She weighed in her mind, then reaverted her gaze to him, "Will it be a clean job...?"

Razual only nodded, and the pair fell into silence. Ghost did not raise her eyes.

[+Orphan+]

The words and actions weren’t really noted in Naivar’s head for the moment the reminder of her time in prison made her zone out. Actions, bubbles of laughter, the clack of bottles, all lost their sound as Naivar’s eyes seemed to go black with the covering of memory.

“Crash,” the sound of wooden tables and chairs breaking resounded, but made little noise over the t cries coming from the other cellmates. The small body that had been thrown through the table and chair covered in blood along the side of her torso and her jaw line. Not moving at first the body’s mind debated getting up and not just giving in to the pain of death. No, I will live and get even with these bastards. One hand reaching up to a wall to help drag herself to her feet, the other grabbed at two pieces of splintered wood. Standing at first wobbly, her stance refined as the big prisoner; the one that was having a hissy fit for Naivar not wanting to give herself to him; came at her again. “You filthy bitch I’ll…” he never had the chance to finish his sentence for the two pieces of wood left Naivar’s hands before he could speak them. The first tearing through his right hand, and the other logging itself in his left side. It was not enough to kill him, but enough to make him drop to the ground and give her enough time to get away from him. As he went down Naivar limped away to her own cell. It was later that her cell mates had to re-due the stitches he had put in and bandage them up again.

Naivar made sure to cut the flash back short for she knew everything she just remembered was plain in her eyes and she refused to let Kahdahj see how the prison guard almost beat the life out of her. Her eyes seeming to finally have life in them again she let out a very soft response. “Six months…” The light of the fire in place caught on the left of her jaw, a small but now noticeable in the light, scar that running only half an inch up and down her jaw made its appearance. “… six months”. The evidence of the new hollowness in her eyes, received in prison, was chilling. Her spiritual balance seemed off for a moment with the deep sadness running through her. As the sadness left, anger replaced it and her muscles all started to flex, but her face remand the same; cold. The moment passing over her, she looked around to a candle that had caught her eye. The light of fire seemed to melt the ice in her and remind her of the other warmth of the world. A small smile covered her face as she looked back over to Kahdahj. “Six months in prison, but a whole life to live out here.” She let her hand wonder over the table to feel the texture; her eyes closing to take in the sounds and smells. “The rest of my life to find some wonder out of this world…” Opening her eyes, “and to get even for my imprisonment.” Her fist closing and her hand popped and cracked. “But I guess I should keep my mouth shut there for a soldier like you might take me in.” A remark that normally would have been a joke was now coldly serious. I guess I can’t get over the incident and fact I still blame him for some reason. Standing and not allowing, or not hearing his reply she decided she needed to get away, needed to go see something new for the sense of being confined here was overwhelming her.

Not hesitating a bit, she took off out of the place into the streets. The soft pads of her feet hitting hard on the stone, and gliding herself over the path took her away from the place. Any normal person would of lost balance on the snow covered path, but the balance within her helped protect her from that; until she thought about him, suddenly her steps where more unsure, and less graceful. Just as she got out of the streets and were getting to a small play area for children did she lose her footing. Her arms went out to ease her landing but it didn’t protect her from rolling and rolling until deeper in the children’s play park. A small cry of pain escaped her lips. At first attempting to get up out of the cold, she let her self stay slumped in the ground. Giving a moment and then assessing the damage to her. A small cut on her shin and what looking like a blackening finger. “Great.”

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<sup>“Six months…”
Kahdahj resisted cringing at the two simple words and looked up from the professionally folded hands on the table top. How long had he been... absent from work? Four or so. She'd been in that cell while he... "took a much needed vacation". And then, two more months while he tried to catch a glimpse of the Borran's man. Kahdahj owed that man a great deal for all he'd done. It was amazing, how much went on behind the scenes in a government. Kahdahj had only been employed under Satazian for a few years and already he knew the in's and out's of the net behind Saverin's capital building. So many favors were exhanged; too many to abolish from the system. Some good, some bad, all for a selfish purpose. As part idealist, Kahdahj revolted at the thought of himself, knowing he was now part of the warpd system.
“… six months.”

Looking at Naivar, memmories swallowed her soul and for a moment Kahdajh's eyes and ears were only on her. He'd done his best. He'd done what he thought was the best. The cloaked figure had saved her, as promised, but never did Kahdahj think she would be left to take blame for the murder. The corruption. Kahdahj's brows snapped together in self-hatred for being a part of it. But it had gotten her out of that dank cell. It had gotten her wounds tended to and the chains removed from her frame. She'd been fed and released. He had to remind himself --he couldn't have done anything for her until... those four months were over. After finding her in that cell, he had to remind himself he'd gone straight to the Lord and done all he could, as fast as he could, for her.

Speaking again, Naiver seemed to marvel at her freedoms as she traced the table grains. The stone in Kahdahj's eyes softened. Hatred would do him no good now so he calmed the pounding in his ears and cleared his sights. Naivar was safe now, that's all that mattered.
“The rest of my life to find some wonder out of this world…and to get even for my imprisonment.”
This attracted attention. "Naivar?" Kahdahj thought he was the only one twitching at the thought of government corruption, but he could not look down on the Lord of Soil as a part of that system.
"But I guess I should keep my mouth shut there for a soldier like you might take me in.”
The joke was missing from her comment. That cell had sucked the vitality out of his Naivar and Kahdahj wanted to-- he focused on keeping his breath slow, keep his composure, and that he did. But should Naivar had cuaght his eyes, he would have shared a thought with her. She didn't though. She stood with more abruptness than Kahdahj remembered her to be. "Hey," He tried to placate her, get her to sit back down, and reached for her hand trying to ressurect the smile she would so fondly remember without the heart behind it, "Nai, let me get you...something..." His hand closed around nothing and she left the tavern without another word to him.

Face twisted with what some may call confused thought, Kahdajh sat back in his chair, tapping his foot on the table leg. Should he follow? Naivar had always been open with him and his past said to trace her steps, but his ears told him to keep still for a while longer.

Her name was Ghost. That was where he had come into the conversation, but he couldn't tell in the slightest who her conversationist was. The corner was too dark for his covert glances, but someone sat with the red-haired mistress.
"Sammel, my special please."
"Right-o."
And the tender set about making Kahdahj's drink, pouring the clear liquid from a vokda bottle he pulled from beneath the counter into the mixture. Sammel knew better than to provoke questions when Kahdahj ordered the seemingly alcoholic glass and set the orange tinted liquid down before his most frequent customer. The drink meant Kahdahj would leave as soon as the glass sat on the counter with only melting ice cubes.

Fingers wrapped around the "toxic" drink as he swallowed information about an "informer outside of the Fire's Citadel waiting to transer information". Nearly finished with his drink, Kahdahj reclined against the wall and stared at the ceiling looking a little forlorn. Sitting sidways in his chair, waiting to see if there was anything more he could absently procure about this "clean job", he closed his eyes as sighed.

Was there ever a day Kahdahj could just live instead of work?</sup>

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[.:~G:H:O:S:T~:.]

Ghost did not return to the conversation that had previously distracted her, nothing new had caught her attention and she only sat with downcast eyes as she drained the glass of its last few drops. The alcohol that newly flowed within her blood did little to mute her senses and she remained uneffected in even the slightest. Such minimal levels of intoxication could not hope to dampen her high immune system, and her powerful physical health was a hard horse to beat.

Soon, feeling nothing but ice against her tongue, she lifted her vision and fixed a hard cold stare upon the silent Razual. The few sentences they had shared was more than enough and she was glad that the task ahead did not seem to prove too complicated. It was always simpler to avoid assasination, murder, and hidden plot. So far, it would seem that these undesirable aspects would not be present in her newly aquired jaunt. But, since when have things gone as planned.

Sliding the glass away from her she prepared to stand, but not before she brought her face inches from his. With a whisper she bade him farewell with cold words, emotionless, but full of threatening power. "It's a long walk to grace Fire's door..." she paused and withdrew, sitting back in her chair as she gathered the glass, cloak, and rummaged breifly to find the coin to pay the tender, "10 coin. Gold. No less."

The last statement was brisk, frank, and not open for negotiation but the high sum put a sudden fear in the weak man's eyes and he begged pleadingly in hushed whispers.
"I don't have that money!" He looked as if he was about to argue more, but Ghost's swift movements silenced him.

In the process of his proclamation, she'd begun to stand and was already adjusting her cloak around her shoulders. She did not even turn to look at him as her cold expressionless visage looked straight ahead at the wall in front of her as she secured the brooch at her neck. However, her words cut him off with little hesitation and the tone was as cold as it always seemed to be.

"Not my problem."

With that she was gone.

She stopped at the bar, leaving the glass and coin charge behind her as she swiftly left the room. Her cloak moving with the momentum of her body, but still unstirred by the breeze that soon filtered into the room.

Pausing at the door she glanced towards the blonde-haired youth who had previously caught her attention. His companion was gone and he seemed forlorn where he sat as if contemplationg a confusing topic. She wondered why he sat there so, but let it slip from her mind as new thoughts preocupied the space.

Casually the door shut behind her, and the room seemed to fill with new life that had appeared almost absent while she had shared the vacinity. The shadows wanned and the warmth seemed to return as if stepping from a tomb. She was a strange woman, no doubt.

Drawing her hood back around her face her lithe figured moved at a rapid pace down the road. He cloak did not stir in the wind, neither did her hair or hood, thus she held them close to remove their conspicuos behavior. It was a slight surprise when she observed the road before her to find the previous man's auqaintance lying disgracefully in the snow.

Normally, she would not pause or stop--leaving only a glance in her wake before forgetting the subject and all matters of corresponding topic. However, a darkness lingered around the woman--whether in her heart or in her memories, it was a shadow that called out for the feited queen's influence. Normally such a call would show a weakened slow, deprived of some essence or harmed by neglect and subjected to torment. However, though there were characteristics about her that showed this hopelessness, there was also a fighting vibrance that remained, attached to tattered hope. Ghost could perceive much about the darkness, but could see little in the ways of good in the world.

Without knowing much of why... she offered a hand. The pale cold palm open and offering assistance. She could find no words of positive meaning to speak in correlation to this random act of kindness--a rare occasion for the emotionless feit. But she could not bear to remain silent--oh how odd that would seem.
Gently, her voice whispered, it was still cold but lacked the malevolence that it had possessed with the poor Razual.
"Be careful, one day you may stumble and fall, and the world may not let you stand again." Whatever meaning there was behind the words was for the listener to comprehend, as Ghost only uttered what seemed proper in the moment. Inquisitive as she was, she was not open with her curiousity, but if she truly desired, would remain quiet and compassionate while hiding the deceitful cunning that was slowly obtaining what it desired. Of course, to be honest, at this moment... she was--in all unlikeliness--simply being kind.

[+Orphan+]

Letting her warm hand, full of life, slip into the cold hand of the woman before her, Naivar was captivated by her words. "Be careful, one day you may stumble and fall and the world may not let you stand again." They were true and seemed to have a meaning that fell short of a revelation to her. The words spun in her head, debated upon what a reply to such words should be. The cold impact of her hand in the unknown Ghost made her wonder about the being and her intent on the words. What ever the intent behind the words, Naivar replied simply. “Thanks, I shall keep that in mind.” Using the hand to lift her light weight she stood facing the woman. In the hub she hadn’t been able to fully see her face, but now she could. The crimson hair, pale skin, and eye silver as death rimed red was enough to send a chill down her spin; but it was the flawlessness of her features that shook her soul. A creature with such perfection couldn’t be human. The icy absence of a soul in her eyes made her sure. Who ever this was, she was different and was making her skin start to crawl. She had an essence that made her feel that she was everything that Naivar opposed in life. She had darkness and death looming about her and a chill cold enough to strip the white from bones. Unsure of a way to react to the being about her and her sudden dread of the woman she let her cold skin fall from her hand. When her hand fell it seemed as if the life had been drawn from it, as if the blood flow had stopped. Is it that this being is truly that cold, or is it that I have not the slightest liking to the cold feeling I have wrapped about me in her presence?

What ever be the reason for the feelings consuming her about the woman she let it pass and dealt with what was real and not feeling. She hadn’t smiled or for that matter even reacted when she had spoken her words. It was chilling to say the least. Taking a step back from the woman to regain the warmth her body provided she looked away from the woman. It was the hopeless feeling in her that told her she must be careful and not let her soul drift to close that had made her redirect her eyes from the woman. “I’m sorry; the fall seems to have knocked sense from my head.” Weaving a lie and an excuse to be gone from the woman, “I must seek shelter for the night, do pardon me.” Lifting one leg to feel the small cut stung as she applied pressure to the leg, she grasped a near by tree and her now broken finger crack. Wincing at the pain which rippled up her arm, she closed her eyes. That’s what I get for my haste. Come now, you’ve had worse. Standing straight again, “Let’s see if I can try this again,” having nothing to say and not wishing to look rather daft she made the out the small words. Getting her balance back and ability to walk without falling in a few steps, Naivar was pleased with her self and smiled softly. Remembering the woman not far off she called out to her. Why, Naivar didn’t know. Maybe it was her being kind back to the woman. Kindness is repaid with kindness. “I’m seeking an inn would you care to travel with me to find one?” she had no idea if the woman already had a place, but she didn’t see the offer as offensive so she figured it was harmless. The coldness she had felt now a fleeting memory to her. What ever she decides I must find a place to stay and write to Kahdahj

o.o.c.- sorry I was short on muse.

[[-censored-]]

<sup>Kahdahj sipped the remains of his drink, tilting the glass to the ceiling to compensate for the angle at which his head rested back against the wall. He swirled the drink, tasting it fully, before swallowing. Those that knew the blonde boy knew better than to interrupt Kahdahj's thinking process; it nearly always resulted in mass confusion or a quick silent exit by the blonde.

Ghost had already left. The door had shut behind her and her sickly shadows as if she had never come to drain the homely, townsey tavern and no one other than the informant noticed how her cloak hadn't swept in the winter wind trying to dampen the room's comfortable warmth. Kahdahj was glad to ahve her gone; the remisce of the thick air around her made his insides want to quail.
Kahdahj wondered in her absence as he finished his drink: what had come of the man sitting in the shadows? Nothing could be said for sure, but he seemed to have... just diappeared. Nothing concrete had no foundation in his line of work; he was the one always digging to find the support beams. This would only be one more thing he had to keep an eye on.

Looking at the ceiling through the bottom of the glass, Kahdahj came back to reality when the ice pressing against his lips started to numb his most polished weapons. The world reformed itself --the chattering old men, Sammel at work with an ear open to conversation, the bright colors and once more 2-D shadows-- as Kahdahj stood and straightened himself. He carried the glass to the counter and tapped the clean spread with two fingers.
"Yea yea. On your tab."
Sammel waved Kahdahj's winking self to the door and took note of the bill. Kahdahj turned to the bickering group and saluted a salutation as he opened the portal.
"Good day to ya, fellas."
The men muttered something about his sudden change in mood; a comment quickly destroyed with the mention that Kahdahj was always like that after a visit to their gathering place.

Outside of the establishment, Kahdahj paused staring at his feet. Someone walked by with a child. The chilly wind raced up his sleeves and tossled his hair. Naivar had been followed. Kahdahj set off after his childhood friend as he had planned all along only a small wrinkle troubled his brow, but nothing that wouldn't be expected after his company had walked out on him and a "drink" had been put in him. What desire did the Ghost have with her? Ten Gold to take her to the Fire Nation-- a framed crime? Was there even a malicious intent?

After a number of lefts and rights, Kahdahj looking like the aimless thoughtful wanderer followed Naivar's --and Ghost's-- footprints to a children's playground. Kahdahj stopped upon reaching the corner facing playground and let chocolate brown eyes look upon the situation before making himself known. He wasn't the slightest bit inconspicuious in his black jacket, but Naivar was walking, or rather, limping away from the blazing-haired Ghost. Something quite uninvolving of him unfolded as he stood.
“I’m seeking an inn would you care to travel with me to find one?”
He pieced together what might have happened, a possibly nasty scene turning much more benign as Naivar asked Ghost if she would travel with her.

Kahdahj did not like the idea of the pallid woman alone with his long-time friend. He was overly protective of the girl. Always had been when they were little, still is now, and probably will be forever. He did know, however, that Naivar was no longer twelve and scared because the neighbor's barked a little too loudly. Naivar grew over the years just as he had. He could not dictate her life.
But the image of her huddled in the corner of the communal cell...

"There you are, Nai."
Kahdahj stepped forward acting as though he hadn't stopped to think and feel so many things at once. He smiled coming forward purposefully and waved his hands over his head to gesture toward the whole city.
"You could have been anywhere. I guess I got lucky when I followed my gut to the park, didn't I?"

Now, Kahdahj purposely ignored Ghost's presence. Anyone who would have just stepped into view would not have known of their exchange of actions or words, so Kahdahj played the innocent intervention. He would wait for the natural play of things to introduce him to Ghost, if that ever happened. Either way, Naivar captured his concern, not Ghost. A part of him could careless if the phantasmal woman simply walked away, but a rather important promise kept him from showing any of that... personal distaste.</sup>

[/sup][/color]

[.:~G:H:O:S:T~:.]

Again, Ghost pondered over her actions as she helped the young woman stand. She was merely being kind, as kind as she could--and still there was a mysteriousness about her that threatened deceit, no matter how innocent her true intentions were. Nonetheless, the idea that Naivar would stand and bid fairwell with aprehensive haste, did not bother or phase the outcast that was the feited female. No, on the contrary it was a reputation that she often found useful and even pleasing... even if it didn't represent her true personality. It was a part of her, and she'd come to accept the frightened stares, the glares of dislike, and the looks of distaste. It was what made her the feit, and if an ally would not accept it as she had, then they were truly no ally at all.

Recapturing her own helping hand, Ghost gathered her still cloak around her tightly and prepared to continue on. She did not expect the conversation even as it came to her, and it took a couple moments for it to sink in that--though perhaps shaken by the feits cold deathly pale aura and disconcerting looks--the woman was actually willing to converse for a few moments, if only as preliminaries for farewell. It was more than Ghost often heard, and this surprised her. Was the unknown Naivar always so kind to strangers? Perhaps she was still a touch naive, for Ghost certainly produced no impression that would lend her a trustworthy title. Certainly not enough to offer company.

Intrigue Ghost attempted to force a smile, but it was such a frail, weak, and fragile thing that it faded away in the stiff breeze before it could leave any true effect. Her kindness was a strict respect, and Ghost knew not the feeling of a warm persona, and quite blatantly she was rarely generous. Offering her mercy only to those who gained her respect. Astonishingly enough, this Naivar character had managed to procur some such reward. The simple fact that the woman had the manners enough to show Ghost--a cold, dark stranger--common courtesy was enough to provoke the decency that her own twisted morals allowed her.

She still knew not how to reply, and glanced away off into the setting winds, observing time as it stood before her--calmly ticking away with unheard tones. She was in no rush, and the informant held only minimal rumors--nothing that needed immediate attention. Even Razual knew this, but he could not dare to argue with her unbending demands.

Perhaps fortunate for her, she did not have to answer. A presence ticked at her awareness and her glance shifted slightly--watching the corner just beyond the waiting Naivar--a woman whose name was still mysteriously hidden to the feit. The man from the bar was near, if not already present. The dark corners could not tell her much in open air, but the hints and pricks against her conscious were enough to sense his opening air a few seconds before it actually came.

He strode in confidence towards the pair, but made no notion towards Ghost's existance, something that neither irritated nor settled the dark miscreant. Either way, it didn't help him... and to Ghost his supposed "oblivion" of her standing not more than a few precious feet away lended Ghost with an assumed arrogance that she found rather distateful. She did have half a mind to leave, but the blonde youth's possessive pose around the newly known "Nai" and his words almost challanged her--arosing the more competitive and "not so docile" mode of feited behavior.

Ghost did not believe him as he blamed mere "happenstance" on the coincidence of "following his gut" to find Naivar. There was just a tone about it, that made the crimson haired woman sense the distaste in the air that directed itself to her. Perhaps she was in truth flatering herself, but she knew she had some distaste for him, as he seemed to reflect towards her. Two could play the game.

Striding in, it was her turn to ignore, and ignore she did. Addressing Naivar's earlier proposal, she offered a nod of her head, as her slender hand touched upon the young woman's shoulder briefly to gain her attention once more. It quickly departed, nearly as soon as it had come. Nodding kindly, a smile graced her face once more. Yet, this one was strong. It did not fade away upon the winds, but remained with a purpose as she offered what little warmth her cold demeenor could muster into her words. It was a faint warmth, and wasn't much for anyone to capture, but it reflected a rewarding kindness, that Ghost offered to Naivar. Generally she would not put so much effort into a farewell, even to one she offered the utmost respect. However, half of the desire lay in her wish to exagerate and ignore the intrusive Kahdahj. With the smile came words of bidding, "I would perhaps join you for a time, but it would seem that your friend has already chosen to keep you company. Fairwell then." There was little true warmth in the words, but they were as light as she could make them, and the serious stone visage had barely faded, even from her smiling face. Warmth and kind, soft expressions were just not her forte, and she couldn't control whatever bad impression they would make.

Letting the smile down, she nodded her respects and turned to depart. Heading towards the Saverin's Outer Gates.

She took her first step to depart... already removing the couple from her present priorities. She felt no guilt, nor rejection in leaving--it was a part of her life, and company, allies... even "friends" would probably never be a peice to that puzzle.

[+Orphan+]

EDIT:

Her attention, briefly stolen to Kahdahj, was taken back to unknown Ghost when her hand touched her shoulder. Naivar had not a care for the fact that Ghost and Kahdahj seemed to act blind to each other but her words of Kahdahj wanting to keep her company made her a little hesitant. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to hold a “proper” conversation with her friend yet, and the idea of some one else in the room to keep from speaking of the incident had a certain appeal. She reached out to grab Ghost’s shoulder before she left, only to just nip her shoulder, Naivar spoke softly to her. “As you said about getting up, I don’t desire to need to do so again.” The words shared between the two gave birth to her meaning behind the words. “The pleasure might be all mine, but it was indeed nice to meet some one who… some one like you. I guess it is good bye then.” Turning back to Kahdahj she remembered one more thing. “Oh, my name… its Naivar… so maybe I’m not just a face in your memory.” She had not a reason to tell Ghost her name, but maybe it was something in the smile that she had given. She could tell from the way it wore on her face it was not something that was a common expression. She had put forth effort to seem friendly, why shouldn’t Naivar. IT could just me being odd agian. She was unsure if she’d see the being ever again, but her curiosity on the subject had to be dropped. Things settled to the point of where she wanted them she started off to move so as too find an inn.

Unfortunately she realized a moment to late that her leg was still on the fritz from the cut. Wincing a bit and limping it off she gripped onto a near by bench. Sighing she bent down to look at the cut and noted the dirt in the cut, the blood soaking through her attire, and the dead skin hanging there. Standing back up and digging in her pockets for her bandages she rolled her eyes. Finding only a little bit left she cursed. Not only do I have to find an inn but a person who carries my type of bandages cloth. Why do I have to be such a klutz around him! Nothing bothered Naivar more than the fact that Kahdahj’s presence did this to her. Unrolling some of the bandages on her arm uncovering a small scar, she started to re apply it on her leg. Keeping the bandage tight and tying it off, she tied her leg again. The sting still there she jumped and bit and rested herself down onto the bench. Why is it the simplest wounds give you the most grief? For example, the stupid paper cut. Taking a breath she tried to calm herself. It’s because of him I’m getting all flustered and I swear he’ll know it too. A resolve over her self she had to deal with the fact that she’d need his help and would have to deal with anything he chose to speak about. Because I can surely out run him right now. Giving Kahdahj a questioning look Naivar decided she have to suck up the little incident at the pub for now and lick her wounds later; literally.

“Well it looks like my leg is out of commission until I get proper bandage and rest it.” Standing and leaning to the good leg to get off the bad one she rested her hands on her hips and forced herself to smile. When the smile came she tried to ignore the fact that it was easier to smile at him then she wanted it to be. “Guess I’m lucky that you are lucky in finding me. So would you mind giving an old friend a little help?” Looking over her shoulder again to see if Ghost was gone or not yet. Then looking back at him. I wonder what he' could be up to. I guess I’ll fund out now that I have to lean on him.

[[-censored-]]

<sup>Kahdahj's arrival was put on pause with Ghost's final gesture to Naivar: a touch on the shoulder, a few words regarding him, and a smile that reminisced of the crisp feel of shade. So she knew his game, he thought as she turned to leave. Kahdahj resisted the urge to smirk. Maybe she was not as terrible as he originally thought, but make no mistake, his suspicions of her motives were far from erased by a kind word to his childhood friend.
What's more, Naivar forced a continued silence up on him as she addressed her previous company. “As you said about getting up, I don’t desire to need to do so again." A pang of gulit filled his chest as her hand reached out to stay the wraith and fell short by a few inches. "The pleasure might be all mine, but it was indeed nice to meet some one who… some one like you. I guess it is good bye then. Oh, my name… its Naivar… so maybe I’m not just a face in your memory."

It was like Naivar was trying to tie the knot in his stomach tigher. She had always been a better judge of people than he, more willing to give chances and think of the good in them. Her balance kept her sure of herself and those around her, told her things his nose and ears could not. But what could he do? It was in his job description to be trust no one and he went against that by unconsciously trusting Naivar's good faith in Ghost.

In the absence of voice, Naivar bandaged her ankle --he made a note to ask her about it when they got to the inn-- and Kahdahj found himself rather annoyed with the voices inside his head. Working or not, he was still... human, so why shouldn't he act it. Begrudgingly he turned his chocolate brown eyes after Ghost and sighed. Naivar had taken a liking to her company and --whether or not he admitted it to himself-- Naivar seemed to be running from him. Maybe Ghost's presence would keep his friend more at ease with his presence.

The blonde proved too busy in his thoughts to notice Naivar had stood and that the expression of discomfort on his face made her looked at him strangely. She began to speak, stopping him from walking away. "Well it looks like my leg is out of commission until I get proper bandage and rest it. Guess I’m lucky that you are lucky. So would you mind giving an old friend a little help?” Giving a her a soft smile, quite like the old friend he was in her eyes, Kahdahj let his shoulders fall.

"I was wondering when you'd ask. You're too stubborn for your own good soemtimes." The smile in his eyes shined honestly and only for her, but it dimmed to warmth as Naivar glanced past his eyes. "If you want her to come, I'll go catch her for you. As a matter of fact, wait right here while I do that."
He gave his long-time friend a quick kiss on the cheek and turned around to spot Ghost. Affetionate even for him, Kahdahj only wanted to show her he cared. Truly he did, and he knew that recent events must suggest otherwise in his friend's mind. Acting himself didn't seem to be working so he thought that he'd try something he reserved himself from: a kiss on the cheek. All his life, especially since enlisting under Borran's service, displaying a fondness for someone meant betraying them to a possibly hazardous situation... one that had happened to Naivar even though he'd kept the kindly gestures at bay.

With his attention back on Ghost, he couldn't help but think she walked fast as he jogged half the distance to her before slowing back to a speed-walk.
"Miss!" He called after her, trying to keep previous judgments in a small box in his head. When he finally caught up with her, he fell into pace beside Ghost to be sure she knew it was she he had been calling to. "I did not mean to... ruin the plans you were making with Naivar." He started, but he could not completely erase the unease at being so close to her from his eyes. "I know Naivar would be more than happy to have you along to the Inn, if you'll have her, and me, for company."

Kahdahj knew not what Ghost's response to this would be. She did not strike him as the kind to like social activity and yet he fancied he'd seen her reluctant to part ways. Then again it could have all been in his head and he too was looking for an excuse to not be alone with Naivar. He wasn't sure she was ready to have that conversation so soon after being released. Staying the night just the two of them would surely result in an emotional night.
Kahdahj wanted her to smile tonight.</sup>

[/sup][/color]

[.:~G:H:O:S:T~:.]

The wind… it billowed around her, but dare not touch her even in its gales. It feared her as did everything else, and refused to grace her skin with its gentle touch, its pure breezes. She could only watch and observe the blistered faces around her—made numb and colored by winter’s cold rose. She pondered in its absent grace as she began to put the previous couple behind her. She needed not their company, and did not desire there comforts or words, however… there was a certain part of her that was not as cold as her demeanor would have her, and thus… she could not fully ignore them. Therefore, when Naivar’s hand fell just short of her shoulder, Ghost stopped and looked over her shoulder curiously. Could there really be some who could look behind the cold exterior that the feit portrayed…? Very few trusted her, and they had a right to be nervous and apprehensive. Most of what they assumed was true. Ghost could be known for her wrath, for her hate, for her anger, and for her evil proportions. But, unlike her kind and brethren that bore no double-X, she was neither cold-hearted, nor immune to touch or feeling. Like a balance, she offered the world a different face than that of her stubborn brothers and fathers who would desire to bring trouble upon the world and all its inhabitants. She offered a mercy that was non-existent within a male’s heart; she offered minor pity when it seemed right to give; and she promised respect to those who deserved it. Granted, she still is little pleasurable company, and it does not take much to change her mood or opinions, but Naivar seemed genuine, and this earned her some respect, for not many offered the Ghost much of anything beyond a hateful gaze. Even Ghost could not fully understand why Nai seemed so… so… conversational…? No, that doesn’t seem the word.

Like a hag fish slipping through lines of silk, the proper term evaded Ghost’s logic and she could only ponder on why she’d offered generosity to the girl, and why the girl answered warmly to a vaguely emotional face. Ghost showed little, if any emotion at all—and as stated before what she did offer was very faint if genuine and faded rapidly before it’s strength could grow. The kindness she’d shown in her visage, indeed, was the grandest show of actual generosity and mercy that Ghost had ever managed—and half of it was spurred by her desire to impede on the challenge placed at hand by the blonde accomplice that seemed eager to drag Naivar away to their own parameters, where strangers—cold and hard, flawless and blank—could not enter or intrude. A place were safety lay in comfort, and where those strange and unknown proportions of the world were but subtleties in their present.

Indeed even Ghost was surprised by Naivar’s desire for a continued conversation for however brief it may be. Nonetheless it was still a farewell, but the words left Ghost puzzled.

Someone like me…? Ghost could not help but wonder to herself.

Naivar said it as if a compliment, but Ghost could not come to terms or even imagine how someone like her—pale, cold, blank as stone, and empty within the eyes—could portray someone… someone like her…?
How did Naivar see her? Curiosity turned her about, and her cloak fell from one of her pale slender hands. Its threads fell dormant at her side for a brief moment, before she snatched it back and clutched it to her breast.
An empty face—the previous warmth already gone and faded—tilted slightly, but twinkled with a curious spark.
Curious, she inquired, “Please, I am curious… Someone like me?”

Her face was neither offended, nor mocking, nor did it show malicious interest. Still void of most emotion, still cold and pale, if it reflected anything it was a warm curiosity—neither malicious nor demanding.

Sliding her eyes down to Nai’s leg, Ghost was not blind to the woman’s discomfort. Though the cold air stopped and killed most bacteria, viruses were much different and there were many strange things in the world of today. Truly it would seem as nothing more than a cut, but if Naivar was truly regarding it this much, perhaps there was more to its depth and perception than Ghost first assumed. Given the chance, she could assist the young woman with pain and speed of healing—an art Ghost had perfected over the years but rarely used. She was an alchemist of the botanical arts and specialized in poisons and malignant chemical concoctions. Her magic influence over such chemicals and purposes could transform and be used to help and heal, for it was a double-bladed magic. Yet, she had to admit to herself… she’d not healed in many, many, long years.

Tossing the thought aside, Ghost left the injury behind and focused back on her question. To be utterly honest and admitting, the red-haired feit did not express unchecked tenderness for either man or woman, or anyone for that matter. Her heart was frozen as stone, and like many had witness whatever sincere warmth left her pale visage, it quickly waned—soon encased by her morose and solitary habits.
Naivar had her respect, and that gained the young woman the feit’s generosity and what little compassion Ghost had. But while respect lingered, loyalty was far different. Allies were those who could be trusted, those who Ghost would care and guard with benefit to her. Naivar was no ally, but fortunately neither was she foe. Naivar balanced on a fine line that Ghost had drawn. The feit did it to everyone, placed a marker—an unknown expectation that had only to be met to determine the boundary. Ghost knew Naivar only briefly, had helped her for strange guided reasons, and was now prepared to leave.
She really had no desire to keep company, but here she was… and she was intrigued by their interest in her.

Even Kahdahj seemed to express a sudden change of heart as he addressed her kindly—but with what Ghost felt was more forced by guilt than sincerity. She read no true wish in his eyes for her to join them, but she felt it mutual. She smiled, but its warmth was faint. She could read the discomfort in his eyes and felt a sense of his true desire. She didn’t blame him nor begrudge him, but there was a certain devilry that flashed within her eyes at his unease. He was uncomfortable, and this pleased her slightly. She is no pure creature, and neither is her darkness a curse. It is a part of her nature and with all natural evils, there are certain aspects to even a kind demoness that is plague by a certain devilry and cleverness. And such a trait decided to surface now.

She felt inclined to accept his offer.

Perhaps there was a part of her that accepted under different terms—a desire for company, a desire for an ally. But Ghost did not understand nor accept the terms, and therefore the notion did not last long within her cold pallid heart. She needed no allies, and would not accept them unless useful. To her, the respect she had for Naivar, the curiosity she felt towards their acceptance of her presence, and other various, more devious reasons, were the only things that led her to join them again.

The conversations she would mingle into were unpredictable at this stage and she knew not what to expect. But perhaps she could learn something. Perhaps this association would prove useful in the future. Maybe a couple respected allies—equals in her line of sight—would be well for her. Isolation all these years… perhaps now Ghost could find something else in her life by meeting these two relative strangers—something other than peddling rumors and stories between two nations. Indeed… she had more than one secret beneath her. Not only did she bring sources in—occasionally she let some out…

“I have no need to rush off till tomorrow. I am inclined to accept your invitation, if it offers no imposition to you two.” The words she uttered were polite, but held little emotion.

They bore the same dark and ominous tone that all her syllable did—a tenderness that spoke in riddles and left cryptic symbols within the air behind them. It was as if her tone promised something else… as if it had a double-edge, something that was hidden or masked. And yet, just as likely, there could be nothing else but what the words offered—no deception, no malignance. But that was for every individual’s own paranoia and instincts to decide. For Ghost is merely Ghost. Its how she is, its how she was, and it is how she always will be.

[+Orphan+]

Some one like you… the words which had been a thought from moments ago seemed so far away when Ghost asked for their meaning. Naivar had to reach back to find their meaning. When she had first spoken them she had been unable to find the term with which she used “like you” as a substitute. Not expecting at the time to have to explain her thoughts Naivar mind refused at the time to divulge in her the point, and now she was fighting for a loose thread of what she had meant. As she thought about the question she closed her eyes to thing and block out the “distraction” of Kahdahj in front of her. As her mind raced to come forth with an answer she seemed to view the little memories of her past. I remember that day. It was the day I learned to sow. There, that day is when I scraped my knee slipping on a rock. Everything from her past, everything, seemed to bore her. It was as her memories came to the recent past from when she had been on her races to get the “bad guys” that things seemed to interest her again. That was the night I saw a man’s head ripped off with a shovel. Oh, and the night I saw that dragon slain. And then the night… the memory of the night where she received the long gash on her side flashed by. She only saw seconds’ worth due to the whole night being a blur to her. She soon realized that as things seemed to become than the normal human life that she became truly interested in everything. Finding her answer for Ghost she opened her eyes and went to speak. Unfortunately she found her “distraction” was at work again. The harmless kiss to her cheek was her undoing. Her cheeks went scarlet, her breathing stopped, the hard worked up answer for Ghost gone, and worse… her emotions raced through her. Damn you!
The desire, the pain, the friendship… everything seemed to hit her with such an impact that it forced her to sit back down on the bench next to her. Why do you make hating you so hard! Even though she knew deep down she didn't wish to hate him at all. Remembering finally that she needed to breath or die she took a sharp breath in. Emotions how, I hate you. Why must I be cursed to be human and be forced to deal with these things? Oh how I’ve always wished for such a life more than this. To have a life where I can’t help but nearly faint when he does something like that. A life where I don’t have to worry about cuts getting infected, to be able to heal! She was getting off on a tangent. Pulling her thoughts together she remembered her answer for Ghost, only know it had more to it than it would of before.
“What I meant when I said some one like you I meant some one different, some one who sparks my interest, some one who doesn’t fit the mold of the boring life I’ll always be forced to live, some one; for my loss of words of exactly your race: like you. You are truly a unique person to me. My life is boring and thus it is of great pleasure that I’m to meet some one like you. In your case more than most because I have met few demons and Halfling, they are all fascinating, but you hold something they do not. I haven’t a clue what it is though.” Naivar normally spoke fewer words than that, but the question, ripping of emotions, and the situation made it seem appropriate. If she hadn’t been sitting down facing away from them both, they would have seen the pain in her eyes. The day had finally worn her out, and being less than abnormal she needed her rest, a meal, and proper care for her wound. Human…
At hearing that Ghost had accepted the invitation, Naivar cleared out the painful memories of the incident, washed away the feelings that Kahdahj had resurfaced, and composed the anger that was slowly building up. A deep breath- let one last bit of the thought hit you- then from you mind. The thoughts out of mind, Naivar pivoted to face them. “Of course there is no imposition. I wouldn’t have extended my offer if I hadn’t meant it. We must be off though; I can’t imagine the inns won’t be full with the storms.” Hopping a bit towards Kahdahj and smiling at him as if it was a year ago and nothing had ever happened. Smiling as old friends had. “Kahdahj, if you’d be so kind.”

[[-censored-]]

<sup>Kahdahj took a backseat, yet again, when it came to the conversation between his dear friend and shadow woman that made his skin crawl. He listened to all of their words --out of personal instest not professional gain-- and waited until he was called upon. Naivar had many words to speak, a explination of lengths Kahdahj hadn't seen her give in ages, while Ghost had only sparse words to share.

It looked as though Ghost would accompany the pair to the inn claiming she was in no hurry should her addition not be an imposition upon the two of them. Kahdahj still had his reserves about the flame haired beauty; he could not simple igonore the stirring of unnatural life in the darker places while Ghost remained near to him. Even with Ghost so close, Kahdahj had trouble finding a scent. He had not known her long, but at times, she couldn't tell if she was real or simply some conjuring of imagination and fear.

Thinking about Ghost's accompaniment and all that Naivar had to say, Kahdahj wondered why someone as... balanced and kind-hearted as his Naivar wanted and appreciated the compnay of someone as... distance and fleeting as Ghost. In all respects the two were complete opposites. Ghost eminated phantasms and a sickly, twisted nature while Naivar radiated vitality and spirit. The stronger the wind blew the mote Ghost seemed to disappear; Naivar stood firmly on the ground, two feet planted in the dirt with her two eyes watching, intenty watching the people she spoke with. Ghost seemed to look right through a person.
Kahdahj repressed a shudder at the though tof Ghost's gaze.

Once things were settled between the two women, Naivar stood from the seat she had taken on the bench and looked Kahdahj's way. The goosepiples rising beneath his long sleeved white tench coat immediately disappated. There was something in Naivar that no one else could invoke within him, the ladies man of the town. Maybe it was the way she kept everything in line, knew when and what to say without lying through her teeth as he so frequently did. Kahdahj just leaned back on his weight and smirked her way, unconsciously summing everything up to a childhood of fond memories.

When she stood, however, and began hop-limping his way, Kahdahj wasted no time stepping forward and lending her his arm before she could finish her sentence. She smiled at him, too, as old friends and he couldn't resist falling prey to the beam of happiness. As he slipped his arm around her waist to take more of her weight, he smiled back the same light before speaking up for the first time.
"I'd be more than obliged."
And with that he swept her off her feet, cradling her in his arms against his chest. The ease as which he lifted her surprised even Kahdahj. Since becoming... different, yes, he knew his strength had... increased, but he never imagined lifting Naivar would be so easy. Many things had changed in Kahdahj since that day: his sense of smell, his eyesight, and most of all his strength. It never ceased to amaze him and at times he failed to restrain the new might inside him. Making a note that people, Naivar, were easy to lift, Kahdahj turned to face the second person in his company.

"Coming?"
In the end, Kahdahj's mind was on Naivar's ankle and not his mistrust in the emotionless shadow female in his presence. It needed mending and Kahdahj didn't quite want her walking on it. The sooner they got to the Inn the sooner either he or Ghost could wrap the injured ankle. Turning to Ghost, Kahdahj nodded in the general direction of town.
"I know a good place, unless one of you two have a preference."</sup>

[.:~G:H:O:S:T~:.]

ooc: forgive me if this post seems below parr, but I'm not completely sure exactly what to carry on with, lol

The cold air, tugged bitterly at the clothes of Kahdahj and Naivar, just as it did to every other straggler that staggered out in the streets against it. It's blistering effects left many people numb, but Ghost only felt the cold. The gales bothered her none, and as they blew she felt herself growing more and more out of place--a still figure in a world of movement.

She moved to compensate for her motionless expressions and moved beside Naivar--now supported by Kahdahj's strong arms. Ghost kept her relative distance. It was interesting how Ghost decided her cohorts and her enemies. That fine line was so random, so set at unpredictable levels--some even impossible--that many found themselves with a new dangerous foe, and had no idea why. Ghost herself was as unpredictable as her decisions. Some might converse with her and never remember one ounce of misfortune that was a result of their meeting, yet others sometimes find their whole world turned upside down.
She liked Naivar, if only because the girl gave her respect and offered her a gentle kindness. She also liked Kahdahj... liked how uncomfortable he seemed. There was always a side of her that liked to see that hint within the eyes of those who met her--that crest and swell of apprehension. We've said Ghost wasn't merciless, but neither did we say she was nice.

Following Kahdahj, she merely nodded to their acceptance and held her tongue. Nodding specifically to Naivar for her kind explanation. It was a slightly worded concept--Ghost didn't know if she needed the reason explained in such depth, but it was nice to know.

Thus the trio walked silently. The crimson haired, pale-skinned young woman, dressed in black, seemed an odd one walking beside the otherwise "normal" inhabitants before her. The only place Ghost ever seemed to fit in was in the dark and in the shadows. She looked about her, noting the curious faces and also how they averted their eyes, refusing to meet her cold stoney gaze--her blank visage. Ghost was everything they feared, every nightmare, every bad experience, every horrible past... she was the epitamy of disaster, and she liked the feeling. Shifting her soldiers more comfortably to better suit her clamped cloak, she smiled wryly--a small twist to naturally flat mouth.

Curious... indeed.

[+Orphan+]

The soft words that had left her lips a moment seemed gone now that she rest in his arms. It was as if the world melted away. His body warmth seeped into her body as she rested her head on his shoulder. It was in her nature to protest such extreme measures of being carried, but for some reason the words were lost on her tongue as if her throat had swelled around them. The feeling of control seemed to be slipped in his arms, she wasn’t even standing on her own feet any more; literally. Suddenly Naivar started to try to push his arms away, but didn’t get very far. As she had tried to move her arms to place them on his chest to push him away she noticed that he was far stronger than her and she wasn’t going to get far even if she managed some distance. Not bothering to attempt any more escape plans she sunk into his arms and tried to advert her eyes. Mean… jerk… I’d only meant to help me walk… ergggg… I hate him… Not really holding much to her words she was caught by the scenery of the walk to the inn Kahdahj had spoken of. It was cold and night was close, but the streets and buildings were beautiful. Looking down at the street it almost seemed there was a majestic order to the placing of the coble stones. It seemed to Naivar that some one spent many a days making this road, spent many a hour find and hand picking the stones, and a long time to pre-arrange the order of the road. She knew that it wasn’t all she made it out to be, but some thing in her head told her it should have been. The roads were part of the foundation of the city. Did the people of the city really not care that their streets where a wonderful mix of white, grey, black, and red stones. Or that if you looked hard enough the stones made images. Naivar knew that not many people paid attention to these things. Looking at a pattern that lead to the edge of a building, her attention was taken off the roads. Looking up at the building it was wooden, shabby, and wouldn’t last much longer if a strong storm came through. Its roof was made of poor shingles and wooden beams inside no doubt. The structure of the building was by far poor, but that was irrelevant to Naivar. She was stealing a glance at its character. The cute homey look of the slab of wood on the door with its cheesy greeting; the pretty, but not the overly expensive and rich looking, flowers that made you think of honey bees stealing honey in the summer; and the soft light inside the window made Naivar trapped with interest. Sure she had seen homey homes before, but before prison she looked at the different feature and not these ones. Since prison the new virtues and desires that ran through her pop out every now and then making her jealous of what some people have. What she would want some day. Looking inside the window she saw a poor looking family resting their children to sleep on a mat in their living room, lack of space in the small place. Kissing each child on the head as the mother and father said their good nights and then as they left they held hands. The couple was obviously still very much in love. Naivar smiled. What would it be like to be in love she wondered? Maybe she would know some day when… she didn’t do things to get herself in prison. The warm feeling that had been wrapping itself around her seemed to get a cold chill and disappear. Soon she started to get uncomfortable in Kahdahj arms. She wouldn’t even make the thought come to birth in her head. She knew it would never happen. The thought almost made her want to laugh. Maybe some guy from the country where she’d never have to worry about him by chance happening on her home, after all he was the guy flirt, so he’d be at the city normally. That or working. She’d miss that.

Oblivious to the world passing her now that her thoughts had her she didn’t notice as the group started to walk into the inn. She pouted at not seeing the exterior once she realized they were at their destination. The room seemed cheerful enough, though obviously starting to go to slumber for the night. We were obviously late arrivals. That didn’t bug Naivar. It would be easier this way. There wouldn’t be many to question the bloody bandages and then have her to relive the embarrassment of falling. Or better the disturbing presence of Ghost tagging along. Having her short attention span Naivar had almost forgot about Ghost, but the cold feeling that lingered with the group made it impossible to completely. Looking around for the inn keeper Naivar took note of some of the decorative feature of the place. Finding the middle aged looking man, he had a curious look on his face at us. Naivar hadn’t thought of an explanation for their appearance, so Naivar did what she did when she needed a swift answer; she looked quickly up to Kahdahj for words. Her face obviously gave away the “you can deal with this face”.

O.O.C.- Sorry had no idea what to really post about until at the inn so yea... thats what I wrote...

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<sup>Ghost came to follow with no words and Naivar as well, had slipped into silence. The quiet Kahdahj had expected of Ghost even if they had only known one another for mere hours, but Naivar? Curiosity itched at him --Why the sudden change of heart?-- and he glanced down at her to be sure she hadn't fallen unconscious in his arms. She was normally so lively, so full of spirit, but there she rested gazing at a passing house with dreams dancing in her eyes.

Returning his sights to the walk ahead of them, Kahdahj allowed his thoughts to fill the silence. At the very least, he had been looking forward to a set of caustic demands that he release her. It seemed as though he had taken too long in retrieving her from her cell; the eight foot, stone and barred containment unit had broken some piece of her.

Kahdahj resisted allowing a disapproving crease to appear on his brow. He had enough troubles admitting his failure to rescue her, but to think she'd been scarred in ways he couldn't feasibly heal without sharing the truth --his life would always be filled with these conflicting moments. What friends he did have since joining up with the military all knew different truth's about him, different histories. Until recently, Naivar had been the only one to know all of his truths. Now even she would carry a lie...

The arrival of the Inn's sign --an aged tree carved of wood with its roots forming the inn's name: Ygdrasil hung over the doorway, light splaying between man-made branches-- diverted Kahdahj's thoughts from that of his misfortune and replaced them with hopes of a warm night with his childhood friend. The chill approach of their third party quickly dismissed those hopes for those of an uninterrupted evening.

"Evening, Halman."
Kahdahj offered an upward nod to the owner of the establishment who returned the gesture with the same curious gaze. Not much more could be said or done at the moment. A quick look back to Ghost to be sure she was still with the group and he moved the group toward a sitting area furnished around a fireplace. The look was out of curdosy; Kahdahj could still feel the crawl of shadows at his back.

During the walk, his grudge toward Ghost changed with his stream of consciousness. It was not her darkly aura that brushed him the wrong way; it was her presence marring his time with Naivar. As long as Ghost remained present, Kahdahj could not be his true self, share his truest thoughts with the girl he lowered --almost too easily-- to one of the cushioned seats inthe foyer.

He noted Naivar's expression as his hold slid away and winked at her before turning his attention to the middle-aged man he'd come across to many times before. "You've got a spare room, I do believe." The reasonably large man chortled and glanced down at wood working. A pile of shavings littered the floor.
"Dont be cocky with me. You know right well we're the busiest Inn on the block."
"Only the best are the busiest, Helman, and that's a fact."
"Flattery wont work, boy."
Kahdahj pouted, but Helman's gaze had filtered past his shoulder to the pair of women by the fire.
"I ain't letting the likes of her stay within my walls."
The whispered words took the smile from Kahdahj's face.
"Naivar happens to be a close friend of mine and she's injured her ankle. Ghost is here to repair the wound. Both are going to need rest afterward and I was hoping to treat them both to a comfortable bed. I didn't expect you to be one to fall to the misconceptions of first impressions."

Kahdahj's glare proved deeper than Helman's and the forty-something year-old reached over his shoulder for one of the last two remaining room keys which he tossed uncerimoniously at Kahdahj. A grin of utterly pleassant proportions flowered on the blonde man's face.
"You are truly a diamond in the rough--"
"And. Someone left you this."
"Hm?"
Kahdahj quirked a brow at the envelope produced from below the counter. Two letters adorned the corner of the otherwise white exterior: WF. His insides did a summersault. A flicker of a discomfort filled his eyes, but he slipped the note into the breast pocket of his jacket without a second thought. When his voice returned, it came of a lower volume to be sure curious ears didnt overhear in the quiet room.
"Thanks, Helman. I wont be leaving with the ladies in the morning --Put the room on my tab. Someone will be by tomorrow to clear it compeltely. Cross my heart."
"Get out of here already --Hooligan."

Kahdahj returned to Naivar and Ghost jingling the key by its wooden number stub, a rather excited smile peeled across his face. "Got lucky. Room 19 of 20. The bad news, however, is that I've been summoned by my superior." The look that crossed Kahdahj's face almost looked comical in its disappointment; his blonde head tipped to the side, key dangling from a limp hand with its palm facing the ceiling as his shoulders drew up in a shrug asking 'what could he do?' Work was work; this is what he'd signed on for; he wouldn't forsake it. But for all of its comical statue, he looked very much like Kahdahj: confident in all his ways, no matter what life threw at him. He came and go from everyone's lives so often departures like these were almost expected.

"Second floor, end of the hall on the right."
His expression fell into a worried smile as he reached out to Ghost and gave her the key.
"Please. Take care of my Nai."
He would have to trust the scarlett; that trust reflected in the ease of his shoulders, his willingness to give her the room key instead of Naivar. What unease she might have seen in him came from his unexpected, unwanted departure although she might mistake it for her own demeanor, a thought that would not have been too far from the truth a few hours ago.

"Naivar."
Kahdahj turned to his friend and found her face, her eyes, and all at once the call to work sounded like the worst excuse to be leaving her like this. They'd only just come back to contact and there he was, running away again. Like leaving her in the cell, like leaving her on the capital steps. He reached out and gripped her shoulder with a strong hand and squeezed. No words could suffice to tell her how sorry he was to go just then; he hoped the action would tell her all she needed. He would be back for he could never forget her.

Letting his hand slip away, Kahdahj squared his shoulders and looked between the women. "If time allows I'll be back later tonight. Naivar knows my knock." A wink to his friend as if nothing in the world could trouble him. "Dont wait up. I'm sure I'll catch you again soon, Nai. Ghost, it was a pleasure."
He gave a small bow to the feit woman, smiled one last time at Naivar, and disappeared all too quickly into the twilit streets of Saverin.
As if he'd never been there to begin with.</sup>

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