Closed [Kelp Bar] Partners in Dysfunction

[Noven]

There it was. That faint flicker of doubt, the ghost of a grin still frozen on her face as she digested his words. The lass possessed nerve, Nov was willing to admit, sticking around for as long as she had. Usually, when he told people to scram, they scrammed. Especially once they knew what he was capable of. There were exceptions, of course...ones he'd rather not think about. Ones who had died, or disappeared, or remained behind for reasons as immovable as the mountains and oceans that separated them.

In short, it did not bode well for blondie to become an exception.

But it was her choice. And from the look in her eye as her thoughts danced behind the veil of obscurity, Noven reasoned it safe to assume he was not going to like that choice.

When she finally spoke, however, he stared at her in bewilderment, surprise paired with a healthy dose of suspicion. The man had been called many things in his life, but lucky had never been one of them. No one in their right mind envied him for his curse. For all the pain he was forced to endure, and to inflict upon others. Not to mention having the attention of a mad, sadistic goddess who could kill you more hideously than anything imagination might provide wasn't exactly peachy either. In fact, it was the kind of situation that tended to fuel nightmares. Lots of them. With no reprieve in sight.

Yet, he couldn't deny that the blond said was true. He did have certainty in his life. Perhaps not that kind that brought security or comfort in knowing tomorrow wasn't likely going to end in his grisly, bloody death, but he had direction, purpose. A reason to live.

No, Noven corrected himself. Three reasons to live. He had vengeance to fulfill, a past to piece together, and K--

His thoughts dissipated like smoke when the blond got up to her feet. The way she was looking at him was eerily blank. A vast expanse of clear, cold blue that held nothing. Not even the barest hint of emotion as she lifted her shirt to expose the smooth flesh of her stomach. It drove the man before her to the very limits of his discomfort, finding her first choice in body part to maim strike a deep, unnameable chord of sadness in him. He'd seen so many abominable things in his life. Beggars eating one another in the snow, pitiless drunkards petching half-dead whores who had been used up and thrown out, children used as playthings for slavers. But one of the most disturbing he could still remember vividly...the blood soaked image of a desperate young mother, cutting the unborn babe from her belly, slicing through her own flesh with a blade more rust than dagger...

There was a shred of relief when the blond turned sideways, baring her back instead. Though it was short-lived, as the words that followed turned his sorrow into revulsion.

"I don't make it a habit to beat people who save my life," he said through clenched teeth. "And I don't enjoy hurting the ones I fuck, either."

Keene's face flashed through his mind as he said this, the memory of that first time he'd Vexed his lover in the Nuit spa bringing a fresh wave of nostalgia and pain. He stood there in indecision for a moment, hands inching towards his Tamo's as he considered the consequences of using this girl. Would it dissuade her from offering herself again in the future? Or would it only bring her back for more? He'd never had a consistent victim. The very idea itself was mad, unfathomable.

"If I do..." Noven responded after a handful of silent ticks, reluctant in his decision but out of options all the same, "...satisfy myself, that is, then I'll owe you one. This is business, and my word is good."

He stepped closer to her then, the pain in his limbs and the guilt that weighed upon his conscience almost more than he could bear. But he'd been cornered--quite literally, too--into a dead end, and the only way out required knocking through walls into the unknown.

The Sunberthian moved quietly and quickly, taking off his left glove and unsheathing one of his Tamo's once more. He tugged down the girl's shirt to cover her midriff again and took one of her slender arms in his hand. The blade balanced precariously over her nubile skin. He almost asked for her name then, but thought better of it. Best he didn't know, and for her not to know his either. Nov still wasn't entirely sure he could trust this broken creature.

With the gentlest of cuts, he sliced her skin about two inches wide, across the back of her forearm. There was a brief look of apology in his gaze as he wiped and sheathed the dagger before placing his left hand over the fresh wound. It would have stung, though tolerably so.

And then Noven flared his mark, the rush of relief immediate as his features relaxed for the first time in days. It was as addictive as it was sweet, both the feeling of pain receding and the knowledge that he would be spared another day. As for the lass...well, Nov had had alcohol poured onto a stomach wound before. He knew the way it burned, the agony that seemed like it would eat through his very bones and come out in flames through his back. He imagined what she suffered at this moment would be similar. The sensation of fire and enough pain to render most grown men breathless.

[Felicity]

She did not know what exactly she expected his reaction to be, or if she even expected one at all. Up until now she had not thought about much of anything, or questioned or pondered. Doing so somehow felt pointless. Like a waste of precious ticks that could not be spared. Yet imagine that. Someone who neither cares nor worries, suddenly taking notice of a few ticks used for seemingly useless thought.

Felicity looked away as he approached, relinquishing herself to whatever it is he wanted to do. "I do not understand why you limit yourself. I do not see anything wrong with fucking a woman you beat." Wrong? As if she really understood what that was, and the irony of the statement was only increased by the nonchalant tone of her voice. It revealed how she really did not think at all about what she was saying. When was it exactly that this doll forgot the difference between a truth and a lie? Both seemed to slip out in equal amounts, to the point that Felicity no longer knew herself which was which.

As the clothing was snatched from her grip she let her hand fall limply to her side, quickly taken up again by the warm grip of this man who bore her some kind of intent. Intent to kill? To grope, or comfort? Not that there was really any difference. All that changed between a benevolent and malevolent embrace was the intensity, and sometimes even that confused her as to which signified which.

The sound of the blade coming free once more, and the firm yet loose grip upon her arm made Felicity look up once more. To search for the eyes of the person who was about to do such things to her flesh, and see if she could understand what he felt as he did it. It was a futile thing, and after a brief tick she gave up and looked away again. Even if she could meet his eyes she thought he would never hold her gaze, and so pointless was it to bother herself with the act. In the end she would never really understand what she saw anyway. How childish of her. What she did notice, however, was that the hand that held her burned hot, but if it was simply him or her the answer was not clear. Before the blade even came close to skin there was a prickle along her shoulder and down her arm, a reaction in anticipation for what was to come as her heart beat quickened just slightly and the now slowed breathing began to come more heavily once more.

It was pure agony to wait for something to happen, the ticks lengthened to bells until finally Felicity could not stand it any longer and turned her head to look. The blade, beautiful in its potential hovered just a hair's breath away, and as eyes widened a breath sucked in as it came down upon her body and with clean ease parted skin and revealed the red life beneath. A little gasp, more a hiss as an unknowingly held breath was suddenly released as Felicity had braced herself for the pain that was to come. Too much so, for as sharp as the Tamo was she felt barely a thing at all. Yet still her heart beat faster as her brows knitted together in sudden confusion. Was that it? Her eyes questioned his just a breath before the hand clamped down over the wound. Then... Oh then she wished she still had that breath saved to hiss between her teeth. But then, if she had, maybe she would have bitten through her tongue with the suddenness of the sensation that now flooded her body.

A note of pure agony escaped her lungs with the last of her wind, and her voice was cut silent as lips spread in a noiseless scream of surprise and so, so much pain. It was like a thousand needles were cast into a fire, and then each slid beneath her skin all at once to burn upward and outward. Her muscles tensed and without meaning to she fell backwards into the man as her feet forgot their purpose while her mind was occupied with the sensation that consumed it. White hot, pouring outward up her shoulder as the muscles in her thin arm all twitched and spasmed and the fingers of that hand curled to claws without Felicity's commanding them to do so. The skin was burning, the muscles were melting. She knew it. Her arm would fall off at the point that this man touched, but she could neither move nor protest. The world went fuzzy at the edges then, her vision narrowing as she suddenly noticed her head had been thrown back and she could see his face just before her eyes fluttered and the irises disappeared into her skull. His expression, of pure satisfaction, of relief. Pleasure?

Had Felicity ever felt pain like this before? Actually, had she really felt pain at all? Compared to this? Perhaps not. A scrape or a cut here or there were what came to mind. She had never broken a bone, or been bloodied and beaten to the point of losing herself. Then she thought, how rare it was for her to actually see the blood that coursed in her veins. Without knowing it Felicity had been living a sheltered life, away from things like this. What else had she missed?

Then the thought passed through her mind. A thought she never expected she would have. A thought so alien that to her mind it did not even sound like her inner voice at all.

Please... make it stop.

It ended then, suddenly, and like a runner who came suddenly to a halt Felicity jerked back to herself. Breath, forgotten for so long sucked back into lungs that begged for it, big gasping breaths that shook her chest. Her right hand trembled as she gripped Noven's wrist with a white knuckle hold, around the very hand that had been on her arm. When had she grabbed him? She couldn't remember, but perhaps the only thing that kept her from slumping to the ground then was that very same grip. A grip that clung to life, to safety that Felicity did not even realize she craved.

A shudder wracked her frame as the breathing came in heavily still, yet no voice yet lent it self to Felicity as she still held on desperately, the arm that was affected by the pain still shook and remembered its torture. And in her chest...

Slowly, one finger at a time Felicity released her hold on the man, and if he said anything she did not notice. Instead she was consumed by the sensation of wetness upon her cheek, and those unsteady fingers explored over her damp cheeks as she realized she had been crying. Tears that started just after she was released from the pain. Tears of relief, and...

What was that? That feeling, like suddenly she was as light as air. Though her heart pounded in her chest and her body trembled she realized she was smiling. Smiling with tears in her eyes as the realization came that she was happy. So happy that the pain had ended. So relieved that she no longer hurt. Overjoyed it was over, and deep deep down... a darkness knotted behind her collar bone. A... a fear that he might put her through that again.

Her mouth worked as she continued to explore her cheeks, with two hands now. Slowly her heart was calming, and the sensations starting to die down and in its place the emptiness began to wave its arms about, reminding Felicity that still it was there. Then, again, there was a new feeling. A FEELING! What was it? It choked her and made her breathing and heart skip a beat as she looked up at the man. Eyes wide, smile fixed in place because she had no other expressions to use. What was it? what was she feeling that made her now suddenly lunge and grasp the hand that had caused her so much pain.

Panic.

"Again." she managed to gasp, pulling at his hand and running it over her own neck, her eyes desperate, pleading as the feeling increased, "Again! Do it again. Hurt me somewhere else. Make it hurt more, please."

She was afraid, Felicity realized. Afraid that she was about to lose these sensations. Not yet. She was not done experiencing them. She wanted that lightness again, and that fear again. Again. Just once more. Just once more.

[Noven]

He held on for as long as he dared. Too short and it might not count. Too long, and he'd have blondie's unconscious body to deal with.

For a handful of breathless, motionless ticks, the two could not have made more stark of a contrast. One was slight and fair, her face twisted in open-mouthed agony. The other broad, dark, and sinking in the kind of relief usually reserved for those dying of hunger or thirst. He could feel her nails digging into his forearm, her suffering evident in the way her head was thrown back and tears streamed down her face. Her death grip would no doubt leave marks, but the pain she inflicted upon him was nothing in comparison to what he'd been dealing with for the past three days.

She held onto him as if he were the only thing keeping her standing, and Noven allowed it. He saw the whole thing through, treating it like a silent vigil; it was the least he could do for a willing victim. With cautious calm he watched her, ignoring the pain of her nails. There was no way of telling how the girl would react once she recovered. Would she learn her lesson, unlikely as that seemed, and stay the hell away? Or would she betray him first chance she got to the highest bidder in town?

Such worries were troubling enough to kill some of his relief-induced buzz. Nov kept them both steady as the Vexation ended and air exploded back into the blond's lungs, searching her wan face for any indication of ill or selfish intent. For the first chime or two, she merely fought to get her breathing in control, hand still clamped in a vise around the man's arm. After a while she was able to release her grip, fingers traveling up to her face to touch the sheen of wetness upon her cheeks. Nov rubbed absently at the indents in his arm and wondered if there was hope yet. That perhaps she'd gotten her fill and had finally come to understand why he had urged her to leave from the very beginning. He didn't want any more trouble with her. And having to kill her in the event that she decided to sell him out was no more appealing to him than Vexing her in the first place.

But blondie proved to be far more disturbingly unpredictable than Noven had anticipated. Because now she was, of all things, smiling. Touching her cheeks with both hands as if she had experienced some kind of awe-inspiring revelation.

The former Scar did not like where he guessed this was going. Not in the slightest petching bit.

Again. She wanted him to Vex her again. Practically fell over herself in panicked desperation as she covered her neck with his hand. For a moment, he looked down at the girl, at the way his crimson veined, calloused fingers enveloped her slender neck so easily he could have snapped it in half like a twig. He could feel his mark pulsate against his skin at these ever darkening thoughts. Something buried not so deep inside of him--a desire to maim, to hurt--demanded it be let out. To be given into. And if he cared to listen closely enough, he might have even heard that vile, ghostly laughter of his goddess egging the desire on. Urging it to fight free and take control.

Noven ignored them both. Instead, he focused on the pitiful creature before him. There was fear in her eyes, naked and shameless, as she begged to feel it all over again. To endure more.

The Sunberthian knew, then, his victim for what she was. He suddenly understood why she pleaded, surrendered her dignity as easily as she was willing to break a mug she did not own, throw herself in the face of danger, or petch a complete stranger. The girl was an addict. A shell of a human jumping from one source of intensity to the next, seeking a new high whenever the old dwindled to mere shadows of its initial effects. Always in need of some external way to pierce the numbness inside. And the more she jumped, the higher that threshold before feeling something other than nothing rose. Which meant that if her first taste of pain only turned her onto it more, reducing her to this beggared state, then appeasing her would make Noven no better than a dealer.

But she was not easily dissuaded, that he knew well enough by now. The Vexer couldn't decide what to do. He wanted to jerk his hand away. To shout at her, shake her, leave her where she stood. Yet, some part of him also wanted to comply. To give in, squeeze his fingers around her neck, press her vulnerable form against the walls and take out all of his frustrations on someone too helpless and hopeless to fight back.

And an even smaller, less relied upon part of him wanted the impossible. The unthinkable. It wanted...to help her. To save her. He almost preferred to kill her right then and there to spare them both such hapless nonsense.

A shout from somewhere near the Kelp Bar jolted him from his morbid thoughts. Nov glanced over his shoulder in alarm, then back at blondie.

"We need to go," he hissed, withdrawing his hand and resisting the urge to shudder. He'd come far too close. If temptation had won, the two of them could have ended up facing the Wave Guard or, worse, a mob of angry, vengeful locals. Ones sporting machetes and the look of a true predator gleaming through their cold, dead eyes. "Can't stay here. Come on."

Nov tugged at the blond's arm to get her moving. He tried not to be rough with her, but tension was building up again and his head still hurt like hell. A quick check beyond the entrance to the alleyway later he was taking to the streets at a brisk pace, victim in tow. The man remained silent as they sped as inconspicuously as possible toward World's End. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do with this troublesome woman, but he figured it would be easier--and safer--to deliberate within the confines of his rented room.

Once they arrived, Noven went straight for his quarters, keeping his head low and blondie close until they reached the door. He unlocked it hastily and rushed her instead before relocking it behind them.

"You're out of your fucking mind, you know that?" he blurted, finally breaking his silence. He kept his voice low enough so as not to alert the other tenants, but the wrath in his tone was palpable, rasping through with fiery conviction. "Bad enough I vexed you once already. But now you want me to do it again. Do you even know what I am? What my kind are capable of?"

Nov glared at her with undisguised fury and disdain. He didn't trust her. Didn't think it was even a good idea to bring her here, since if she had any wits left about her at all she'd now know where he lived. But what else was he to do? He refused to simply Vex her again until who knew how many times it took before she finally passed out. And what would happen after that, he couldn't bear to begin imagining. He still felt he owed her, as he'd given his word, but this was not what he had in mind...and if he spent anymore of his time trying to reason with the evidently insane, he'd have none to spare for resetting another day.

Sodding hell. He could almost hear Krysus's laughter echoing through his pounding skull.

[Felicity]

It was powerful, such that no thought could even begin to form in her mind. She wanted it, she NEEDED it. Like a physical pain it made Felicity's hands tremble as she begged, pleaded like she had never done before. Just once more, just once more...

How odd that when at last Felicity was able to feel such a desire that it was for something that, perhaps, no other person would ever desire at all. Once more Felicity was a stark contrast with what she knew was supposed to be right. She could not even desire something proper, like others around her... But then it did not really matter. She wanted it. Wanted it with such ferocity that she knew, without even thinking about it, that she would do anything to obtain it once more. Then maybe Felicity was just like everyone else. At last she could connect with those around her on a new level. Like sheep they would follow one after another, chasing their desires without heed for where they were or who they might trod on. In that was Felicity felt that she might now be the same.

The shouting did not even register to her addled mind. The only thing that brought her out of her quickly sinking pit of desperation was the firm tug upon her arm, and with it a new sensation bubbled up. Disappointment. True disappointment, and something deeper that lined the inside of her chest and made her limbs feel heavy. This new feeling was like a pit had opened up within her, and with it came a heat and anger at being denied what she wanted. Then a thought occurred to Felicity, and suddenly she felt she could understand those men who grew frustrated and violent when denied the pleasures of the flesh. As she was pulled along and the heaviness subsided slightly with the moment, still Felicity felt that slight anger just before the coals cooled to mere embers. She was denied what she wanted, intentionally or not, and it infuriated her.

Too much, it was all too much for her as they ran, weaving and heading in a familiar direction through the city. Felicity's mind rolled over everything, thoughts caught in a never ending cycle as she reenacted the moments in her mind, remembering the pain that made her shutter and wish for an end to her suffering, and then the relief. A relief that was euphoric, that made the ground drop beneath her and for a few ticks Felicity felt as though she could fly with her new found weightlessness. Then, with these new feelings there was now, flickering deep in the darkness of her soul, a single burning point of light that had not been there previously. It was this that Felicity now examined curiously as they passed through the entrance into the World's End Grotto. Everything else had subsided as it always did. The high from the experience, the excitement of the moment, and even the anger and frustration of being denied. Yet still something flickered, something new and unexpected. It wasn't large, it wasn't pressing. Still she recognized it, with a shock that made her eyes widen slightly as they slipped into the room. There, in her cold heart, deep in the numbness of her soul, there where she expected nothing to remain from any of this... There was a new desire, a wish for something she had never had before. Felicity, for the first time in her life, wanted something.

The man's words barely registered to Felicity as she moved away slightly from him, hands running fingers through her disheveled hair, brushing it out slowly and letting it fall over one shoulder as she looked back at him with searching eyes. At last she felt something, something that did not disappear just a few chimes after it appeared, but it left her with a strange sense of uncertainty. What did one do when they suddenly had a desire? Did they immediately try to fulfill it? If so, then what should she do to fulfill her own...?

Biting her lip Felicity looked at Noven intently, trying to understand for a few ticks before looking away and examining the room instead. She didn't answer him right away, but instead thought of what she might say. What should she say? What could she do to convince him to give her what she wanted once more? What did he want?

He is a man, so he wants my body right? She wondered to herself, and even as she did she was already starting to lift her shirt, But he said he didn't... Then just as quickly as she preparing to disrobe she stopped, letting her fall back into place and setting her hands on her hips as she looked thoughtfully at Noven once more.

"I don't really care what you are capable of." Felicity said simply, in reply to him, and her expression was still the neutral blank as she examined him more closely. Then she would walk toward him, reaching a hand toward him and would touch his chest, and up to his neck if he allowed, "And I am not 'out of my fucking mind'. You should not be so harsh to a woman, or you might make her cry." She said this, but nothing in her tone spoke of welling tears.

If allowed she would pull as close to him as possible, before pulling back slightly as she seemed thoughtful once more. Somehow Felicity doubted he wanted to be so close to her, not yet...

"Vexed... Is that what it is called?" She asked softly, looking down at his hand, "Yes, I want it again. I want it more than I have ever wanted anything." At this she pressed a hand over her heart, brows furrowing in her first real expression, "It's strange, and I don't care. I want it. I will give you anything you want. My money, my body, anything."

Honesty was odd. Over the years Felicity had been many things. A thief, a whore, a lady, a beggar. What she had never been, though, was honest. It somehow made her feel naked despite her clothes, but as she was quickly learning she would do anything to have just a taste of that pain one more time.

[Noven]

He watched her like a stray dog would an alley cat, hungry enough to consider eating it but wary of claws and a temperament more feral than his. She was processing, deliberating--things she was clearly not used to doing on a regular basis. Nov wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign. How was one supposed to feel when the old shutter that always clattered in the night suddenly went quiet, or a wayward flurry of wind decided to mysteriously blow straight?

Suspicious, the fugitive answered himself. Definitely suspicious.

The silence grew momentarily tense when Blondie decided to begin lifting her shirt. As unstable of a mess as she had proved herself to be, it was still an issue of simple math. She was a pretty, young thing, even with her disturbing new penchant for pain, and he was a man who had gone without for a long, long time. When he wasn't hunting down his next victim, he was struggling to put quill to paper. Life was solely about getting from one day to the next for a Vexer forced into hiding. He had little to no time for indulging cravings of the flesh, no matter how strong those cravings sometimes became.

Much to his relief, she dropped the shirt and looked at him pointedly instead. Nov didn't care to test his resolve anymore than he had to in the course of one day. Bad enough he had let things come this far, with Blondie now in his quarters, having had her first taste. The saying 'it could be worse' could not have held more true.

When she finally spoke, Noven had to actively hold his tongue. He wanted to refute her careless statement. Tell her that the reason she didn't care was because she didn't know. But she was too damnably close now, her hand touching his chest and neck, and his compulsion to argue was quickly replaced by the desire to flinch away. She was still human, still warm to the touch, but something about her seemed disturbingly...hollow.

"It is," he replied after a tick's worth of hesitance. One by one, he closed his crimson veined fingers into a fist. "You are the Vexed, and I am the Vexer. Marked by Krysus, Goddess of Pain, Murder, and Death. I'd tell you to stay as far as you petching can from her and her murdering spawn, but I doubt it'd do you any good at this point."

Nov dropped his hand somewhere behind his back and stepped away. It was only an inch or so, but it allowed him to breathe just that much easier. The pleading look in the lass's eyes was almost too much to bear. He wanted nothing more than to leave her in that room. Shed himself of this terrible responsibility, of the vicious dependency they would no doubt share if he allowed this to continue. But as the Sunberthian had come to realize so many times that day, what choice did he actually have?

None, at this point. That was the reality of his situation.

He glanced at the door, shook his head, and turned to face the blond with an expression of grim reluctance.

"You said anything, girl. You'd best mean it." Noven folded his arms, his discomfort clear, but his determination clearer. "What I want from you is simple. You keep my secret. Tell no one, not a soul, or our deal ends and I kill you before you can even think about running."

A strange look crossed his face then. One that suggested what came next was more of an unexpected afterthought.

"And to make sure you keep this secret, we're going to need change a few things. Like getting you cleaned up, for one. No more doing...whatever it is that you do. Walking into taverns all by yourself, causing a scene. The last thing I need is for someone to figure out who I am because you decided to piss off the wrong kind of scum." He fished the other glove from his coat and tugged it back over his left hand. "Gotta eat more, too. Need all the strength you can get."

When Noven looked up at her once more, his arms were no longer crossed, though his expression remained guarded. "Also, the name's Noven. In case you were wondering."

A momentary pause, then, "So, still want to go through with this, Blondie?"

[Felicity]

Krysus. That was the name of the Goddess who gave him his purpose in life. While Noven spoke Felicity found herself musing over the uniqueness of that name. It sounded so much like Crisis if spoken just right, and what she brought to the world seemed very similar to a crisis. A Goddess of pain who heralds murderous followers with a craving to hurt and kill. Krysus was a Crisis indeed.

It was such a funny play of words that it actually made Felicity smile despite the morbid nature of the conversation. Oh, but she was supposed to be paying attention. So she turned the corners of her mouth down once more, banishing these thoughts for later contemplation when she could better enjoy the irony of it all. Still searching his face Felicity saw when his expression changed, a hardening somewhat, or was that an expression of acceptance. It puzzled the woman for a tick as she watched what she was sure was a myriad of thoughts pass behind his eyes before coming to some kind of decision.

When his offer came Felicity's answer came almost instantly, "Yes, I will do anything." The threat of death barely registered to her, but for some reason her mind paused over the rest. it seemed odd that he would require her to clean herself... and eat? Well, perhaps they did follow some sense, if Felicity took the time to really consider them. However her mind was already latching onto what she really wanted. She could think about the rest later, for now...

"I want it." She said, coming closer again and staring into his eyes. One hand would gently clutch at the folds of his tunic, the uninhibited eagerness and desire in her eyes open and clear to see. There was no second thoughts, or uncertainties. She wanted it.

It was just a moment then before Felicity remembered, he gave her his name. Blinking she would step back once more, giving him space that he apparently desired and clasped her hands behind her back.

"I wasn't wondering." She said simply. At the edges of her mind and deep in her chest Felicity felt a very subtle glow. This, then, must have been anticipation, and so thrilled by its sudden appearance Felicity laughed, or giggled, before biting her lip, "Can we do it now?"

Like with most things Felicity did not take time to think, but simply acted. Instant gratification, that was what she lived for. Those moments when for a time she was no longer steeped in darkness and dull boredom. It made her brash and brazen, unthinking and uncaring of herself or others. She wanted to do something she did it, no thoughts on the if's and maybe's. Just like now, just like always. She was getting what she wanted from him and so he could have asked her to cut off her own finger and she probably would have, such was the little regard she gave to anything but the want at that time.

She also forgot to give her name in return...

[Noven]

Nov narrowed his eyes at the girl, wondering if she was even absorbing anything he had just said. He couldn't help but feel he was talking to one of the runts back at Sunset five chimes before supper. Even the most potent of threats barely fazed a hungry orphan when food was on the cusp of her reality, eyes slightly glazed as all thoughts revolved around a single subject.

When she bluntly confessed she hadn't wondered at his name, the Sunberthian only shook his head. Not at her unsurprising amount of disregard for anything that wasn't the object of her obsession, but for his own folly. In spite of all the caution and doubt he'd tried to exercise, Nov had allowed himself to be cornered, left with no where else to retreat. He'd even given her his name, which he had deemed unsafe to do not half a bell ago. Was he losing his edge? Had a season spent away from the Berth turned him soft?

Grimacing, the mercenary turned fugitive faced his victim's eagerness with visible discomfort. He had a feeling he would never get used to how intensely blondie was willing to be Vexed. How desperate her need to feel pain grew. Nov had heard and seen all manner of addictions, but this...this was as new as it was disturbing. Few things made him truly afraid anymore, and he found himself dreading what their entwined futures held in store.

Anything. The girl had said anything. A dozen different possibilities flashed through Noven's head, some he had already considered, others more merciful, like putting a dagger to her throat and ending her misery before it became too dark a stain on his past to rub out. And still there were a few that sent chills straight down his spine. Life never failed to remind him how monstrous he could be in his basest desires, and in that he was no different than any other man. It wasn't just about fucking or maiming or killing. It was about having absolute power over another. That no matter how much shyke you had to wade through in a day, you could count on making someone suffer more than you. It was a concept he understood all too well, having been raised in the City of Chaos, even though the very idea made his fists clench in anger.

This time when blondie reached out to grasp him by the tunic, Nov was better prepared for it. He let her draw near, watched as her excitement and anticipation bubbled forth in the form of girlish laughter. If he ignored the ravenous glint in her eyes, he could almost see what the lass might have been like, had she been dealt a different hand at birth. If only for a moment.

He was just about to reach for her hand and wrap his crimson webbed fingers around her still scabbing wound when a terrible racket exploded. "Shit," Nov swore in way of explanation. "Dog."

The noise was coming from his broom sized closet, which had been latched shut before he left. Something was scratching the wooden doors frantically and whimpering; the latter sent guilt lancing through Noven's heart. In the midst of so much commotion and negotiation, he had forgotten entirely of his now undoubtedly famished Gibbat.

Lowering his hand, Nov peeled himself away from the blond and strode over to undo the latch. A blur of white and red promptly burst through to leap straight against Nov's legs, then onto the bed, then around the newcomer a few times before arriving back at its human's feet, plush, flame colored tail wagging furiously.

"Wick, sit." The pup just stared up at him, tongue lolling. Sighing, Noven bent to push a hand against the dog's bottom. Wick seemed to get the idea, but only for a few moments. Then it was straight back to much sniffing and tongue lolling and tail wagging. "Good enough. Here." Reaching into his back pocket, he took out some dried meat he'd saved from lunch and fed the Gibbat by hand. It was gone in a matter of ticks.

"One more secret for you to keep, blondie, if we're to go through with this," Nov informed as he turned back to face the girl, expression utterly serious. "I'm not sure if Wick is allowed here, or what those nosy University scholars might do if they saw him. So I keep him here. Anything happens to him, you know the cost."

Running an exhausted hand through his hair, Nov looked from the dog to the girl to the door. "I'll give you what you want, girl. But first thing's first. You have to recover from the first Vexation, get some strength back. You're no use to me weak or dead." He then wrinkled his nose. "And you need to stop making my room smell like a pack of strays."

Glancing back once as he reached the door, Noven added, "I'll go fetch a bath and some food. You two stay put. Be nice to each other and wait for me to get back."

Then he was out and taking the stairs two at a time. He could only hope at least one of them obeyed until he returned.

[Felicity]

This was it. At last, after what felt like an absolute eternity for Felicity she was finally about to get what she wanted. Never before had she known such satisfaction as it welled up inside of her, an assurance and a pat on her own back for how good she had performed, how well she had acted to obtain this ever so sweet reward. Now, after all of the effort and self restraint (at least that was how she saw it) it was finally going to happen. He had conceded despite whatever misgivings he seemed to have, and Felicity couldn't care less about the discomfort that shown in his eyes as he began to reach forward. So excited was she that she trembled slightly but she held herself still, still smiling, expectant, waiting. Waiting until...

The sound from the closet was so sudden and unexpected that Felicity jumped despite herself, staring in the direction of the noise but quickly losing interest as she looked back expectantly at Noven. Only, now his attention wasn't on her and those red veined hands of his that held such magic was no longer pressed to take hold of her wanting flesh.

A slight whimper of protest escaped her lips, but it was too late. The man was already to the closet and even if she reached toward him she knew he wouldn't look back. Something else had his attention now, and without even knowing what it was Felicity recognized that subtle smouldering in her chest. Setting her hands on her hips Felicity watched as the door was opened and the thing that escaped dashed out, making quite a show of itself as it captured the man's attention which rightfully belonged to her.

"A... dog?" She whispered, not quite sure if she believed what she was looking at was actually a dog at all. It was too odd, too alien to be what Felicity imagined a dog to be. It had four eyes. What kind of dog had four eyes?

Still staring Felicity took a couple of steps back until the backs of her legs hit the edge of the bed and she let herself fall with a thump there on the edge. Pulling her legs up off the floor she simply stared at the strange thing, tilting her head as she tried to understand exactly what it was she was looking at. Noven was saying something once more, he did like to talk Felicity noticed. Another secret she had to keep, something about the University, but she only looked up when he mentioned her smell. That made her pause for a tick and lift her arm to sniff, and to pull back her shirt and sniff the fabric there. Felicity didn't think she smelled that bad.

Then he was leaving, and surprised Felicity came to her feet once more and extended a hand as if to stop him, "Wha-, wait." but he was already gone and the door closed behind him.

Now she was left standing there , hand still partially outstretched with just the stupid mutt wagging its tail like the silly thing it was. Lowing her hand Felicity shot the creature a glare, "Look what you did."

Then she sighed, clenched and unclenched her fist before falling back on the bed, arms spread out and staring up at the ceiling. Wick found his way onto the bed as well, and proceeded to lick at Felicity's fingers. This made the woman turn to stare at the thing once more, and the smouldering feeling began to return. The more she stared, the more it grew.

"I hate you." she said allowed to the pup, but it did not seem to notice. It was still inspecting her hand, moving up her arm now. "I wish you would die."

With all of her might Felicity willed it, demanded this creature to suddenly stop breathing, to fall over and collapse never to move again. Yet, such things were not possible and after a while she sat up. Wick followed, trying to climb into her lap but Felicity quickly pulled up her knees to her chest and inched backwards away from the thing. Then she resolved herself to ignore it.

She didn't know when Noven would be back. Once again Felicity had only been half listening and so she could not remember what exactly he was going to get. However, he had mentioned something about her smell. Maybe that had something to do with it, and as the woman rested her chin on her knees she wondered at that. Could the way she smell really put off a man that much? It didn't seem to bother the typical ruffian or thug, but then again they often smelled so horrible Felicity just held her breath and let them get on with it. Maybe Noven was different.

Closing her eyes she called on her mark, a silent prayer to Ionu upon her lips as she decided to bring a new illusion into the world. In a breathless wave the scent of her unwashed and dirty body was completely eradicated, replaced instead by the scent of fresh berries and honeysuckle. Maybe if she smelled sweet as such Noven would have no further complaints.

Interested Wick's little nose twitched at the sudden change in the scents, snuffling closer to her feet in his investigation. Felicity watched him with a cold glare, and when the dumb thing looked up and wagged its tail with the goofy expression it had it felt as though something finally snapped within her. This thing had ruined it for her last time, and she did not want it to ruin it again. Shifting slight so that her knees rested sideways off the edge of the bed, Felicity cooed softly, placing a thin smile on her lips as she inched closer.

"Come here doggy... Come on." She whispered, smile broadening, "Here, let me pet you." She reached her hand forward, the burning coals in her heart burning behind her eyes as she reached forward. For whatever reason the stupid thing didn't come closer, and it didn't wag its tail. Sighing in frustration Felicity lunged forward, both hands grasping for its fir with eyes pinned to its neck, but missed as it jumped nimbly aside and darted to the corner of the room. There it stayed, just watching her, alert. Felicity though did not follow, but sighed once more and stretched out onto the bed.

"I don't think I like dogs."

[Noven]

"Aye, just the one," Nov confirmed with one of the staffers, "and the bath."

With an hesitant nod and polite smile, the young assistant went off to fetch what the patron had asked for. It was uncommon, having one of them ask for a bath and then insist they lug it to their rooms on their own, and more than a little curious. After all, what was there not to wonder about when a patron kept their privacy this tightly locked down?

There hadn't been any trouble from this particular lodger, but for a man with seemingly simple needs and a straightforward--albeit somewhat standoffish--demeanor, Mister "Nathan" was awfully insistent on doing everything himself. Whether it concerned baths or regular maintenance or something as innocuous as delivering a letter, he was determined to handle it all on his own. Which was strange given that such amenities were free of charge. It was almost as if he didn't wish for anyone to come into his room. Ever. Point in fact, he'd never been seen with company coming in or out of the inn, spoke to no one during his stay, and took all of his meals alone.

What he could be hiding, if he was hiding anything at all, was anyone's guess.

The man himself cared little what speculations his fellow lodgers harbored. So long as Noven held up his end, there was no reason for Serra to give him the boot. He paid his dues in a timely fashion and caused not so much as a peep of unrest. That, as far as he was concerned, was the only thing that mattered.

"Here it is, sir," the assistant greeted. He had returned with a dinner platter complete with bread, meat, cheese, and drink. Strictly speaking it wasn't quite supper time yet, but the patron claimed he was hungry enough at this bell, and who was the lad to argue? "As you've requested. The water for the bath is heating. Shall I help bring it up to your rooms for you?"

The man known as Nathan merely shook his head. "It's alright. I can do it myself. I'll be back down for the tub and water."

And with that Nov took the platter and left, taking to the stairs at a pace that could only be described as controlled haste. Behind him, the young assistant opened his mouth and then closed it several times before he turned back around to fetch one of the tubs. He would need help with it to be sure; it was usually a two person job. But Nathan always carried it up on his own and back down the same way once he was finished. Yet another peculiar habit from a peculiar patron, the assistant rationalized to himself as he asked another staffer to help him.

Meanwhile, Nov was back in front of his door, platter of food in one hand and keys in another. He unlocked the latch and pulled it slow, wary of what he might find inside. Much to his relief, both the blond and his dog were more or less in the same state he'd left them in, minus the fact that they were now occupying opposite sides of the room. That, and blondie was stretched out on his bed in languid disregard, expression acutely malignant. No wonder Wick was backed up against the wall like he was, all four eyes focused straight ahead.

"Food," was all the Sunberthian said. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what had happened between him leaving and five ticks ago. "Eat it."

He threw Wick a piece of meat and handed the rest to the vixen now lying on his bed. "Finish this before I'm done filling the tub."

Then he was gone a second time, locking the door behind him as soundly as he had the first. By the time he was back downstairs the staffers had already lugged out the tub and were bringing out two large kettles of hot water. Without a word, Nov bent to grab the tub on both ends and slowly, carefully began hauling it up the stairs. It was hard work, but nothing the former cook wasn't used to. He counted down the steps one at a time, always keeping the next one clearly in sight, until he was back at the top. From there it was a short trip to his door, where he set the tub down with a thud and went back for the kettles. Again, he assured the two assistants he could carry them himself. And again, he made steady progress back up the stairs, a kettle in each hand and thick rags around the handles to protect his skin. He set them inside of the tub and, slightly out of breath and perspiring mildly, unlocked the door once more.

"Stay back, it's hot," he announced. Though, not before checking no one was in sight as he pulled everything inside. There was an ugly scrape-scraping of metal against wood, but it was fleeting, as Nov made quick work positioning the tub in the middle of the room and locking shut his door in under ten ticks.

He stood still for a moment to catch his breath, chest heaving, before bending to fish the kettles out and start pouring their steamy contents into the tub. Once the last drop of water had been emptied and the room felt significantly warmer than it had before, Nov motioned at the young woman to get in. "Better have finished as much food as you could. Not gonna have the strength to eat after your second...round."

He went over and sat by the bed, facing away from the steaming tub. Not that he thought it would make much of a difference for blondie. It just felt like decent thing to do. For his own sake, if nothing else. "I'll...be here while you get cleaned up." Confusion passed over his face halfway through speaking, however, and he looked about the room. Reaching forward, Nov grabbed his pack and fished out a bar of soap. He sniffed it warily, then shook his head. Perhaps someone had spilled something fragrant and the scent had wafted in through the open window. Blinking, the fugitive suppressed as best he could the sudden rush of nostalgia. The smell reminded him, of all things, of berry cider back at Pig's Foot. Though he could never claim his life in the Berth was filled with happy memories, that life was the only one he'd known. And he had left it all behind.

Nov held up the bar of soap, intentionally avoiding looking blondie in the eye. "Better get in before the water goes cold."

After which he remained resolutely mute, staring holes into the opposing wall.