Flashback A Murderous Meeting [Dye] [Mature Content]

[Clareen]

A Murderous Meeting 36th of Spring, 509 AV Market day had begun and Clareen was in the middle of it. She had been awoken by the sounds of outsiders, visitors speaking the language of the weak. That had always been what she had called it, a language in which each vowel was too hard and each consonant too light. Although she knew it, rather well; she wasn't quite fluent in Common, but she was at least competent in the language. Just well enough to speak with the dark skinned, strange visitors on Market day. Clareen wished that she could have been one of the vendors, or a popular customer; bargaining and babbling through the day about what item was worth what; just meaningless talk; like the idiots drooling over her. Although she couldn't be one the customers, she was stuck as a drudge. Claimed by the random passerby, having to do what each requested. Sometimes she would advertise, sometimes she would entice, but this time, this time she danced. She wasn't very good at dancing, honestly she though she was atrocious. Knowing nothing of the art she merely moved her legs here and there, sliding her hands up and down her body. Occasionally crouching as well as accidentally flashing the crowd, wearing nothing but her Lontev. She didn't do it for her own amusement at all though. She did it, because she was told to. As Clareen had tried to escape The Courtyard of The Sky, an Avora salesman who needed someone to get his booth some attention caught her. He saw her body and told her to stand upon his second table and dance. She had no choice but to do what she was told to do. She looked down at all of the spectators that watched as she moved her body, skin flashing through the openings in her robe occasionally, caused by the fast movement. Most were men who would've just as happily snatched her down from her post and petched her there and then, “What Pigs.” This was what she thought as she danced, no smile grazed her lips; only a look of disdain. She despised most of these people, and they were even “her, people.” They could all die that instant for all she cared, actually scratch that, she wanted to kill them herself; each, slowly, and painfully. She wished she could rise in class and maybe at some point she would, but right now she just wanted each to stop breathing; to stop taking in air they didn't deserve. She looked down on them, dancing for their amusement, she was doing it subconsciously at this point; unaware of how she was actually moving. Clareen glanced at the man she was “advertising” for. He wasn't even selling anything, no, instead he sat in his chair and watched her dance. He was no different then the rest. Only after her body, as much as she adored it herself as well as adoring using it against them; she hated that it was the only thing most saw. Male or female, it was irrelevant. He had only told her to dance, not necessarily to stay there for a certain amount of time, so she could sneak away if she was fast enough. Just fast enough for him not to command her to return.

[Dye]

These petching bracelets... That vile man... And that sweet, pale throat of his... Blue eyes played between feathered lashes, scanning the crowded courtyard slowly, calculating, plotting. The master had sent her, the master needed more wine, the master needed another cane, the master needed her to get back quickly for his last night in Wind Reach, he needed her body once more. Petch him, the pathetic excuse for offal he is! He does not know who I am, and what I can do... He takes me out of my city, takes me further from my god, the bastard! Each step took her further into the throng of flaming hair. She so preferred to blend in, and her gold and ebony hair stood out like the sorest of thumbs within a crowd of Inarta - and she only had 30 pinions to use! She would be known, the others could tell she was a Kelvic, the petching master made sure of that with the steel bracelets - spiked inside and out - that prevented her transformation, would hurt her delicate wings so horribly! And he always forced her to dress so modestly; thick coats and long skirts at all times, even in the hottest of climes. He wanted none to see her beautiful form, the woman she had become so quickly. Squeezing through groups, smiling wickedly when she bumped a child too hard, sending his treat to the ground, working her way to whatever stalls she could see, all Dye had on her mind was how to get the things she needed and get back to their rooms to kill the man and leave him in the strange city; they had already booked travel, and no person would question why the man was missing and not the girl. She would be back in Ravok before she knew it, but first the purchases. One stall, nothing she needed. Another, still none. A third, a man and... A woman dancing? Now why would this woman be dancing on this table? She mused, looking at the woman standing a ways above her. She moved as if thinking thoughts that belonged in Dye's mind, and she could see them evident on her face and in the almost disgusted way her hands unwillingly caressed her own body. She is quite marvelous... Thoughts of pleasure crossed her mind, and she cracked a wicked little smile. This woman knew what she was doing, she knew what her body did to these people and she knew that they could have been in her control - why were they not? Why did she not take this opportunity and slit their throats? 'Twould be simple to escape, she looks fit... These things crossed the kelvic's mind as she stood below the woman as voluptuous as herself, watching her dance and smiling in a more intelligent way than the men ogling her.

[Clareen]

The beings beneath her foamed at the mouth while scanning Clareen's body. What complete mongrels, to think that these low lives were her very own race. Petch men, such foul beings deserve only to have their throat slit after a long..thorough..torture. The thought intensified the groping of her own body, but only for a split second; not wanting to bring the males too much joy. She couldn't wait to step down and kill every single one of them. Sadly, she couldn't, this was her home, they would, kill her; or something like that. Not that she wouldn't enjoy that anyway, laughing in the face, spitting blood into their eyes. They believe they're better than me, I could take each of their lives and none of them would know the better, they aren't strong, they are only old. Why couldn't she get something that allowed her to slaughter all that stood before her., the so-called “elders.” A sea of reds lay before her, except for one head, there was one head full of black hair, or the majority of it was black; mixed in were gold streaks, like the stripes in an eagle's feathers. The head of hair wound through the crowd, stopping at different set-ups. As if the hair was searching for something. It finally landed at her current “Master's” tables; casting it's eyes upon Clareen's partially covered body. It's eyes did not beg for her body like the rest did, but instead, absorbed it for what she saw. Clareen glanced at the woman's wrists, what were those bonds, those...shackles? A slave of one looks upon the body of another, tsk, what a pity. She looked the woman up and down, looking past the shackles and the hair. Her body was Ravishing; Clareen wanted to own it, to abuse it even.The woman's eyes seemed to look into Clareen's soul. It was as if Clareen didn't even exist, that's how blue her eyes were; a piercing blue. She wished she could leave, that she could rid herself of this nightmare of a man that controlled her every movement. She could jump in the crowd when he wasn't looking, although one in the crowd could just easily claim her if she did. Glancing over at the so-called “master;” Clareen stared at him with a despise that ran deeper than her eyes. As if in retort the man began to laugh, “Remove your robe, you repulsive Vagik!” Clareen, despised him ever further now and looked down on the rest of the males, and the one ravishing woman. Why do you still stand there, are you taunting me as you get to hide your beauty!? It's not like anyone would stop her, they all only wanted to see more of her flesh; as all beings do, what was she thinking, only cursing males. This woman was no different. Slowly Clareen began to undo the broach that pinned her, “Robe” together. It was placed in the middle, so it was always more of a balancing act to keep the damn thing on either way. Popping it off she placed it between her legs on the table, beginning to remove her robe. She wanted to continue the show, because if she wasn't good enough then the male would only punish her for failing him. Right! Punish me, I would only laugh in his face as he beat me, I already learned to enjoy such things! Although she realized that she would never advance her caste if every one in the upper castes thought she was unworthy. Slowly she began to first slide off one shoulder, which would generally reveal that entire side of her body, but instead she held the center of the robe with her other hand as she slid the cloth off. She released the hand that held the cloth in the middle causing the all of the robe to fall to one side. Before her body showed for too long she covered it with the other half that was still on her body, continuing to dance. She then crouched, letting her behind stick out, and dropped the robe at her feet. After all, it was one of the only things she owned. Her bare skin glistened as she danced, and she remembered that her Tamo daggers remained in the robe, another of her possessions, and one that others would happily confiscate.

[Dye]

Eyes met, and the Kelvic's smile transformed from wicked to naughty, her mind spinning tales of this woman's body and her own, intertwined and sweating... This will get me nowhere, I must be finding the things the master needs! But still she stood, watching the dancer look angrily at the men and hungrily at the body clothed so modestly below her, that of Dye. A man beside her called out, and she turned on him, anger flaring at his crudeness - how dare this man be so crude, his throat so open and body so frail? Mind yourself, old man! She thought, but didn't say. Her look displayed all of the violence she could ever convey with her voice, her body, her hands closing around his wrinkled throat, his eyes gouged with her long, sharply pointed nails. Breath quickening and heart pounding, the man could sense how instinctual, feral, violent, angry Dye was. He coughed suddenly, and drew back into the crowd to hack and wheeze. And the dancer's clothes started to come off, and the vulture was once again mesmerized. One side, the broach gone, her hands holding the robe at the centre, another side, back turned, beautiful bottom out toward the crowd, and finally the robe was off. Dye stared hungrily at that body but, suddenly, noticing something glint in the robe, her attention was drawn downward. It was what looked like an intricately tooled stick, perhaps a club or baton? Whatever the woman kept with her, it must have been worth much for her to have treated it so gingerly. And so, when she felt none were looking, Dye suddenly leaped forward, grabbing the club with her right hand, and turned to escape into the crowd.

[Clareen]

Clareen continued to dance, but now she stared at the woman that stood in front her, the one with a stunning body and long black hair. Dreaming of the things that she could do to it given only one night with her. She danced, her nude body beginning to sweat from the friction. She spun around and showed her behind, only briefly, before spinning around yet again and looking back down to the woman. When Clareen looked down she found the black haired woman laid upon her feet and the sound of her “Master's” voice had become a hoarse rasp. The captivating woman at her feet quickly snatched the Tamo Daggers that sat at Clareen's feet and turned into the crowd, running off. Fury filled her body as she watched the most attractive woman she had ever seen steal her most prized possession. ''You petching vagik, you ravishing, good for nothing, beautiful, aggravating, enthralling, whore of a creature!!'' Glancing over at her current instructor, she found him still hindered. Taking this to her advantage, she dropped off the table and into the crowd, scooping up her robe and broach on the way down. Landing among the men, none reached out to stop her, or said anything to claim her as their own. Instead they watched as a nude, attractive dek ran after a strange shackled visitor that had only touched the dek's robes. That's how the male Inarta saw it anyway, either way, they enjoyed the show while she ran, holding her piece of clothing. Her breasts bouncing with each step, sweat running down the back of her neck. Shyke! That little vagik the only petching thing worth anything, I will catch her, and when I do... Thoughts flooded Clareen's mind, some naughty, some sick, all twisted. She wanted to abuse he body and punish her for taking her only possession. Right now all she could do was dream and fantasize about the mesmerizing woman as she saw her backside. She still hadn't even made it out of the crowd of males. Knocking over a Yasi as she stumbled out of the cluttered area she blatantly laughed aloud. Such young children shouldn't see me naked any way, instead someone should gouge their little eyes out to teach them a lesson. Clareen's anger had spread to through her body to her eyes as she had made her way through the crowd. Their yellow ring that generally only encircled her pupils had expanded out to cover a fourth of her almost neon green eyes; as if to match her anger.

[Dye]

Is she... the petching woman's behind me! Her inner voice was a growl, a screech, more vulture than the human she pretended to be in her daily life; despite the constant assurances from her master that she is little more than a vile creature, she sometimes forgot even her own instinctual reactions were that of the being she actually was. Dye knew the woman was on her tail, but she couldn't just transform like she so wished; the bracelets kept her from taking wing, the club could fit so neatly in her claws... Alas, this thinking is for naught. The thick jacket and long skirt restricted her, she reached down to tear the thick fabric - with all her might, it tore with a loud ripping sound, the growl in her mind echoing from her mouth as she sprinted full-throttle through the crowd. Men, women, children, all pushed aside with the force of every shove and nudge as she tore through the crowd like the crazed woman being chased she was. She saw a nook tucked into one wall, smiled evilly, and dove into it, making herself as small as possible behind the red sheet draped in front of her.

[Clareen]

The head of black hair continued to move through the crowd, knocking around the Inartans in her wake, generating a path for Clareen to follow. That ravishing shackled Vagik! I will find you and I will make you wish you were dead! Clareen reached the end of the path left by her future victim, as well as lost track of the head of black hair. It was no where to be seen. That Vagik must have found somewhere to hide! Clareen glanced down at her own voluptuous body, realizing that she still remained nude. She went to replace her robe, but stopped herself. If she put her robe back on then all the males around would no longer be entranced and instead would take her as their own, no, she must remain nude. That brought joy to her face though, bring on a smile; nude, she could shove her freed body in that Vagik's face. Looking around she began to search the area. When I find you, ooooh, I'm gonna enjoy myself more than I ever have before. Her mind began to wander to all the naughty things she could do with the beautiful woman as retribution. First I'd take my daggers that you so unfairly stole from me and I'd make you bleed, starting with your arm. Then I would taste your lips with my own... She stopped herself, this was not the time or the place to be fantasizing, for now, she had to find her. She turned to the very last person to be knocked down by the intruder, picking up his face with her hands and gazing into his eyes. He still laid on the ground so she had to bend over, placing her breasts in his face. “Now aren't you just the cutest little thing.” She kept her hand on his face and placed the other on his other cheek, deciding that it was time to put her hypnotism to the test. Making sure to keep eye contact, “Now if you tell the beautiful woman where her black haired friend is you might be able to bed her.” She whispered this suggestion of hers so quietly that no one else around her would hear the words but him, as she whispered in his ears. Her hypnosis made him believe that she hadn't said it, but instead that it was a thought within his own mind. He nodded in agreement with himself before speaking to Clareen, “Yeah...yeah, I..I know where the girl went. She hid in the wall directly behind you....in...in a crevice.” She smiled as the hiding place of the enticing female was revealed. Standing up straight she turned around and faced a red cloth that covered the nook, “You've trapped yourself pretty.” Her lack of common shone in that sentence, but it was still understandable.

[Dye]

Silent breaths, She reminded herself as her feathered lashes fluttered violently. Her heart could be weak sometimes; there were moments when it would beat erratically and deprive her of oxygen, and this was one of those moments. Her chest heaved and her mind flitted from one possibility to another to a third, her nearly clawed hands clutching the club directly between her heaving breasts and her hair sticking to her back with the sweat brought on by the exertion. The hands looked as if carved from ivory; their tension and colour could only be accurately described as stone-like. Dye's ears caught the sounds of the woman catching up, and the vulture peered out from a tear in the fabric before her. Still, she is quite delectable... But how could she be thinking things like this of the woman she had just victimized? The woman had made herself a target, and she deigns to chase the woman who takes advantage of her weakness? She allowed it! Then the woman bent and grabbed a man, and the bird in hiding could distinctly see his pupils dilate. What is this shrew doing? And then the woman turned to the nook. "You've trapped yourself pretty" Shyke.

[Clareen]

The stunning woman was now revealed as she peeked out from the back of a red cloth. Take her, make her yours! She denied herself, she needed to get her daggers back first. Clareen reached up and moved the cloth that covered the woman aside. Being clung to her chest were Clareen's daggers, buried between her beautiful breasts; It appeared that the woman didn't even know what they were, that she believed it was just a shiny stick or baton or sorts. “Give it petching back you ravishing...creature!” She didn't know how this confrontation would go, but the hope was that she would get both the rewards, her daggers, as well as the beautiful body that stood before her. Clareen's eyes moved up and down the visitor's body, taking in every curve and every sliver of flesh that was exposed; but they settled on her eyes. Those ice blue eyes enthralled her yet again. She hoped that she wouldn't have to use hypnotism on the woman, she wanted every second she had with her to be completely and utterly Real. Imagine everything I could do with you... Clareen stood before this woman, admiring her as she requested her weapon back, her one possession. She would get it back, and then she would have some fun...

[Dye]

"I suppose I have to give it back, don't I?" Shyke, this woman was going to kill her for this club. Maybe she could get the woman to let her keep it? Or perhaps even get her something... And her body was the best way to get what she wanted, the master always gave her things when she gave him her body, perhaps this woman would do the same? If not, my nails could cut that sweet throat of hers. I will have that body, even if I must devour her bones! She held up the club, looking directly into the mostly yellow eyes of the nude woman before her."Is there any way you could forgive me? It was shiny, and you were distracted, and..." Icy blue eyes broke from the frame of the woman before her, surveying her beautiful body. Perhaps this would accurately convey her fascination with the redhead's form, her wish to touch? Perhaps this would get her what she wanted: pleasure and treasure, as it may be."Your body is quite delectable, dear maid." It was overt, but just may work. She would bed this woman eventually. Er... Hopefully. Something like bedding her. That flesh begged to be touched... The master will wonder where I am, but I care none! This nude woman with the beautiful breasts and striking face was too entertaining, even looking at her brilliant form was a pleasure. But to touch would be so much more, and the interest in Dye's eyes would show her passion easily. It was almost as if she couldn't decide whether to bed or flay the human before her. Odd to actually want someone for a change, instead of touching none but her master. The vile, fat man.