Unlearned Lesson (Lucillius)

[Yoona]

7th Day of Summer, 514 AV

The light purple bruising that fringed her knuckles stood out against the reddish-bronze skin, the hand that it marred still clutched into a fist. And on the back of that hand, seared into the topmost flesh, was half of a sun that was only three days old. Three days. But she remembered the moment as clearly as if it had happened yesterday, and the feelings that came surging with it. Pain, later overwhelmed by an all-consuming fury that boiled within her chest and threatened to spill over.

Yoona hadn't meant to hit him. She hadn't meant to ball her fist and dig her nails into her own flesh. She hadn't meant for that fist to lash out, either, connecting with the space just above the man's jaw and left cheek. It was an unexpected thing...an impulse, an instinct. At the same time, the Chaktawe woman would have been lying to herself if she'd said that the punch hadn't given her an immediate sense of pleasure.

Issac stumbled back a few steps, his back colliding with the wall as a hand flew up to grip at his bruised face. Pain and shock apparent on his face, his gaze settled on her, and Yoona found herself taking a step back. Not out of fear, but of worry. Sudden concern for her own safety, along with a need to flee as soon as she could manage. But she was in shock, herself, and could only stare at the man with wide, coal-black, pupil-less eyes.

The Stryfe soldier's eyes hardened. "You petching little..."

Without a single word, Yoona twisted around and went flying out the door. Issac wasted no time in going after her, begrudgingly pulling his hand away from his aching face as he began to sprint.

The Chaktawe woman didn't look behind herself as she went, though an idea crossed her racing mind as she tore through the streets. She was in a great deal of trouble now, no doubt. And if her "master" managed to catch up to her, there was no telling what he'd do.

'No...he can do whatever the hell he wants...I'll fight him all the same.'

She could. She would. She kind of wanted to. Issac had gone on long enough pushing her around as he did...the man would claim that the Chaktawe didn't know her place, but Yoona could say the same thing about him. There was no balance between the two, no equilibrium that led to a mutual tolerance, and there probably never would be. Yoona could take the orders and the forced errands, but if the wretch couldn't understand the concept of personal space, she'd put her foot down. That was her limit.

To be honest, she wasn't sure if he'd had truly scandalous intentions those few chimes ago, but he'd been acting a bit more touchy than normal. Yoona assumed that he had gone and drank himself into stupidity.

Which wasn't, of course, an excuse.

So he'd touched her a little. And she, acting on the instinct that was embedded into all females, human and non-human, had responded in the appropriate way; by socking him in the face.

Streaking by stands and bewildered Ravokians, Yoona suddenly dove to the side and shoved at some barrels that had been lining the road, sending them tumbling behind her.

It wouldn't stop him, completely. But at the very least, he'd be slowed down.

The sound swearing and stumbling coming from behind her brought a smirk to her face.

"Tawna" | "Common" | 'Thoughts' | Ruki

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

Luc vividly remembered waking up in the morning and thinking, What will my day be like today? It was the very first thought that he was confronted with, and one that filled him with both a sense of dread and of excitement. He knew that the day was likely going to wind up behaving exactly the same as any other day in his life - wake up, eat some breakfast, meet some clients in town, get drunk, get high, waste the night in some alley - but part of him also believed, very strongly believed, that something more substantial might occur. It was never too late to have an adventure, he thought, and maybe, just maybe, his day would end up becoming something to remember. What will my day be like today? He remembered thinking.

The answer? This is the type of day where I get to watch a drunk Stryfe soldier get tipped over in the street. All in all, a very good day for Lucillus Nitrozian.

He was never expecting to see the type of the show that came, racing and drunkenly stumbling about, towards him on the street. He had just finished a meeting with a concerned client - some boring shyke about a broken promise the Nitrozians had made about a promised extension to the docks - and had stopped at the side of the street to check the contents of his scrollcase. I hope I didn't forget the petching contract inside the old bat's home... if I did, that means I have to tromping back inside, past her filthy living quarters, to go and retrieve it. So far, his prophecy that the day would prove to be boring, inconsequential, and trite was coming unfortunately true. At this rate, he could only look forward to the thought of slipping over to his drug den in time for another hit of the good stuff.. and rumour had it that his dealers had acquired a brand new chemical that completely floored the senses. It was a pedestrian reason to get excited, but at least Luc could revel in it.

And then, from out of nowhere, the show came. A blur of tan came racing up the road followed by a clumsy and off-balance man, whom Luc soon identified as a Stryfe soldier. At first, he thought he had stumbled into some official Ebonstryfe business, and this soldier was going after a criminal of some kind. His immediate reaction was to get his head down and find someplace to hide, because only a fool stood gawking when the hammer of Ravok was doing performing its duty. Then he heard the muttered curses that came racing from the man's slurring mouth, and realized that he was promising to wring the neck of his slave, not a criminal. The slave - whom the lawyer had trouble discerning beyond the colour of her skin and her gender - didn't seem to care all that much about the threats, and shoved some barrels into the path of the soldier. Like an act performed by a troupe of fools, the idiot Stryfe was swooped off his feet and crashed thunderously onto the ground, drawing a grin from the observant Luc. Immediately he wiped the grin off his face, for such an expression was heresy in Ravok, but he kept laughing at the man inside his head. Praise Rhysol, of course, but petch me if the Ebonstryfe don't deserve this treatment more often. Bunch of pricks with a whole lot of steel at their command, and not much else.

Greatly amused by the antics, Luc craned his neck over to catch a glance of the departing slave. She was running very, very quickly - he could barely keep up with her, she was so fast - but eventually he managed to get his first real look at the fleeing woman. His first impression of her was that of muscle; this was a well-built, warrior slave, not some wilting flower suited only for serving juice indoors. He briefly wondered why a Stryfe soldier would deign to keep a rebellion-in-the-making as a personal slave, but soon realized why upon getting his second impression of her body. Instantly his eyebrows shot up and his mouth parted open, struck by the beauty of this strange, exotic woman. Praise be to Rhysol for the wonders of the earth, for he understands what makes the guarded hearts of men beat. But more than anything else, the lawyer, upon watching the foreign woman flee into the crowded streets, was impressed with her brave actions. It's not often a slave has enough spirit to resist the Stryfe, even if they are new... it's a shame that she's most likely going to be executed for this kind of resistance.

A real shame. And a shame that I can't do anything about it.

A real damn shame. I should turn away now and get back to my business.

Sighing, Luc took one more glance at the Stryfe soldier, who was still struggling to rise to his feet, and then began running after the escaped slave. He kept a stern grip on his scrollcase, for fear of losing it along the way, but otherwise kept his arms fluid and bounding back and forth in order to pick up momentum. Gotta hurry... the longer we keep up the entertainment, the more chance there is of the Stryfe investigating. Knowing that the woman was probably far faster than he was, the lawyer tried to exploit what shortcuts he knew in order to keep pace with her, dodging around crowds and cutting through alleyways. His heart was pounding away in his chest and his blood was pumping loudly through his ears, but a big, stupid grin filled his features and made his every step dance with enjoyment. This is what my life should be more like! He thought, already planning on how he was going to subdue this running woman.

It was painfully obvious that he had no chance of physically overpowering her, or even of managing to catch her with his bare hands. He had rely on more subtle devices to get the job done. No matter how dumb this girl might be, she can't be stupid enough to think that she can run away forever from the Stryfe. She has to know that they'll find her eventually in this city... I'm betting that, even now, those thoughts are worming their way into her mind. Deciding to speed along the process, Luc - with great difficulty thanks to his breathtaking pace - reached deep inside himself and embraced the wild, untempered Djed he found there. Calling this energy up instinctively, embracing the dark, empowering satisfaction it gave him, the lawyer took a moment to summon his wits before he used Hypnotism against the girl. Just have to get close enough for her to hear... Using the last of his strength to get within striking distance of the woman, he suddenly stopped in the middle of the street and called out to her, struggling to keep a level and flat tone with the harshness of his breathing. "Stop!" He exclaimed, trying to make his voice low, purposeful, and impossible to ignore with the power of Hypnotism. Playing on the girl's emotions, he tried to insert a feeling of helplessness in her, as if it were impossible to keep this chase going on forever. "You need to stop, if you want to be safe from the Stryfe. I can help you, you just have to trust me. So stop... turn around... come closer to me. Let's talk before your soldier friend joins us, alright?"

[Yoona]

"Yoona, what the hell?! What do you think you're doing!?!

Ruki's voice was shrill in her head, rattling her brain down to its stem as she sped along, her energy-filled legs propelling her forward. Yoona stole a glance over her shoulder, looking just in time to catch the hyena fading into being behind her as he fought to catch up. It seemed to be taking a lot out of him, too; his jaws glinted in the dim-lighting of the sun, and his tongue lolled out of his open mouth as he ran. And yet he managed to fall in step beside her, easing his strides into ones that matched hers.

The Chaktawe woman scowled, abruptly turning down an alley that had come up between a couple of shops. Her guardian followed suit, avoiding a collision with a startled bystander in the process.

'I'm leaving! What does it look like I'm doing?'

"It looks you're about to get yourself killed! You punched him...in the face!! He's a Stryfe, for petch's sake!"

'He was touching me!'

"YOU PUNCHED HIM IN THE FACE!"

Yoona made a breathless 'tch' sound as she continued, slowing down for a moment to vault over a wooden fence before she regained her speed. And it sounded as though she was losing the vengeful Stryfe soldier; he'd fallen behind a great deal, by now, finding enough extra energy to waste on some colorful swears that were being thrown her way. The Chaktawe woman was in no position to smirk, but a she allowed herself a sliver of triumph.

That was when Ruki spoke up, again, no longer yelling. He sounded concerned, now. "Oh great. Here comes another one..."

At first, Yoona took his words to mean that another Stryfe was headed her way. She risked turning her head to look, only to see some random man appear behind her, a briefcase clutched in one hand. And just who was he? Some random citizen, hoping to earn himself some money and the Stryfe's favor by helping to capture a runaway slave? Good Gods, this was the incident with that heartless bowman all over again! Yoona almost found herself waiting for a shifter-slave to appear at his side, its eyes brimming with unrestrained blood-lust and violence.

The next thing she knew, he'd started to shout at her. 'This petching city...all of its people are insane. Does he actually think that I'll listen...?'

Well, he sure as hell sounded confident. He could "help" her, he said...feh. What a load of shyke. People weren't kind unless they wanted something in return from her, and Yoona was in no mood to fulfill any favors. His argument wasn't very convincing, either.

Only, it was. And her mind seemed to settle with that fact before she'd fully realized it. Before long, Yoona had slowed to a stop, though it was obvious that she wasn't too thrilled about it, nor did she get where the sudden urge had come from. Ruki slowed himself, as well, tilting his head at her in confusion. What was she stopping for?

It took a few ticks for the Chaktawe woman to make herself turn around. When she did, she began trudging back towards where the man was standing, beads of sweat glistening along her forehead and the base of her collarbone. The subtle commands that had been underneath the man's tone didn't do much to rid her of her frustration, and the emotion was evident on her face once she had neared him. She stopped a few feet away, her chest heaving a little. "Trust you...why do you care? This no your business; it's mine. And I make myself safe."

"Tawna" | "Common" | 'Thoughts' | Ruki

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

Petching finally, Luc thought, as he watched the racing woman finally grow affected by his magic. For a few, critical moments, he believed that he had failed to stop her and that she was a sure goner, lost forever to the Stryfe. The thought made him oddly sad. Good thing that she had managed to turn around at this precise tick, because he knew that if they had engaged in this race for just half a chime more, he would have been wasted. Even now, the ground was spinning underneath him, making him place a hand on his forehead for balance. Easy there, Luc, get your bearings. She's stopping for you now, and you can't use your little talent more than what you've already exercised. Time to use your natural charm, big boy. Swallowing down the bile that was rising in his throat - gods, he needed to get in better shape - the lawyer offered the approaching woman a charming smile as she came nearer, brushing his sweaty hair back and doing his best to look presentable.

While the slave walked towards him, Luc used this time to try and analyze her appearance as quickly as possible. The first thing that caught him off guard were her eyes, for they were surely inhuman. Instead of actual colour greeting him in that gaze, there was just a yawning blackness that he was almost startled by. Get a hold of yourself, idiot... you're losing your chance to save her with every tick you spend gawking at her appearance. Taking a deep breath and clutching firmly at the handle to his scrollcase, Luc tried to ignore the oddities of her figre, and her strange lack of shoes, to focus more on her expression. Just look at that face. Of course this woman escaped from her master. She'd escape and defy anyone that bored her, or tried to cage her, no matter if it was a Stryfe soldier or Rhysol himself. Already I'm losing favour with her because I'm a foreign man that's trying to corral her into my care. I'll have to be careful with this one.

"Trust you...why do you care? This no your business; it's mine. And I make myself safe." The desert woman spit at him, immediately getting this conversation off to a great start. Smiling reassuringly all the while, Luc dropped his scrollcase on the ground and raised both hands into the air. "Of course you do!" He began, inflecting his voice with an earnest, cherry uplift. "Big strong woman like yourself, you don't need any help to survive. You'd have beat that Stryfe soldier into the ground and crushed him under your boot, if you had the opportunity, and I don't doubt that you could have pulled it off. And then after that, it'd be child's play to find someplace to hide in Ravok. There's so many warrens in this city that the Stryfe don't inspect, that you could have chosen anyone of them to secrete yourself. From there, all you'd have to do is grab a weapon, keep to yourself, and stowaway on a boat headed out of this city. Easy plan, right?"

"Well, it wouldn't work out." Luc shrugged affably, glancing in either direction and making sure the alleyway was cleared of eavesdroppers. Then he took a step closer to the woman, still keeping his hands thrown into the air. "I don't know if you've heard this, but there's a giant fish in the lake that the Stryfe are getting all worried about. Sooner or later, they'll cut down on shorebound traffic and start impounding boats. That means that you won't be getting out of this city until the fish situation is resolved. And you know what?" He stepped even closer now, his voice dropping lower and lower. His eyes, less dark than hers, glittered with light as they stared into her angry gaze. "You'll be able to hide for a time. You can get all clever about it, if you want, set yourself up a little spot that you're sure that the Stryfe won't check. You'll do everything you can to escape the Black Sun's notice, and it'll be a good effort. But it won't be enough. Sooner or later, black-robed figures will barge into your hiding spot, drag you into the streets by your hair, and torture you publicly for this little act of rebellion. They're gonna find you because they have Rhysol on their side, and he is the only god that matters here. Plus, you're big, you're foreign, and you don't do a good job at looking innocent. If you run right now, you're only going to make the soldiers angrier."

"That's where I come in." He placed a hand on his chest now, and nodded to her. At this rate, they only had a chime or so before that Stryfe soldier stumbled upon them. He had to convince her in that time to trust him, and he had to do it quickly. "My name is Lucillus, but you can me Luc. I'm a lawyer in this city. Lawyer, means that I work with the laws and get people to obey them, and settle disputes if they arise. I'm good at calming people down." Wondering if she was making sense of anything that he was saying, Luc shook his head and continued to speak. "I saw what you did in that street. I like you. I like people that don't give in. Besides, I've... " The temptation to say, I've got some sympathy for slaves, was almost too great to resist, but he buried the compulsion anyway. "I've got a strong desire to prevent public murders and torturing when I can. It's not my kind of fun." Plus, with the type of body you've got, I'm betting you can do some favours for me. "Here's the deal: you stick around with me and don't run away, and I'll see if I can't calm down your master. This is the best offer you're ever going to get in Ravok, trust me. I advise you take it."

[Yoona]

Well well well. Here was something new.

The height difference between them was what caught Yoona's initial attention; she was keeping her distance, but even from a few feet away it was easy for her to see that she had the man beat by a handful of inches. Had the Chaktawe woman not been familiar with such a thing, she might have smirked, but she tended to be taller than most of the people she came across. And towering over others was one of the more simple methods for maintaining power. It was an especially important attribute to her; life in the merciless deserts of Eyktol seemed to prove time and time again that she had been molded into a force to be reckoned with, built to be soul that mere chains couldn't weaken.

The next thing that caught her eye was the man's face. His expression, to be exact. He was smiling at her, of all things, with enough forced charm to genuinely bother her. Nothing about the situation that they...she...was in merited smiling. What, was he playing innocent? What kind of facade was the man managing, here?

But then, as Yoona stood with her arms hanging limply at her sides, a narrowed gaze set on the man, something happened. Something new and unheard of. He began to speak, but he wasn't reprimanding her or snapping at her for being a foolish, reckless airhead. He wasn't preaching to her about the so-called glories of Rhysol, and how everyone, even slaves, had a place in the societal rung that made up the city's foundations. He was...he was...

...agreeing with her.

And not just agreeing, but fully believing in her abilities. Yoona couldn't keep her genuine surprise at bay as it spread over her face, widening her pitch-black eyes and slightly parting her lips. Yes...yes, it was an easy plan. Yes, Issac was no match for her. She could rid herself of this accursed city within a few days...all she needed was some time to herself, supplies, a boat...

Then the man shrugged, and went on to say that her escape attempts and further plans were pointless. Acting on impulse, Yoona was quick to open her mouth to snap at him, but forced herself to fight the words down as she listened to what else he had to say.

The fish-beast...she'd heard sailors and other Ravokians swapping tales about the creature on her frequent excursions to the Docks. It was rumored to be vicious, and a threat to all who dared to enter the lake. She hadn't given the fish much thought when it came to leaving the city, however, but she supposed that it made sense that travel to and from the city would be affected by its presence. If not damn-near impossible, it'd be hard for her to smuggle herself out. And the consequences of the actions that she'd taken today...she supposed that the Stryfe wouldn't be all too happy about a rebellious slave in the midst of their great town. She'd be dealt with, and if Yoona had learned anything from her devoted soldier-master, it was that the Ebonstryfe dealt with problems efficiently and without much fuss. ...Unless you counted the torture. The mere idea made the Chaktawe woman frown.

This Lucillius, this lawyer, was offering to help her. Yoona found it hard to believe that he was doing it simply because he "liked" her; she also assumed that he was lying about that.

"Here's the deal: you stick around with me and don't run away, and I'll see if I can't calm down your master. This is the best offer you're ever going to get in Ravok, trust me. I advise you take it."

It was, admittedly, a really good offer. The Chaktawe woman settled for glaring at him as she thought his words over, her chin lifted a bit. Then she looked around a little. Ruki was nowhere to be found. Surprise surprise.

'I only have my instinct to work off of here, it seems...oh well.' she mused, still frowning. Cautious as she was, what he'd said had held a good amount of validity, and he seemed to be honest, if not a bit showy. After some ticks of silent thought, Yoona gave him a nod. "Fine," she muttered, still glaring at him. "You have fun with that, Luc. The Stryfe is in bad mood, right now."

She went silent for a moment before casually adding "I hit him. ...I had no choice."

The sounds of running footsteps could be heard not too far away. Issac was coming closer, but it seemed that he wasn't alone, this time...

"How you going to calm him?"

"Tawna" | "Common" | 'Thoughts' | Ruki

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

"Fine," the desert woman said, spurring a surge of relief that coursed through Luc's veins. He did his best to resist cracking a grin at her acceptance of his offer, though a little mirth managed to shine through regardless. Thank the gods she said yes, cause otherwise I didn't really have a second plan. Delighting in his ability to get this slave, a fireball that had enough grit to test the Stryfe itself, on his side made him absurdly happy. He didn't even mind the fact that he had just commit himself to a game that he didn't know how to play, nor that he had signed himself off to a hopeless cause against an impossible enemy. In fact, the idea that it was useless bargaining with the Stryfe excited Luc, made every nerve of his light up in excitement and his fingers flex in anticipation. Bring the bastards on, let's see if her master really is as dumb as he looks, to have let his slave get the better of him out in the open. Even the news that the woman had apparently struck her master, which could have done who knows how much damage, did not deter him from taking her side, even if it did make his job that much more difficult.

In truth, Luc relished this sort of entertainment. He had been led around on a leash for far too long - told to walk here and keep his head held high, go here and do good work for the family, now return here and settle matters with a person he'd rather see drowned at the bottom of the lake - that the thrill of doing something entirely unexpected sent shivers through his body. Good gods, this shyke is better than drugs, he remarked, feeling that unprecedented tingle of adrenaline make his body hair stand on edge. Fail to make my case against the Stryfe, and they might just decide to take up arms against me, throw me into a prison, rob me of my citizenship and make me no stronger than this hotheaded slave. The name, Nitrozian, is only going to get me so hard against the iron hand that guides Ravok. Scratching idly at his cheek, the lawyer listened to the slave's question, "How you going to calm him?" and lazily shrugged. "Not sure yet," he answered, holding onto his scrollcase tighter and tighter. "Thought I'd improvise. Whatever happens, you go along with it, alright? I'm going to say a few strange things, and you might end up mistrusting me. But I've done you no harm yet, so... remember that, alright? And if it looks like it's all going south - " he looked to her, and, strangely enough, an actual genuine, sad look came upon him. It surprised even the lawyer, emerging from frankly nowhere and puzzling him to no end. "Just run, okay? I mean, what's the point of me saving you if you just get killed anyway?"

The petch am I talking about? Am I getting soft on this girl or something? She doesn't give one shyke about whether or not I care about her safety. Why do I? Shrugging the strange moment of kindness off, Luc brushed up his sleeves and prepared for the Stryfe soldiers to arrive. Then, almost as an after thought, the lawyer suddenly took a step back. "Oh," he exclaimed, absentmindedly dropping his scrollcase to the ground. Reaching into his surcoat, Luc drew forth his long, flashing knife and nodded to the slave. "Don't worry," he murmured as he approached, training his eyes on hers and keeping the weapon low in his grasp. "It just won't look convincing if I managed to catch... you," he said, gesturing to her obvious size and weight advantage, "without some kind of help. I assure you, you can probably disarm me if you felt that you had to. But if you want me to get out of here... Hold still." Listening to the sound of armored footsteps come closer and closer, the Nitrozian hurried the rest of the distance between him and the slave. Planting one hand on the back of her head, Luc showed no mercy in forcing her to bend down so that he could place his knife a few inches away from her throat. Now all I have to do is avoid shaking... and make sure I don't get surprised by anything... and make sure I don't slip.

He managed to achieve this position just in time to watch the Stryfe soldiers emerge out of a nearby alleyway. "Oh good!" He cried out, trying to make it look as if he was grappling with the slave. "I was waiting for you to arrive, good masters! I was just keeping her busy until your arrival." Releasing his grasp on the tanned woman, Luc stepped back, slipped the knife back into his coat, and grinned over to the soldiers. More than what I was hoping for, but less than I was dreading. Looking at the Stryfe's faces, the lawyer pinpointed the one he had seen bumbling about drunkenly in the street, and moved to speak with him, stepping between the soldiers and the slave. "This is your property, I'm guessing? I feel sorry for you, my friend, I really do. She wasn't properly broken in when you bought her... these bitches always get wild if you don't get them trained soon." He reached out with his bare hand, and offered the master a handshake. "My name is Lucillus Nitrozian, of the House Nitrozian. It's a honor to meet a noble soldier of the Ebon, even in these strained circumstances. I've always had the utmost respect for your order." Every word's a lie, but I hope that this bastard is tickled by flattery.

Turning back on his heel now, Luc sized the slave up and gave a dissatisfied shake of his head. "Just look at her. Look at the hate in those black eyes. You can't trust a slave that dares give you a look like that. She's going to keep staring at you with that hateful gaze until the day she dies. You boys would best off executing her soon and saving yourselves the trouble of an uprising later... although, that would be a damned waste." The lawyer stepped closer to the woman, letting out a low whistle. "You can make her an impressive bodyguard, with the right training. And those tits are just too big to waste!" He gave the slave girl a wink then, hopefully out of view of the Stryfe. It would be a great shame if I put all this effort into saving her ass just to have her murder me later. "Tell you what, boys," Luc then said, spinning back around to face them. "Instead of making this affair long and drawn-out, why don't I take the slave off your hands for a few days? I can take her to the Nitrozian estate - we know how to deal with rebellions. Surely, one of you has to have heard about the efficiency of the Nitrozian property, how friendly they are to both our business partners and our family members? I can promise you that with this bitch."

He looked back to the master, and stared him straight in the eye. He's the one I'm going to need to convince. "Just imagine how much more pleasant this scullion'll be after she receives some proper noble treatment. Let me do this favor for you, noble master, as a reward for the good service you've done this city. In a few days, you can come and pick her back up." Luc knew that the man would probably suspect him of some ulterior motives, knew that the master most likely thought he was going to attempt playing around with his property... so what? So long as it concealed Luc's true intentions, let the man think what he will.

[Yoona]

Arms still crossed against her chest, a few fingers tapping at the cloth strips woven around her arms, Yoona gave him a mildly questioning look. Mistrust was her go-to feeling and, as one who had traveled through plenty of cities and observed various ways of life, the Chaktawe woman found that she could be safer that way. Trust, genuine trust, was something to be earned, not freely given out. Though her mind seemed to have become comfortable with the help that Luc was offering her, there was still a part of Yoona that warned her to be wary around the man. He was a stranger, after all; a Ravokian stranger. Yoona couldn't go as far as to say that all citizens of the city weren't to be trusted, but the ones that she'd run into up until this point were less than favorable individuals whom she wouldn't let her guard down around.

The tiers of society were strong, and she was unlucky enough to be placed on the second-to-last one. How could she willfully trust the denizens of a place that just barely saw her as being human?

The odd, saddened look that crossed the lawyer's face confused Yoona. 'Does he pity me?' She mused, blinking at him. As soon as it had come, however, it was gone, and the Chaktawe woman watched as he went digging into his pocket. When he withdrew the dagger, she instinctively tensed, her arms moving a bit as if she was preparing to poise herself for a fight. Sure, it'd be fists against a blade, but she was more than willing to suffer through a few scratches if it meant teaching a lying bastard a lesson. When he explained himself, however, she let herself calm a little. That was, until the lawyer was holding the knife to her throat. Yoona tensed, again, and summoned as much will as she could to force herself to keep still. 'It's all a part of the act. Things need to look convincing, that's all. He wouldn't dare to try something foolish...I could probably twist around and snap his neck, if need be. It would be easy.'

Just then, she could feel the tingling sensation in her fingertips. Issac was nearby, as well as whatever horde of men he had dredged up. In a few ticks, they'd probably be surrounded... Frowning a little, the Chaktawe woman sent a final, I-hope-you-know-what-you're-doing look to Luc.

Issac was the first to stumble out of the alleyway, wheezing and fuming all at once, his face dampened with sweat. He doubled over a little bit, pausing to take a few deep breaths before he straightened back up. More Stryfe soldiers came up behind him, all probably as exhausted as he felt but able to hide it much better than he could. Yoona glanced over at them, void-like eyes flicking from face to face before they settled upon her master's. He returned the look, his strained features gradually contorting with anger. "You..." the man snarled, practically gritting his teeth. The other soldiers fanned out a little and simply stood by, exchanging glances between Yoona and the lawyer. Since this was a issue between a master and his slave, they wouldn't act or intervene unless they were told to. For the moment, they were serving as guards, on the off-chance that the slave woman grew violent and managed to overwhelm the other two men.

As Luc made his way through the cluster of soldiers, Issac stared at him and narrowed his eyes. The Stryfe soldier looked as if he was in no mood to listen to a person ramble, but he accepted the man's outstretched hand with a half-hearted shake after a few hesitant ticks. "Her previous owners clearly were incompetent weaklings," he grumbled in response. "And yet, I've had no such luck, either. Issac Crowell. I suppose I should thank you for keeping my belongings in one place."

At "belongings," the soldier gave the Chaktawe woman a vehement glare. She merely glared back at him.

Luc continued to talk, weaving his web of lies, and both Yoona and Issac, along with the rest of the Stryfe, paid close attention to his words. Issac glared at her, again, only this time there was an invasive hardness to his eyes. He was observing her, watching her expression and searching her bottomless black pits for that hatred that the lawyer was describing, that hatred that he'd become oh-so-familiar with over the last few days. It'd been mounting over time, building itself up and festering inside of her until it'd released itself in a single, swift burst. He had the bruise to prove it. Deep down, the man wasn't sure what he thought he'd be getting himself into once he'd bought the woman in the first place. She had been a trouble-making soul from the start, and it showed even before he'd put her under his roof. As hard as it was to admit to himself, Issac felt that he had underestimated the woman. Greatly. And not only was he dealing with the consequences; now, he was facing ridicule and judgement from his own peers as a result of her actions. Even the soldiers whom he'd convinced to come along with him on this chase were giving him looks. They didn't think he noticed, either, but he did. To them, he was the man who couldn't control his slave, the man who had been bested and tricked by a non-human woman. For gods' sakes, she could barely speak Common!

Issac mulled over these thoughts. And as Luc continued to speak, Yoona continued to stare at him, her gaze practically searing into the back of the lawyer's skull. He came over to her, looking her over and letting a whistle slip through his teeth, and the Chaktawe woman had to use every fiber of her being not to lunge at him right then and there. 'Petching roach...! If this doesn't work, I'm shoving that vile tongue back down his throat before I run.'

The Stryfe didn't seem bothered by the comments. Issac himself nodded a few times, as if agreeing with the man's words. Then they listened the the lawyer's proposal and, while Yoona was questioning just how good of a negotiation it was to have her sent to his damned house, the men left her master to think it over.

Issac let his eyes wander as he thought, giving the Chaktawe woman yet another look. Then he met the lawyer's eyes, again, and looked as though he wasn't too convinced. A hand absentmindedly drifted up to his bruised cheek, prodding at the mark with a finger and wincing at the pain that ensued, and when he looked back over at Yoona, she was smirking at him. Smirking. The wise-ass, rebellious...she just didn't know her place. And the way that things seemed to be going, maybe she wouldn't. She was hardy, stubborn...

Perhaps he needed to enlist in some outside help.

"And you're sure that you can get the job done?" Issac ventured, raising an eyebrow. "I won't lie to you, it sounds like an arduous task to undertake, but...if you could do it, I'd be grateful."

"You don't need us to reprimand her, then?" One of the Stryfe soldiers asked.

Issac shook his head a little. "No, no...this sounds like a better idea. Why throw away such a potentially useful slave?" Then, turning back to the lawyer, he asked "Exactly how long do you think it would take? I trust the methods you'll use, but four days is as much as I'll allow."

"Tawna" | "Common" | 'Thoughts' | Ruki

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

Throughout the entire conversation, Luc could barely breathe.

Oh gods, Rhysol give me strength, Rhysol give me strength! He kept praying fervently to himself, his heart stuck in his throat as he waited for the Stryfe soldier - Issac - to finish pondering his offer. His fingers, he realized after a time, were shaking and rattling the handle of his scrollcase. The blood in his veins had alternatively chilled over, heated up, and burst into a flurry of sparks, making his head feel feverish and weak. This was, by far, one of the riskiest things he had ever done, and he had once spent a full two days shoveling completely unknown toxins into his system hoping for a high. Back then, he had been in danger of doing considerable harm to himself, which, at least, he had a chance of moderating. He could find the means to prevent his own demise, if he really wanted to avoid dying. But this situation was different. He was going up against the Ebonstrye, who tolerated little dissent and punished what few rebels they received with zeal. What he was doing was not so heinous, for he doubted that the Stryfe would really care all that much about the fate of one troublesome slave, but the fact that he was openly lying and manipulating the soldiers without a second thought was what really made his body shake. So many things can go wrong... the stupid girl can have another outburst and ruin my chances of securing her safety, the Stryfe can dismiss my claims and my name and take her anyway, and punish me for assuming power in their affairs...

So when Issac finally relented and said, "I won't lie to you, it sounds like an arduous task to undertake, but...if you could do it, I'd be grateful.", Luc experienced a high that was so, so much better than any drug he had ever taken before in his life. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made his entire body sing with ecstasy, and he could not resist the infectious smile that came bubbling forth from his core and overwhelmed his face. "Aha, excellent!" He crowed, reaching forward and clapping Issac on the shoulder. "A good choice on your part, my friend! I have to admit, I've been waiting for years to practice my slavebreaking skills on one as rebellious as this. The fodder that I've been getting at the Estate has always been far too bland and servile for my tastes!" The lies were flowing freely from him now, for the dam had been cracked and his entire soul was just screaming out in pure delight. The Stryfe soldier asked how long the process would take, and Luc responded with a fervent shake of the head. "Usually I'd guarantee that the task would be finished within a day or so, but with this one... Rhysol's balls, it'll be hard enough to get her scared of even the whip! Sadly, I'll have to take you up on your offer of four days, because otherwise I'm not going to make any traction with her. But you won't be regretting this, I promise you that! She'll come back to you as gentle as a lamb."

The lawyer noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that the other soldiers were moving towards the slave with cords of hemp withdrawn from their belts, evidently intending to restrain her. The Nitrozian pushed himself in front of them, waving their concerns away. "Please gentlemen, relax! Perhaps the reason she's grown so impudent is because of her distaste towards bonds. If she were to learn that walking freely and obediently would reward her in the long run, then I might make progress with her faster than I thought!" He knew that his suggestion sounded foolish to the Ebonstryfe, but he cared not for their confused looks. "Trust me on this, understand? If I am found murdered in the streets later tonight, then you will already know who the murderer is. But I don't think she'll get that far - one look at my knife, and she stopped running. She's not that stupid, to ignore the compulsion of steel." Waving goodbye to the Stryfe soldiers, Luc approached the slave girl and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "Come to the estate in four days, and I'll have her nicely trained for you. Farewell, my friends!" He cheerily exclaimed, heading briskly down a nearby alleyway that lay in the direction of the Noble District. He gestured for the slave girl to follow him, shooting her a look that said, Come along if you want to get out of this intact.

His pace was quick and never calmed for a single moment, and Luc, surprisingly, did not opt for conversation as he led the duo deeper into the warrens of Ravok. At first their direction was set towards the Noble District, but the lawyer eventually turned away from that path and head instead towards a darker, more obscure part of the city that fit neatly between the Merchant's Quarter and the Noble District. Finally stopping in a quiet alleyway that seemed devoid of features, trapped as it was between two warehouses, Luc suddenly exploded with activity. "Stupid petching bastards!" He hissed under his breath, grinning from ear to ear. "Did you see your master's face? He was so desperate to let somebody else take care of his problem that he just threw you at the first person who asked! What an idiot!" The Nitrozian kept his voice down, but otherwise was absolutely frenetic with activity; throwing his scrollcase to the ground, Luc stripped off his surcoat and unbuttoned the top of his fancy white shirt. "Holy flaming eye, I could go for a whore right now. Or a hit." At first, Luc meant a hit from his drug of choice, but as soon as the word left his mouth, a very different meaning came to mind. I have to keep this adrenaline going... have to, at any costs.

Turning to the slave girl with feral intent, he walked closer to her, one, two steps, before stopping just an arm's length away. He then stooped down and bared his open face to her, gesturing to his cheeks with both hands. "Punch me. Sock me right in the face, I dare you." The request was bizarre even for him to pronounce, but he stared at her with an intent expression nonetheless. "You're probably pretty frustrated right now, correct? Fought your master, thought you were going to die, separated from your desert and sent to this petching city of all places. Well, vent everything you've got on me. Knock me bloody, I'm begging you."

[Yoona]

Issac's agreement to the lawyer's heavily fabricated claims shocked pretty much everyone. Everyone except for the Stryfe soldier himself, that was. The man looked as though he was on his last nerves and had grown desperate, what little patience and tolerance he'd harbored over the last few days for his unruly slave finally gone from his system. The lawyer had offered him a respite and, no matter how random and oddly generous it was, he had no choice but to accept it. It was either that or hand the Chaktawe over to his fellow soldiers, after which she'd most certainly be put to labor, thrown in the Pit, or killed if they couldn't think of anything else. All that potential, severed with the edge of a sharpened blade...it'd be a terrible loss.

Yoona stared at the man, her eyes widened. That was it, then? He'd simply hand her over to a stranger he'd never met before who had promised to "break her in?" It wasn't like she expected the Stryfe soldier to be concerned for her well-being, but damn, it didn't even look like he'd tried to haggle.

What was even more surprising—and a bit unnerving—was the lawyer's reaction to everything. He looked absolutely ecstatic, a giddy smile breaking out over his face. Staring at him, Yoona's seemed to squint a little. 'What the hell is he so happy about...? One slip-up and we would have both had our throats slit.'

With a few final goodbyes and hearty claps on the back, the lawyer sent the subtly-confused Stryfe soldiers off. The Chaktawe woman watched them go, unable to tear her eyes away from the men as they disappeared down the alleyway, as if she expected them to suddenly turn around and hurl themselves at Luc with cuffs. So caught up in her wariness was she that the lawyer's departure didn't capture her attention for a few ticks. Then she looked off to the side and noticed him gesturing for her to follow.

Yoona made a point of keeping a certain distance between herself and the shorter rushing man as they walked, sending him occasional glances when she wasn't looking around at the various shops and pubs that they passed by. It was a journey spent in silence and, for the time being, she had no desire to break that spell. In the end, it turned out to be the lawyer himself.

"He was so desperate to let somebody else take care of his problem that he just threw you at the first person who asked! What an idiot!"

"We both lucky the man is so stupid," the Chaktawe woman remarked, the faintest trace of a smirk touching her lips. "If he think about it more, he throw you...in Stryfe...jail..."

Yoona's words faded mid-sentence, all of a sudden, the slight smirk vanishing right along with them. Luc had suddenly turned to her and was coming closer, a wild look in his eyes that immediately put her on edge. Like a switch flicking, she could feel the muscles within her limbs tense and prepare her for self-defense, mind sifting through the most effective moves that she could use, the most vulnerable places that she could aim for on his flesh. Once he was incapacitated, she'd make a break for it and head for the docks...

...and then he stopped in front of her.

Yoona stared down at him, actually waiting for him to make the first, foolish move. But he spoke, instead, making a request that utterly stumped her.

This man...wanted her to strike him...? He was asking for pain...?

The Chaktawe woman stared at him, looking as though she'd seen a ghost, before her expression morphed into one of simultaneous anger and disgust. Before the last, awkward word had left his lips, Yoona struck out full-force with her foot and kicked him in the crotch.

It was an instinctive reaction.

"You have problems," Yoona said, her voice low as she watched him start to double-over. "And I won't be in them. Now, all those things you say back there to my soldier. Lies, yes? But what is real plan? You no idiot; you no get too close to me, or touch, or say stupid things, because I can hurt you. A lot. And it won't be problem. So, explain."

"Tawna" | "Common" | 'Thoughts' | Ruki

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

Lucillus Nitrozian

A tick before the woman's foot connected with his crotch, Luc's only thought was: where does this bitch get off? I save her, take her out of her master's hands for a few days, give her the opportunity to use me as a punching bag, and this is the thanks I get?! Ungrateful savage!

Then the blow came, and Luc slipped into oblivion.

Hissing out a strained curse, the lawyer curled into himself at the hit and dropped onto his knees, slamming his thighs together as a reflex. His eyes closed and his teeth bit down harshly onto his bottom lip, the unbelievable pain that radiated from his legs too impossibly overwhelming to ignore. An earthquake had swept through his body and robbed him of his strength to stand, leaving Luc to keep breathing out angry comments as he slipped closer and closer towards the filthy ground. I asked for a blow to the face! At least I could tolerate that kind of attack! Through the pounding in his ears, the man could hear the slave talk to him as he fell to the ground, her voice angry and set into a low, determined tone. "You no idiot; you no get too close to me, or touch, or say stupid things, because I can hurt you. A lot." Evidently, Luc thought, staring up at her from the ground, his eyes dropping their pleasant glint for a more terse glare.

The really sad thing about this was, he had been hoping that the woman's strike would do something to rejuvenate his fading adrenaline high. Even the hit to the crotch, as underhanded as it had been, would have been tolerable had it made his spirit once more sing with energy, with that precious life that he so desperately chased after. But as he lay on the alley street, crippled from the waist down and softly sucking in gasps of air, Luc felt only a strong feeling of disappointment. The excitement had left him. It was replaced with a hollow, pathetic note that only made his outlook sour and his frustrated fingers clench together. It's all the bitch's fault, he decided, ripping his gaze from her form and instead looking up at the cool afternoon sky. If she had just done as I asked and given me a fight, I would still be having the time of my life. Dejected, the lawer pushed himself to his feet and stood, wobbling, in front of the slave, resisting the urge to just collapse back down and save his groin some trouble.

"You," he began, his murmur low and intent, "have a real funny way of showing gratitude. I step in from out of nowhere and save your life, prevent you from getting sent to the Hole or the racks or whatever other hell Issac had planned for you." Shaking his head, Luc leaned against the nearby wall, partly because he lacked the strength to stand and partly because he felt that this woman was getting intimidated by him standing. I so much as blink in her direction and she thinks I'm bringing the lash down upon her back. What has she been through, to make her so paranoid? ... Actually, I'm willing to bet that she's never gotten the lash. Otherwise, she would think twice before striking back at her masters. "The least you could do is treat me civilly. Most people in Ravok think slaves are like wild animals, that lunge and hiss at others whenever they get the chance. Maybe you could start proving them wrong, for a change." His words weren't blunted by a need to charm her; he was pissed off, and let that angry note dwell in his every syllable.

Shaking his head, Luc folded his arms and considered the question the slave had posed earlier. As much as he wanted to prove her wrong, the woman was right: he had no idea about what to do now with her, since his planning had begun and ended with seeing her safely away from the Stryfe. The easiest option for now is to cut her loose and wash my hands of the affair. Issac would hardly blame me for losing control of her, and even if he did, there's nothing he could do to punish me. But as he thought more about the idea of letting this slave go, letting her slip into the warrens of Ravok and never be seen again, he grew distasteful. I stepped in to save her because she was interesting, not because I was doing her a kindness. What's the point of letting her go then, if this is all the fun I'm going to get out of her? The ghost of Issac's words flashed through his mind then: "I won't lie to you, it sounds like an arduous task to undertake, but...if you could do it, I'd be grateful."

Arduous, huh?

Taking a low breath, Luc turned to face the slave, and gave her a tired smile. "The plan is for you to follow me around for the next few days. If you took to the streets by yourself, either Issac would eventually catch word that you were being left alone to run around town, or another enterprising slaver would come and snatch you up. If you stay with me, you can keep your head down and lie low for awhile... and if it's too inconvenient for you to follow me around, you can stay at the Estate instead. There's all sorts of comforts there that I can make available to you." He kept his distance from her, figuring that she'd get suspicious if he came closer. Reaching deep inside for another pull from his primal essence - figuring that he could handle another few moment's use of his magic - Luc funnelled the power of Hypnotism through his voice and eyes, reducing the speed of his words to that monotonous drawl and turning up the intensity of his dark gaze. "You owe me, alright?" He said, hoping to radiate an aura of trustworthiness from him. She already has to figure that I'm more helpful than most in Ravok... but she doesn't think that I'm doing it for simple, kindhearted reasons. At any moment, she's expecting me to request something horrible from her. Instead of attacking that belief with his magic, Luc tried to reinforce it, to make her so believe so completely in the "one favour for another" mentality that she was powerless to resist him. "I saved your life. All I'm asking for is your cooperation."