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Waiting (private)
Topic Started: Sun Aug 29, 2004 2:14 am (214 Views)
Lamya
Unregistered

Lamya waited for her old acquaintance, Raven, to appear. She sipped her drink and allowed her eyes to roam through the crowd. She was of course looking for a prospective 'client' to take from. She grinned evilly and continued to play with the toothpick that was sticking out of her glass. It entertained her a little too much. Staring off in the distance, Lamya spotted a nice dark corner to retreat to. -Ahh I have found the perfect working place.- She casually moved her drink over to the corner and was then able to survey the people without the odd looks she was attracting. She pulled the hood of her cloak to her shoulders to allow her face to show. Lamya really had the itch to steal at that moment. She saw a man passed out near her corner. She put her glass down and observed the man. -He doesn't look very rich, but I'm sure he brought a few gold coins for drinks and dances.- Lamya glanced on stage at the girls dancing in near nothing. She spat onto the ground in disgust. She pulled her cloak off, revealing her pants and blouse. She wasn't the type to wear a dress. It got in the way of escaping difficult situations.

Lamya got up quietly and stealthy moved over to the man's table. She looked down on him and saw that he was drooling upon the table. -I hate humans.- She knew that men such as this kept their gold in one of two places. It would either be in his boot- she checked and didn't find- or it would be in his hat-she checked and found 3 gold pieces. -Ahh I've struck gold!- She cackled softly and scurried back to her table. -Now what will I do to pass the time?- She watched the crowd for awhile and found that all the men's eyes, whom weren't passed out, were glued to the dancers on stage. A few of them got up and tried to grab them. Lamya found this amusing and giggled uncontrollably. At one point, a man approached her table in the corner. "Ye a good lookin girl. I'll give ye 5 gold coins for a wee bit of private time." Lamya spat onto his boot. "Get lost you old fool, before I take a chunk of your flesh." She pretended to be a vampire and hissed at him. He was too drunk to tell the difference. He walked off to offer money to one of the dancers. Lamya saw with displeasing eyes, that one of the dancers accepted and they walked off together.

As time rolled on, Lamya got more and more displeased with Raven's lateness. -I would just leave if I didn't think I could snag a few gold pieces doing some odd job for her.- She twirled her hair around to entertain herself. She became tired of this and her glass became empty. She walked to the bar for a refill and questioned the barmaid as to weither a dark haired woman had walked into the tavern. The barmaid shook her head and kept her eyes on the bar. Lamya shrugged and walked back to her corner. -Hmm it's not like her to be late like this. I do hope she will arrive safely.-
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Raven
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A pub in the corner of existence was no place for the skeptical, nor the wary. As seen by elvish eyes, public displays in the most promiscuous manner were held here, for show and attraction. Women exploiting themselves, and acting as enticement for the male customers, it was to be considered a step above prostitution, anything for a few pieces of extra gold, not the mention the room and board given, a fine deal for those down on their luck. This woman of strange stature, a thief, a liar, a traitor to all whom she met, was not to be trusted. The very way she carried herself stunk of deceit, only the eyes of a hawk could notice that skip in her step, a gold digger, and a worm that held the backbone of society, abiding nothing by the rules, what goes around, comes around.

The pitch of noise that hung in the air, even from several meters away from this place was deafening. The hardy shouts and screams of drunken, sloppy men who had been allowed far to much ale, and should not be permitted in public longer, lingered here. A vampiric settlement it was as well, though it seemed humans had taken over the property. This must’ve brought displeasure, but it was questionable if what the tavern was created for, vampires, really was its overall intention. After all, had they not hired dancers for this bar? Since when was it custom for a vampire, a bon vivant, overall sophisticated beings, well known for their arts in black magick, since when was it custom… for them to desire human flesh?

Blood was their desire, sexual pleasure was nothing to them, relationships and longing for contact of another, skin upon skin was a foreign craving... Why this staff of wenches? When there could be sadists in chains midst the walls, feeding rituals for gold, instead of the popular prostitution that was portrayed here. A disgrace, and a nuisance, why this one had ever agreed to even show up was beyond comprehension…

Feet nesting idly in the dirt just out the door, fiddles and the clanks of glass upon glass damaging her ears, craving silence and the satisfaction of a whisper in the cool night air, displeasure was found in shouting over the chaotic noise just to reach sound across a 3 foot oak table. It was ridiculous, pure and utter disgust for places as these, was this one called Lamya favored? The little known thief, had her name been so well known her profession would be misguided, would it not?

It took moments of preparation, added upon the piling hours of dread to show up at this place, agreement had been made not to long ago to meet here, though it was still a mystery why she had even shown up, the opportunity for enjoyment edging against zero, and the pleasure of seeing this thief of a woman, non-existent.

Anti-social, reclusive, and sadistic were all words that would fit this ones persona. Human company or anything even near it was a displeasure in of itself. Being around people was a burden, and especially people she did not favor. There were a select few she dared say were a friendly, well mannered bunch, but so rare in existence the entire concept of humanity seemed a painful disappointment.

In the unending moments it took to push that doors hinges into gear, stepping in a fluent motion through the narrow crack she had grafted for herself, the uneasy tension that had built by the gathering hatred for all things that lingered here, had almost become unbearable. Get in, get out, and run away like a child from thunder that was the game plan. It didn’t take long to spy the ‘nobility’ that was Lamya, the criminal who should have both hands and feet missing for all she’s taken, rightfully so, but all to few ever caught the scoundrel, exactly as she was, a scoundrel. Hiding in the dark corner, she looked like an introvert all nestled back there, eyeing in on what was thought to be a good bounty, someone here must have some money.

All the courage in the world didn’t prepare her feet to make that motion across the room, graceful and elegant, fluent and flawless her movements were, attracting to her the attention only a vampiress would receive. Not bothering to say hello, a friendly greeting, her figure settled down in the shady darkness, comforting from all the hustle and bustle that was this lively tavern.

“If I had anything more to do, you can promise yourself I would be doing it Lamya. I hate to say I have found you, are the only priority I have, and I bite my tongue until it bleeds to call yourself a ‘Priority’.” Her voice as cold as the crisp night air, like ice against warmed flesh, minus the cooling sensation on a summer’s eve where the wind nestles your cheek, it was just… cold. Not bothering to order a drink, as a waitress passed, her hand moved with ample grace to retrieve a wine glass from the tray, obviously intended for a vampire, it was either blood for very thick wine, the difference in the dark were quite subtle. Whether the thick copper taste of blood were held in its depths, or the cool refreshing bristle of wine, it didn’t seem to matter, her lips taking in the crimson liquid until satisfied, leaning back idly in her seat, never letting the glass fall away from her hands, and starring coldly into the eyes that was her companion at this moment, the eyes of a thief, a certain comfort held, there was no trickery here.
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Lamya
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Lamya stared upon Raven with eyes of little interest. "I am sure that you wouldn't be here unless you had a job for me. One that you can't for some reason," she glanced up and down to drink in each detail of her companion, "do yourself." She snickered into her glass as she took another sip of the strange liquid that lie within. "Please let us skip the regular hateful dialogue and mistrusting glances and get to the core of our meeting tonight. You need me- I need you. Tonight we are equal empty souls upon this wretched earth." She leaned back in her chair and placed her feet upon the table. It was a rude gesture and she meant every bit of it. She knew Raven didn't like her and she wouldn't fall into the trap of being her slave in a desperate attempt to receive her friendship. Lamya highly doubted the girl had a friend in the world and that was one characteristic they shared. She concentrated on Raven's utterly emotionless face. -How is it that she is so in control of emotions that can't be harnessed without deep concentration and yet she seems to be completely relaxed. She will always amaze me.- Lamya shrugged off the cold feeling she was receiving from Raven.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lamya watched a fight brewing between two men. They were drunk and seemingly fighting over the same woman. Lamya was pleased. Things like this amused her indefinitely. She never tired of seeing a fight between humans. "Ah Raven let us share the festivities at hand before we get down to business. Seems as if two humans are going to start a fight. Isn't it entertaining to watch such beings fight over such simplistic things?" Lamya started to feel the gold obsession creeping up her spine. She had spotted the glistening money only a few tables away. It immediately stirred the feelings inside of her. Her want, no need, of gold was neurotic. It was a thirst that could never be quenched. Glancing behind, she saw that dancers had stopped their erotic dancing and were at a stand still. All eyes were upon the two men who had started a brawl in the middle of the room. They were tumbling and flinging each other into to wooden tables. This pleased Lamya. She clapped her hands together in glee. "Yay violence!" Her face went pink with excitement.

Lamya pulled out her sword in case the fight would spill into her corner. She really didn't want to be pushed away from her deliciously dark corner. The fight was becoming more and more aggressive. Two bulky men had run to the fighters and tried to part them, but they had only succeeded in joining the fight. She also caught the movement of a couple vampires in the shadows. They're taste for violence was an obsession in its own. They waited for the right moment to spring into the action. Lamya was becoming exuberant. She really wanted to see blood spilled from the humans. It made her happy. She wasn't one to start her own fights, or to even participate in one, but she did love watching them. It was something about seeing ignorant fools showing their complete stupidity in public. Lamya chuckled in pure glee.
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Raven
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An unhealthy scoff piercing her lips, this poor excuse for a woman had not an ounce of elegance to her name. Her rude nature pressing borders on this ones patience, and the less than content mood spilling bounds to displeasure. Oh how she did loathe this place, a quiet meeting was in order, and this woman who had so carelessly chosen the setting, out of spite it must have been she chooses the loudest most rambunctious setting one could possibly muster, the agony of noise deafening, and not the mention this fighting…fighting… another entire story in of itself.

Her eyes rolled for moments to the back of her head. Shutting her pale lids, painted lips twisted down into a frown, the woman before her, feet perched on the table, far to close to Raven’s face not only mad her uneasy, but disgusted. The rank smell of mudded boots pressing upon her like dead cattle in a rain storm, surprisingly quite a familiar odor. The entire tavern seemed to fall silent to the spell that was this show of two brutes decking it out until one clobbered over dead, or someone fainted either from the drinks or the pressure of a blow to the head. Either way they would both probably end up on the floor choking on their own vomit. What a pleasing way to die.

The prospect of death was never a fond one to Raven, fighting seemed pointless, physically aggression at least. Everything could be sorted in words, heated ones, displeasing ones, the torments of the mind posed a much greater appeal than the torments of the physical being. After-all, who was it that suffered endlessly day and night from physical torment their entire life, best break their mind frame and torment them for that same eternity, emotionally, spiritually and mentally. A much more satisfying pleasure, to break your enemy at his knees by mere words. Illusion was a gift, and a curse upon all those who fell under the spell. Something not to be toyed with so idly.

“I rather like the hateful exchange we partake Lamya. I enjoy watching you squirm in discomfort. I dare say this ‘giddy’ attitude does not suit you in the slightest. If you could distract yourself with a more pressing matter than two barbarians of men beating each other to a pulp, perhaps we could actually get some business done.” A sneer accompanied those words, hateful scowling marked her discomfort and distrust. Thieves were not to be trusted, of all the lowly warriors masterful in the arts of physical combat and the strange unclassified art that was stealing, the thieves were there most lowly of all. Backstabbers, traitors, ruffians, and overall disgusting breeds they were. Poise, elegance, grace, all words that did not exist in their vocabulary, nor did manners.

A rueful mood set in over the annoyance. Pity and a foreign emotion set in, perhaps compassion, most likely contempt. Whatever lenience was to be paid for her rude conduct, would surely be made up for in full, despite her barbaric nature, talent did reside in her, if thievery was to be considered a talent.

“A job. This can be arranged, though I had nothing in mind, I was quite sure it was the only reason you wanted to meet. Do not judge me wrong thief, bail is something I do not even consider, the day you get caught, you bet I’ll be in the crowd watching as your hand is severed from your arm. And you can also bet, I will be laughing as you writhe in agony.” A twisted smirk appeared on her lips, the only time she broke that façade of detachment. A pristine role she held for itself, shown in the way she carried her figure. And it was quite obvious the state she held this woman in, all things that mattered the world to her were absent about this woman’s figure, no semblance of aristocratic nature held true to her.

Back straight, and hands clutching idly to the wine glass stained in corners by the thick red liquid, it stunk of copper, revealing its true nature, despite her race, she seemed not to care what it was, anything of such gorgeous crimson color, was satisfying. Perhaps it was the sadist that resided in her, drawn to the notion of drinking away fluids that masked physical pain. A tormenter at heart she was, cold and distant, friendly was a foreign word. But a different kind of torment, possessing no real combat skills, she could hold her own, bluff if need be, not combatant could stand her. Breaking them inch by inch, invading their mind and reducing them to the sludge under her feet. It was the most beautiful art she had ever come to known, her voice smooth and cold, like liquid ice made from the thickest, richest of bloods in all the land.

“I do so hope you will acknowledge this, and do your best not to fail. Although I have to say, I would ever-so love it if you would fail. Merely to watch the guard severe your limbs, or even the man you will be taking from. I think I would find it quite amusing of you to steal from the brutes fighting at this very moment. What a challenge, when all eyes are on you, your crafty digits, do they possess enough speed to snatch gold or copper from eyes preening upon a certain battle. You may be witty little Lamya, are you so cleverly devious as well?”
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Lamya
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Lamya acknowledged the challenge. “You do not believe I hold the skills to steal from such easy targets?! Very well, I will take from them what should have never been theirs in the first place.” She grinned heartedly. –It will be most amusing to watch Raven’s eyes fall to the ground as she sees my skills in action. She will most definitely want to apologize. How agonizing it is to have to prove myself to such an unworthy challenger.- Lamya smiled at this thought. “If I win this challenge, this bet, I do hope to receive something in return.” She glanced at Raven wondering what lay beneath her cloak. –Perhaps she is full of gold. It is within her cloak of course! The shinny metal waiting to be held in my hands.- She licked her cold, blue lips. She retrieved her throwing dagger and her cloak. She cautiously got up and crept about the room. Surveying every corner, every shadow, she came up with her plan.

She would distract the two men and all eyes would follow. All she had to do was cause a commotion elsewhere, a commotion much more exciting then the one at hand. She grinned, slightly nervous, and crept closer to the two men. She put her hood over her head to hide the scowl that lie on her very face. It was a glare of concentration. She threw her dagger as hard as she could and managed to do what she had wanted. It caused a ripple effect and the bottles above the bar broke one by one. People gawked in that direction wondering what was happening. Some innocent fool screamed, “It tis black magic!”, which caused a riot. “There is a witch among us!”, another voice from a corner some where.

Lamya found this to be hilarious but kept her concentration on the two men who had stopped fighting to watch the riot. Lamya sneaked up behind them. “Hello fellas!”, she said in a cheery voice. She threw herself into them, going unnoticed amongst the other commotion, and managed to empty their pockets. She left them with a shocked look upon each of their faces. She casually walked back to the table to which she had been sitting. “Well that was easy. They never saw it coming!” She smirked at Raven. “Now why don’t you give me a job worthy of my talents? It is becoming quite noisome in here. Wouldn’t you agree?” She waited for a reply from the so-called most dangerous, sadistic, and evil being of Imythess. “Come now, let us go elsewhere to discuss business.” She finished her drink and threw the glass. It shattered on some poor fool’s head. He fell to the ground with blood dripping from his forehead. Lamya giggled. –This has been quite entertaining but if I do not receive a job offer soon, I will leave Raven in a cloud of dust. And that really wouldn’t suit her complexion well.- She waited for the commotion to settle before getting up, without a word to Raven, and retrieving her throwing dagger. –Wouldn’t want to loose this.-
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