Let Your Eyes Wander (Keating)

[Aello]

80 Spring, 511 AV Aello flung the door of the Silver Silver open, stomping her feet angrily on the ground as she looked for any sign of escape. Her eyes darting left and right across the street as her left hand tightened around the frame of her father's old bow, causing her knuckles to turn white with the effort. Her concealed blade chilled her right thigh to the bone, and her breath caught in her throat. She was drawing out, short, ragged, agitated breaths, and her cheeks had long ago grown red. Yune had taken her usual perch upon the young spiritist's left shoulder, remaining silent despite the rising level of anger that was coursing through her mistress. Her tiny talons digging into the girl's shoulder a silent reminder that she was indeed, there. Now where to go, left or right? Aello wondered, as she slowly shook her head, wishing she had never gone back to the tavern, considering how nothing ever seemed to go her way when she ventured inside. Seconds after the door had swung shut, it was pushed open again, and a drunken man came out. He was about six feet tall, towering over the girl, his shadow casting her form in darkness. He had dark, raven-colored hair that was worn long, in a ponytail, and dark brown eyes. His skin was a caramel color, and he was relatively muscular. "Just one drink!" he called after her, before draining the pint in his hand. "No!" Aello replied through grit teeth, her eyes flashing angrily. "For the last petching time, no!" The man tossed his empty mug to the side and walked a little closer. Aello took a few steps forward, sick of feeling his eyes bore into the back of her neck. More than ready to simply shake the drunk off and move on with her day. But the man was surprisingly fast, and soon had his hand around her arm; just below the elbow. "Let go!" Aello hissed, as she pulled on her arm, the man smiling amusedly as she turned to look at him. His fingers were digging into her flesh, making tiny red rings over her pale skin. "Not until you have a drink" the man insisted, as he started to drag Aello back towards the entrance to the bar, but soon gave up, seemingly settling for holding her up against the wall just beside it. "Seriously, you petching drunk, get the fuck off or so help you Dira!" Aello warned, Yune chirping madly by her side, and flapping her wings, as if to intensify the meaning of her mistress' words. The drunken man merely laughed, which only made pissed off Aello even more. Instantly, she raised her leg, bent it at the knee, and thrust it into the man's chest. A second later, she brought it down on his right foot. "For the last time, let go!" Aello hissed as the man curled into himself from the impact of her attack. But the movement was only slight, something he seemed to have hardly noticed. Something he easily recovered from, for he had straightened himself out only a few seconds later. "Well aren't you a feisty one?" he said, his eyes flashing hungrily, although they seemed to have developed a slight white film; as though he were blind, or being overcome by drink or exhaustion. "It's alright, I like that," he continued, his voice playful, his breath stinking of cheap bear. He was leaning into Aello now, his body pressing hers into the wall, his hands on either side of her shoulders. Aello's right arm was free, the bow in her left awkwardly hugging his leg. Slowly, her right arm darted downwards, if only she could pull her dagger out of concealment.

[Keating Ash]

Keating Ash was not a man known for his subtleness, neither in word nor action. And so when he rounded the corner to the tavern, and witnessed the commotion between the drunk man and a woman in the street, his fingers automatically clinched into a tight, hard fist. Before his mind could think upon it, Keating was in rapid motion. Not that his actions would have changed, even if he had stopped to assess the situation logically. But still the surly farmer wasn’t about to waste time pondering options. He was also not the kind of man to do a good deed just for the sake of helping out another. The rights or the wrongs of the world, Keating held in little regard, having been on the receiving end of heartache and tragedy too many times. High ideals and standards were for other people, not a man from the Ash family clan. And on a more base level, Keating had not had a drink all the day long, and was feeling dry from the lack. His mood was terrible, and a frown furrowed his handsome brow. A fight was just what he needed to set himself straight, and settle the raging blood that pounded madly through his veins. The two men were of similar height and build, though Keating’s obsidian hair was cropped short and very close to his skull. But the farmer’s dark eyes flashed with a simmering anger as his rough and calloused left hand reached out to latch unforgivingly onto the drunk man’s shoulder. Spinning the man around violently, Keating barked, “Don’t think you heard right Mister. The lady said ‘No’ – but if you’re wantin’ feisty… here it is!” as his other fist slammed powerfully into the drunk’s jaw to send him reeling. Only then did Keating look down at the woman, only a girl really, and he gave her a pointed wink as his fist pulled back, ready to punch the man again with tensed muscles, covered by a swirling plant design upon his forearm.

[Aello]

Aello's eyes grew wide as the drunken man's jaw cracked, his flesh sinking beneath Keating's fist. Well that was somewhat unexpected, she thought as she quickly pulled her cursed blade out of concealment, just in case things got any uglier. She held the hilt tightly in her right hand, her fingers curling around it, the thumb pointed upwards, towards the bloody blade. The silver edge was pointed behind her, the tip resting just below her elbow, pressing lightly into her pale flesh. Sending a chill through her arm, and then her spine. She could sense the soulmist that had settled into it. Aello's brown eyes had settled on Keating's form, a muddied red mist, much like drying blood having formed a veil around him; his aura. It denoted his being rather cranky, angry. Not at all in a good mood. Perhaps that is why he fights for you, to let all of the anger out, Aello thought, as her fingers tightened around the hilt of the blade, and she placed her bow against the wall, knowing that if anyone tried to take it, she could easily slit their throat. After all, you're a stranger to him, he has no reason to offer his protection... Aello's mind whispered, but then again, had he known you, he'd know you don't need it. "Now why would you simply want to beat his face in when you can shed a little blood?" Aello whispered, finding the use of her own fists no where near satisfying when she was angry. But then again, if you used them repeatedly, and with enough force, they too could draw blood... eventually. The dagger was far faster, all the more satisfying and painful. "When you could inflict so much more pain, and leave a more permanent mark on a man's flesh? His soul?" she continued, her eyes appearing as though they were peering through the two fighters now that her pupils had dilated. The one who fights for you is marked by a goddess, if you wait, perhaps he will tell you his story... perhaps you will find more men to fight; for there is definitely something toying with his mind. Something fanning the flame, fueling his anger, Aello's mind whispered. The girl gave only the slightest of nods, "if you decide that you want any help, you need only call," she whispered, her voice sounding unnaturally far off; much like her gaze. OOCMy this is awkward for my pc.

[Keating Ash]

Keating’s fist shot out once more to hit the stunned man squarely on the jaw that had just been cracked. The drunk yelped in pain and staggered back. “Now go on… get outta here!” Keating growled at the man forcefully. The woman – no girl, he corrected himself, distracted him with her words of blood and marks. And he turned toward her. What was she prattling on about? Why did women always think they knew how to do things better? “Honey, I don’t know what you’re saying… It ain’t about making marks. It’s about making a point. You just need to make it hard enough… and they’re sure to get it.” And for him it was about the physical release of rage and anger, but that was none of the girl’s business. Besides, he didn’t give much thought to why he reacted the violent way he sometimes did. “Don’t worry your pretty head. Blood’s spilled all the time, if you’ve got the muscle to back it up.” He winked good naturedly at her. For all her talk about pain, he wondered if she was one of those kinky girls that enjoyed inflicting it. He’d met a few in various whore houses that were like that. Dangerous women, but often well worth a tussle in the sack with. Keating’s dark eyes studied her appraisingly to see if he could tell... She offered to help him and he chuckled deeply. “Little thing like you? Gonna help me? I’ll keep that in -” but before he could finish his sentence, the drunken man slammed into his torso. Keating felt him connect with a loud, “ooffff.” And Keating tried to grab the man as they both were knocked off balance. Then a flurry of fists flew once again.

[Aello]

"First of all, never refer to a girl as honey when she can easily kick your ass," Aello growled. "And secondly, you can make a point by leaving a scar upon another's flesh. In fact, you're more likely to make a point, it seems, when you do... you know how some people get when they have their pretty little faces all mucked up, don't you?" she asked, somewhat sweetly; her tone still possessing a cold edge. "And don't you worry about anything other than yourself. Surely that drunk packs more of a punch," Aello scowled as Keating winked at her. Men, never bloody understand a damn thing... Always so bloody sure of themselves and their way. It's quite amazing that some of them manage to make it to adulthood with all their limbs; and teeth. At the last of Keating's words, Aello rolled her eyes. "See, what'd I tell you before?" Aello asked, as the drunk crashed into Keating again. "The drink numbs their pain, you know," she shouted down at the two fighters. "He may not be the most coordinated man right now, or the brightest, but he can probably tolerate far more pain than you ever will in this state," she went on, before stepping over them and out of their way as they tumbled around on the ground, trying to get another punch in. "And if you did want help," Aello went on, "you still only need to ask." She shook her head lightly, watching the two men with an amused grin, she could have ended this by now, if only Keating had not underestimated her. If he only knew that in a battle, size meant nothing; if you knew what the heck you were doing. "Especially if you want to end this some time today... he'd be easy enough to gut," Aello finished with a slight smirk, as she stepped out of their way again; waiting to be called into action.

[Keating Ash]

“Ain’t nothing new… girls and women kick my ass…” Keating grunted as he scrambled to his feet, before the drunk could get another hold on him, “all the time.” It was easy to slip away from the man’s grip. Luckily for the farmer, the man was slow from too much drink, and surprisingly Keating had not yet hit the cups. “Honey,” he breathed again pointedly, “no satisfaction... in ending it too soon.” And he landed a wobbly punch to the man’s face, but the connection was slight, distracted as Keating was trying to talk to the woman. The blow slid off easily without much damage. Women didn’t get it, the male need to fight. Women put expectations on everything. “A fight’s for… sake of fighting… You got to… enjoy it.” The two men circled carefully, dangerously. It was apparent Keating was enjoying this; his anger burned away as each blow connected, it didn’t matter whose. A swift jab to Keating’s stomach came, and he grimaced, slowing, “Gotta learn… to take just as easily as… you give...” he said through gritted teeth, the implication being if you couldn’t handle it you were weak. “I can take it. Can You?” Breathing heavy he watched the man carefully, but the woman was distracted him and he glanced at her. Bala! Women were distracting! Anger flaring suddenly, and Keating sent a powerful upper cut to the man’s jaw and he reeled and fell. With a dark gleam in his eye, the farmer kicked the man in the stomach; it was a solid kick with his scuffed boot. The man folded in upon him self, and when he tried to straighten, Keating kicked him again before he nodded at the girl, breathing heavy, “Suppose someone took that pretty knife away – what then?” He neared, not in threat, but to be closer, to look down at her with his dark, penetrating gaze. She was just a little thing.

[Aello]

Aello rubbed the hilt of the blade affectionately with her thumb, passing it lightly over its length over and over again, trying to sooth her rising sense of mild irritation with the nature of man. "That is true, ending things too swiftly takes all the fun out of it. Although, I still think it's more fun when you really bloody them up a bit, leave a few marks on their flesh..." Aello commented as a slightly sinister smile crossed her lips. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she stared down at her thumb, how it ran over the hilt. When she looked up again, Aello noticed the drunken man on the ground, his body curled into the fetal position. Well he does seem quite small now, the girl thought, as she stared into Keating's eyes. "It would make its way back into my hands; or at the very least, it would make its way back into concealment, nestled against my thigh, sending chills up my flesh," Aello commented, her eyes still sparkling. "And, I suppose, a thanks are in order for... making it so he couldn't get up so easily. Not that I couldn't do that myself, of course," she stammered, as she put the blade away. "You simply made everything far less messy, considering the fact that there is no blood to wipe away with the dark waters of the Lake." With that, Aello backed up, until she could go no further, for her back had pressed itself lightly into the wall of the tavern. She paused for a moment, before picking up her father's old things and returning them to their rightful positions. "Anyway, what do you say we go inside and get a drink?" Aello asked. "That is what you came for isn't it? A bit of the tavern's silver ale?" There was another slight pause as she glanced down at the drunken man, who was clutching his chest rather angrily on the floor. The girl strode over to him, and when she had reached him, lifted her right leg back slightly, and kicked him right in the center of his face; as though she were punting a ball. "That is the last time you will ever hit on a girl," Aello growled as she turned abruptly on her heels and headed for the front door that led into the tavern. Aello paused just in front of the door, and glanced over her shoulder. "Don't worry about him, someone will be along to pluck him and his belongings off the floor soon enough," she commented, before pushing the door open and stepping inside the bar. Once inside, she glanced around the place, looking for an empty table, not truly caring one way or another if Keating had followed her and was looking for one as well. Or perhaps, even more trouble. OOCSorry, but Aello couldn't just let you have all the fun!

[Keating Ash]

The girl reminded him of Rose, not in looks but in attitude. She held herself differently, but both had the same confidence, though a different darkness. It was the ‘I’ll take what I need…’ manner and all others be damned. Keating had to admit those kinds of women always intrigued him, as the troubled, pretty ones always did. Often to his detriment. Keating frowned, not liking the sound of a knife finding its way back to an owner. Seemed like trouble to him, some god kind of meddling. Or magic, or some other thing the farmer couldn’t begin to understand. Best not to even know and be done with it. The man found that too often trouble came uninvited, at least in his life it did. No use asking for more. Had she been any other woman, Keating would have inquired if she were alright after the encounter with the drunk, or even offered a large shoulder to cry on. This girl though, he could tell she didn’t want any compassion, or coddling. So he offered none. But still she was attractive, and he couldn’t help but be interested in her. He was shameless that way. “No. Thanks ain’t necessary. I needed to burn off a little steam anyway… and if it helps a pretty girl in the process, then well… who am I to complain?” “A drink…” he repeated, pretending to consider the proposal. “Why not have a drink?” as if the thought would never have entered his mind on its own. As she gestured to the now sorely injured drunk lying on the ground, Keating stopped to consider him. “Do I honestly seem like the worrying type to you?” and the farmer laughed loudly as he the door slammed behind him and with heavy steps followed the girl to a table.

[Aello]

After Aello had pulled her seat back, put her things down, and gotten situated, she glanced over at Keating, trying to determine what she should make of him. "Considering you left that guy out there, same as me... no," Aello replied, as she waved the barmaid away when she came to ask what it was she wanted. When the woman insisted on her buying something, Aello growled, "does it look like I want something to drink lady?" The lady took a nervous step back. "Just keeping him company," Aello indicated as she cast her gaze to Keating, and then back to the maid. The woman seemed to be shaking her head uncomfortably, as she waited to take Keating's order. "So what will you be having?" Aello asked him. "Some of the establishment's famous, silver ale? Or did all that fighting work up your appetite? Perhaps it's some bread you want, or some meat... supposedly it helps you grow tall and build muscle," Aello finished awkwardly. Not that he really needs it. Once Keating had told the maid what he did or did not want, Aello waited for the woman to leave before she started speaking again. "So you get into fights often? Or do you mean to tell me that was your first time... defending someone's honor?" she asked as she cast her gaze around the room. Everyone seemed to have a mug of ale in one hand, if they were not already asleep. Beer dribbled down men's chins, into their beards, where it clung to the fine hairs. If the men had no beards, it'd fall onto their shirts, their rounded bellies. Some carried a mug with them as they stumbled across the tavern, asking for another glass. Or asking to sit near a friend, or for permission to pinch the barmaids inappropriately. Aello sighed. Some things never changed. She shook her head lightly, before she turned back to Keating. "That may not be the only time today you're forced to fight," Aello said. "For surely, one of these fine individuals will hit on one of us before we can make our way back to the door." There was a slight pause. "The drink seems to cloud their judgment you know. Their ability to determine who is approachable, and who may stick a dagger in their gut." Her eyes sparkled as a mischievous grin made its way across her face. Hopefully Keating didn't find the young spiritist's words too intimidating. OOCHer thoughts are in bold.

[Keating Ash]

As Aello studied Keating, Keating in turn studied the girl. She was different from the women he normally passed time with, in bars or elsewhere. It seemed she appeared almost angry, though more than capable of taking care of herself. And as the girl dismissed the barmaid away almost rudely, Keating welcomed the server to his side and ordered ale with an appraising gaze. This night he could not afford the higher cost of the silver… luckily he wasn’t a picky man. “Just the drink for me… Are you concerned for my wellbeing then?” He asked, even though Keating seriously doubted she would care, but the man couldn’t help but tease Aello anyway. “Nah…I’ve been in a fight or two before, all for very honorable reasons of course.” Keating scratched his stubbled chin with a slight grin. He watched the line of her eyes as she gazed around the room. “They ain’t all bad, some might even surprise you given a chance.” His experienced eyes of a bouncer picked out the folks he thought were capable of trouble. “Though, I’m sure others would love to stab you in the back for that pretty dagger you keep…” The girl assumed another fight would find them, but Keating only shrugged, uncaring. What was one more fight to him? After all these years spent swinging his fists? He’d punched, and been punched, hit or kicked. Sure, he was often sore or injured… but what else did he really have? “You think I’ll have to save you again?” Keating chuckled, “Or you plan on saving me this time around…? Not that I’d mind.” His eyes narrowed slightly, trying to read her intentions “Or you just itchin’ to use that dagger…?” One thing was clear; they were both stubborn, both cock-sure of themselves, and their capabilities. While Keating had seen knife fights a hundred times, he knew size didn’t always predict the outcome. And he wasn’t totally convinced that a little thing like her with one dagger could hold up in the long run. Keating doubted she’d been in many barroom brawls. “But, hell! I’d root for you!” His smile was wide and honest.