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Addy teaches Eoin how to loosen up a little.
(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role playing forums. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)by Aidara on August 19th, 2011, 7:50 pm
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by Eoin on August 20th, 2011, 3:41 pm
This man could not possibly be serious despite the confidence behind his words, those humorous eyes and a ghost of a smirk hinting at a practical joke in the making. “You might enjoy it, how would you know if you never go?” Fenil added, only to have his words met with another eyeful of frank skepticism. As they continued down the hallway, the fellow assistant chef continued to insert occasional comments to persuade the other man, all of which were valid reasons, but none of which he took for further consideration. Even with the refreshing company, the Avora was not particularly swayed, opting to accompany his acquaintance to the entrance of Inclement Weather and nothing more. With their shift at the kitchens momentarily over, the two men were enjoying what little leisure time they had before another rush of visitors force them to retreat to their stations. He spoke little, preferring to take in the Fenil’s light-hearted nature in silent appreciation. It was a welcomed break to be far from the heat of the ovens and the demands of the Endals, Fenil’s own perspiration atoning to the influx of requests earlier that day. They were fortunate to have a decent amount of staff with the Yasis there, but their numbers only served to slow their operations down for many of the chefs were unaccustomed to the crowding workplace. Eoin was also caught off-guard, and having to delegate and instruct two or more Yasis at a time was starting to wear on his strength, weariness showing in his eyes. Likewise, creativity was sacrificed for quantity as the Avora was forced to cook more repetitive meals and in larger batches, unable to tend to each dish with attention as he was known for. At least, if anyone had a chime free, they might have caught the man standing before the spice rack in contemplation, even for a simple Dek’s meal. As the two men entered the hallway that would lead directly to the dance club, they could hear the echoes of shared laughter and loud music. Momentarily, Eoin was taken aback by the apparent joy emanating from the approaching entrance while Fenil merely smiled in anticipation. “It will do you some good to laugh like that.” His words edged in gently, but did not remain for long, passing like a cool evening’s breeze. With Inclement Weather in his sights, Fenil pushed forward with greater urgency with Eoin following at his own leisurely pace. Just as they reached the mouth of the club, two women stumbled out in front of them in drunken giggles. Considering the time of day, Eoin thought it strange to be drinking, but he supposed it was the result of stress from a long day’s work. The two females held each other for support as they moved past the men, one giving a clumsy wink toward Fenil before the other erupted in another fit of laughter before dragging her flirting friend away. The two men simultaneously raised an eyebrow, but otherwise their expressions were drastically different: one with a growing smile and the other a mix of confusion and concern. Eoin did not linger further, having completed his delivery of Fenil, he shook off his questions before speaking. “I will be leaving now.” However, before he could escape, an arm was draped over the man’s shoulders, the presence rather than the strength bringing him to a halt. Knowing he was running out of convincing reasons, not that Eoin was going to change his mind anytime soon, Fenil thought on his feet, counting on the other man’s patience for time. Just then, he noticed a woman approaching them, a lovely one at that. The corners of his lips rose as an idea formed in his mind, giving Eoin a pat on the chest with his hanging hand. “You can thank me later.” Was all he said, before engaging with the new female presence. “Hello there, have you met Eoin?” And with that, the man disappeared into the club. Eoin’s eyes were still on the darkening figure for a while longer before turning to face the woman he was about to meet. |
by Aidara on August 22nd, 2011, 4:23 am
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by Eoin on August 23rd, 2011, 11:58 pm
Like most Inartans, Eoin thought to decipher her caste before all else, easily pinning the high quality fabrics to a more privileged caste. Along with the sheer glow of health, it was easy to see that he was dealing with an Endal. She was a woman talked about in the kitchens as being the Inartan who took over the infirmary, but more commonly, as a lover of parties. Now not only was he caught off-guard and looking just a little bit tense, but he was cautious and even more withdrawn than usual. It was fair to say that he was being a bit of a hypocrite by treating this woman this way, but he knew his place, and aside from principles he was still an Avora in Wind Reach. This was simply how it should be, no matter what he thought. Nonetheless, Aidara’s smile was a relieving sight, and in fact, the air that surrounded her coaxed the man to at least relax a few major muscles. She was a conversationalist, and despite the well paced delivery of her words, they seem to whip right past Eoin and his bumbling reaction time. Before he could even fully processed her greeting, she had already wrapped an arm around his, the backdrop fallen and the curtains opened, revealing two cups of unknown alcohol before a fully stocked bar. He looked carefully at the drink, unsure if he should drink the mysterious beverage but felt it disrespectful to deny an Endal’s invitation. There wasn’t much time to mull over the issue, for Aidara had cordially pushed the cup into his hands, the clay cooling against his stiffening fingers. After a short delay he brought the rim to his lips to taste the alcohol, a sweet but refreshingly light taste, a perfect summer drink. He was pleasantly surprised, pulling the cup away curiously, for Eoin did not drink often and experienced little variety, preferring wine when he did. Automatically, he supposed the brewer to be his very mentor, Chef Davoid, his interest sparked by this typical – but to him, intriguing – beverage. Suddenly, Inclement Weather became much more welcoming, and just as he was about to continue tasting, a hand hooked his elbow, dragging him away once more. Eoin nearly hit his teeth with the rim in surprise, but managed to set keep them and the drink safe before returning to his feet, turning so he would at least be able to see where he was being dragged off to this time. For the moment, they had stopped at one side of the club. As Aidara continued to speak, his gaze softened gradually following hers, for the woman’s energy was so infectious that even he was feeling the effects, albeit slower than most others. He returned a small, genuine smile to her illuminating expression, pausing to think over his words before responding, curt as usual. “He was trying to convince me to join, but I only wished to walk with him.” Now that Eoin thought on it, this entire situation was probably the other man’s ploy to get the quiet Avora to “let loose” and “have some fun”, as if that he didn’t find enjoyment in his own hobbies. Sure they were a bit anti-social, but he just wasn’t the type to be…here of all places, yet look at him now, talking to an attractive woman, an Endal no doubt, with a drink in hand. It was almost unfathomable, but perhaps this was simply an arc in Lhex’s plan for them all. Rather than broaden his smile at her teasing, firm eye contact acknowledged her humour. When she raised her cup, he kept his low, not wishing to be unprepared should she ask anything of him. It was a wise decision, for flattery was rare and might have caused him to swallow unnaturally, but instead, he only raised his brows just barely, indiscernible if attention was not given. Instead of focusing on the compliment, Eoin decided to answer Aidara's question. “I am an assistant chef under Chef Davoid.” He sounded a bit textbook, but otherwise, was warm in tone. She spurred him further, and so he complied with ease. “I go on hikes, go climbing and paint when I can.” Aidara seemed to be waiting for just a bit more, but Eoin had no idea what else to add, his life was just too easily summed up in a sentence or two. Not to say he didn’t enjoy his comfortable lifestyle, but that his life seemed so insignificant in terms of the world’s happenings. How wonderful would it be if he could only wrap up his unforgiving memories so easily. “I have a sister as well.” His tone was plain, his lips closing with a sense of security. Bringing Noelle up so suddenly was a shock to him, for it was not a slip of the tongue nor forced out of him, and was entirely his decision. He could have hidden this fact easily, even if Aidara had mentioned her sibling, he was not obligated to divulge the same information. Eoin felt out of his element, and it was not only because of where he was and who he was with, but his mind was for once in a long time, momentarily silent. He didn’t have to work at ignoring thoughts, no doors to defend from invaders, no walls to raise for protection, just quiet, relieving calm. He credited this to Aidara’s cheeriness, and perhaps the work of the drink, though there was a part of him that knew sooner or later, he would have to speak of her like one would speak of any other. The lull would last as long as the two remained silent, for this was in part the work of waiting for her response, his hope that this would be passed over in conversation. He took a slow sip from the cup, savouring and delaying his obligation to speak. |
by Aidara on August 26th, 2011, 9:52 pm
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by Eoin on August 31st, 2011, 12:38 am
Eoin listened attentively, his gaze steady and unfaltering despite Aidara’s status. Her sister’s name was familiar as well, a woman of authority and dependable work ethic, an Endal to be proud of. Likewise, he was interested to hear of her job at the infirmary, and of the Wind Eagle Kelvic that he had often heard of. She spoke easily, unlike most other Endals, this was which was likely attributed by her recent rise in caste. Over time, he settled into their bit of conversation if only in body language, his muscles relaxing and breath deepening. Aidara’s momentary leave to fetch a Dek only aided in his nerves, a slow sip from his drink the final step in calming the Avora. Unfortunately, a hard jab to the ribs shocked him from the spell, causing the alcohol to escape its clay confines, splashing against his bare chest. Eoin acted quickly, using a hand to wipe away the cool liquid before any of it flowed to his waistline and stain his Bryda. There wasn’t much that couldn’t be cleaned off with a hand, and little evidence was leftover aside from a light scent. Subsequently, he paid little attention to where Aidara had gone, focusing on one matter at a time. Then he heard a familiar voice call to him, a hint of desperation to the female’s tone. Quickly, he scanned the club for the crimson haired Inarta, finding her shortly despite the gang of males around her. Eoin was already walking toward them before he knew it, each lewd expression and perverse grin adding speed to his steps. Little thought came to mind aside from saving Aidara, a natural reaction fuelled by a strangely, compelling duty to succeed. Perhaps it was the situation, a strong woman overpowered by the indecent actions of men, a scene all too familiar to his past that drove him to such emotional thresholds. If there was someone like him at the time of his conception, perhaps he would not have to live with the burden of his mother’s trauma, and she with a mind that degraded day by day. In fact, he wouldn’t live at all, unable to carry on the blood of his wicked sire. However, that mattered little, for their society bred men like his maker like rabbits, one after the other sprouting from a bottomless hole. Those thoughts fell below the rage of his subconscious, a simmer of heat that cooled to a chilling cold, his eyes hardened as emotions drained. Anger was unlike him, for the man practised patience with diligence. Yet, this struck an enflamed wound with burning alcohol, reawakening wrath long forgotten and even longer, suppressed. Both men, soaking in their victory and Aidara’s helpless beauty, were blind to Eoin’s approach. The friend did manage to catch a glance, but was unable to warn the other before the Avora sent a heavy kick to the back of his shin, forcing the man to kneel. He didn’t go down so easily, and was even quicker to recover from his half fall, but did slip in his firm hold on the Endal’s body. As Aidara began to reclaim her dignity, Eoin continued on his emotionless rampage, sending a debilitating punch to the wobbling man’s face, his body following as he stumbled backwards, this time falling from the unexpected strength. Athleticism was not his best trait, but he did have toughened hands from the daily grind in the kitchens, and combined with his current state of mind, Eoin made for a difficult enemy. His gaze was a penetrating green, but was blind to the offender’s pain and of Aidara’s fight against the other man. He took a few steps toward the thug, who in his pride, wasn’t quite ready to run from a fight he could not win. Even still, a dawning fear began to creep from the edges of his drunken eyes. Then suddenly, knuckles flew in from one side, colliding squarely with Eoin’s cheek. He took but a few heavy footfalls to steady himself, hardly enough considering the strength behind the other man’s punch. The Avora felt little pain, but did take a moment to actually look at his assailant, confirming the identity to be the thug’s friend. A similar fear veiled the man’s eyes, but his judgement was clouded by the alcohol within, pushing him to challenge the Avora that had spoiled their fun. He tried to land another hit, but Eoin managed to catch his wrist in time, his fingers closing in on the sensitive area. However, as the quickened palpitations of the man’s heartbeat and the desperation etched lines into his face, Eoin began to realize what he was doing. Regretfully, he released his hold, revived judgement disintegrated his guard, leaving the Avora open to another punch, this time to the gut. The friend gave a foolish grin of accomplishment mixed with drunken stupor, before looking over to the other man for approval. Unprepared, his body withdrew slightly in attempt to isolate the pain, his back hunching. |
by Aidara on August 31st, 2011, 9:51 pm
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by Eoin on September 2nd, 2011, 1:14 am
As he began to straighten his body, Eoin saw Aidara coming to his aid, having freed herself from the other man. She seemed unnaturally enraged, and the Avora was blind to the emotions fuelling her devastating attacks. He didn’t bother entertaining the thought that it was in part, out of concern for him, and instead believed the Endal was merely putting the thugs to rest before they cause further harm to herself or others, as a protector of Wind Reach should. Though he wasn’t one to condone violence, he could not help but be impressed by the damage this woman was inflicting on the man. From the precision of her hits and strategic aiming for various parts of the body, Eoin could tell had he not known already that Aidara was knowledgeable in anatomy. However, the emotion soon passed and concern took its place, building upon a foundation of pity. There was little time to reflect, for the main thug was returning to his feet just as he was, convincing himself that he had the less fearsome opponent as he took fleeting glances toward his bleeding friend. He wasn’t mistaken, but that did not mean Eoin was an easy target, even if the rage within was beginning its retreat. The pain was somewhat bearable, considering the strength of his will, but having been hit in the same spot after only a few days since his last, unexpected brawl, the Avora was finding it difficult to even stand comfortably without considerable ache. Fortunately, he needed not swallow the pain further, for Aidara came charging at his opponent, pelting him with hit after hit. Clearly overwhelmed by the smaller Inarta, he fled through the sea of spectators, abandoning his comrade to save his own skin. Then, despite the wounds on her hands, Aidara immediately took charge, impressing the man further with her strength. Just so, Eoin was disappointed in his own efforts, unable to help the woman fully, and having an Endal bleed for his inadequacies. Meekly, the thug writhed, too afraid to reach for his face to confirm the damage done to his jaw. The Avora could not help but feel responsible as his gaze began to dim, staring with slight horror at the man’s injuries, a sinking shame weighing his heart. With his mind elsewhere, the man barely registered Aidara’s touch, her arm gently guiding him away from the scene. At first, Eoin was somewhat shocked to hear the woman’s light-hearted response to the entire fight, but as they continued to walk together in silence, he realized that perhaps she was desensitized to the injuries and violence, since she was both a hunter for Wind Reach and the head of the infirmary. In his youth, he had been a few brawls here and there, with as many in self-defence as there were in anger. Those days were harsh times, an endless cycle of hunger, rage and violence spiralling out of control, and did. Melancholy seeped into his thoughts, but he tried not to let his emotions faze him, displeased as he was with how often they had overwhelmed him the past few days. Perhaps it was the strength of Syna’s light in summer and the sweltering heat of the kitchens that encouraged irritation. He knew not what the source was, else the man would be determined to nip the issue at the bud. Easily, a laugh passed through her lips, breaking Eoin’s focus once more. Naturally, the man was confused, debating whether or not the Endal truly enjoyed brawling or not considering the contradiction between that and her chosen skills. Confusion tinted his eyes, but faded the longer she kept contact, a question of concern giving him a more tangible problem to solve. “Do not worry about me, I’m fine.” In the morning however, that’d be a different story. Right now, the effects were merely surface pain, but already the sensation was deepening, likely forming colourful and exposed bruises in the days to come. She seemed to evoke worry through her gaze, but Eoin was not certain in his ability to discern emotions, appreciating the strange idea nonetheless. Briefly, he wondered if this was how Rista and Vala had felt when he treated them with equal respect, being of lower castes themselves . Not to say Aidara was doing the same, which he couldn’t be sure of, though her expression and glances toward his chest were beginning to add supporting evidence that even he could not dismiss. True or not, he didn’t feel worthy of an Endal’s concern. Having idolized these special individuals since childhood, it was difficult for Eoin to put the possibility into perspective. With each step, her arm swung naturally at her side, exposing patches of crimson on her weeping knuckles. Eoin shifted his gaze after a while to take a look at her injuries, eyebrows slowly meeting in concern. Then, boldly, the Avora reached for her hand, lifting from the palm up with care. Since he began to reconnect with the world outside of his own mind, Eoin had been causing others to be injured because of him, but could do little to help them due to his principles. Not all were of his fault, but that did not matter to the man, for carrying responsibility and its burdens seemed natural to him. In a way, he was hesitant in touching others, having proved to himself that it could lead to disastrous ends. However, the man had an affinity to physical contact, and life had been stifling without it. With their hands now connected, even Eoin was starting to feel a bit less withdrawn, and a bit more himself. Though he was not the expert in medicine, he wished to examine the wounds with his own eyes. Upon seeing the peeling skin and cuts in greater detail, he knew to bath the wound in order to gently remove any surrounding dirt to deter infections, but would leave it to Aidara to do so for she had greater knowledge in the matter. “You shouldn’t have bled for me.” Her eyes reflected his as he spoke, firm but unassuming. As Eoin turned his attention back to her elevated hand, he caught sight of her clinging vinati, the fabric drenched and shamelessly transparent. Despite his humble demeanor, he was still a man, and though he averted his eyes by looking into hers, his thoughts were not so quick to switch topics. Aside from that slight pause, Eoin was unchanged as he continued to speak, calm and steady as usual. “You should change into dry clothes.” He needn’t advise her on the reasons why, she was a healer after all. Slowly, he placed her hand where he found it, leaving it to hang comfortably once more. “I can accompany you if you wish.” Eoin didn’t really want to leave Aidara alone right now, in fear that the two men would return for another round, this time to appease their hurt pride and petty revenge. He didn’t mind the Endal’s company either, her whimsical conversation a welcome change from his often weighty thoughts and her appearance easy on the eyes. |
by Aidara on September 5th, 2011, 3:31 am
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by Eoin on September 13th, 2011, 12:41 am
The thought had crossed his mind, but Eoin did not think much of it, dismissing the idea as fantasy. Women were generally put off by him, finding his demeanour too quiet and dull, interpreting the lacking conversation as disinterest. He rarely met anyone as understanding as Aidara, though many equally playful in nature, and being an Endal as she was, the man did not think she’d even consider him as an option. With her frequent parties and social gatherings, Eoin believed the woman was never lacking in a willing partner or in companionship, and wrote off the idea of shared furs as impossibility. Sexuality was so open in their culture, that even he did not escape its influence, but true to his nature, he disliked short term engagements. That’s why, when the enchanting Endal invited him into her home, the man was at a complete loss for words. Fortunately, words were not required of him. For what seemed to be the hundredth time tonight, Eoin had managed to hurt himself, every muscle tensing to isolate the stinging sensation to its source. He almost thought this to be an omen from the gods to reject Aidara’s gesture, but logic brushed aside that baseless reasoning with ease, for the gods couldn’t be all that concerned with a simple Inarta. What ache was sustained from the fall was eased by a clear, full laugh, a reaction often interpreted as a sign of humiliation but now, seemed to radiate warmth. This was ridiculous, how easily he received her actions despite how much they – literally – hurt him. There was respect, and attraction, but Eoin almost felt manipulated now. She was changing the way he was seeing the world, however insignificant the changes seem, and worst of all, the woman didn’t even realized what she was doing. Fleeting as ever, Aidara disappeared once more into another section of the aerie, leaving the man to recover alone. Pulling himself up, the Avora followed blindly, uncertain of his own intentions for the first time in a long time. As a person of modest tastes but appreciation for aesthetics, Eoin’s somewhat high expectations were met upon setting sight on the washroom’s design. Though he expected the plentiful feminine and grooming products, their presence still unnerved him, and he began to remember the presence of yet another: Aidara’s bondmate, the Wind Eagle Sira. Caution immediately set its fangs into his every action, the shallow rise and fall of his chest to the firm and hardened gaze. Despite hearing rumours of their open relationship, Eoin was still nervous in engaging in such an act with a taken woman. In fact, it was still difficult for him to even fathom the reality of the idea. Thus, he took greater attention in watching the Endal’s wounds, and almost seemed a bit too observant as he watched the water run the blood out from each tear. His eyes were unrelentless in tracking her movements, watching each delicate finger brush his, pulling and pressing. Watching as the tips began to wander, lost in their analysis, exploring solely upon unspoken desires. They fell lower, nerves tensing his muscles and gaze, a shield for his increasing heart rate. He felt the need to remove her hands as they descended closer to the lining of his bryda, but was in part relieved and disappointed when she pull herself away. The woman apologized, rouge dotting her cheeks, but he barely caught sight of her embarrassment before she turned away abruptly to check the water, leaving the man to recollect himself. A deeper, but silent exhale helped calm his thoughts. However, it did not completely remedy his pulse, the blood rapidly warming his body, some areas more than others. “Thank you.” Eoin replied with a smooth tone that seemed a bit strained, his mind wrangling with his body’s natural instincts. It seemed, for whatever reason, that summer encouraged emotion. He was finding it harder and harder to restrain himself in various situations, including the present scenario, his hand meeting her arm before he had even realized it. His grasp was firm, but not demanding, aside from the needy heat that radiated from his palm. When Aidara turned to face him, she’d find a still pair of eyes reflecting her own, with embers in their infancy. It was almost as if he was stopping her from bathing, from unclothing herself before him. Not to say that was what the woman was going to do, but Eoin just wanted to be sure, to be safe. Intimacy revealed more than he cared to, and he was uncertain of Aidara, uncertain of Fenil, of everyone. “I will leave you to your bath. Good night Aidara.” Eoin spoke after a held silence, pausing once more for the Endal to process his words before releasing his grip. There was a quiet confidence to him, and it showed well now out of all times, despite the lack of courage he demonstrated. Taking a step closer to the exit, he began to turn his body away, his mind still racing. |
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