That's gonna hurt in the morning (Daeva, Seth)

[Daeva Timandre]

The azenth flared beneath her wrist, deciphering the agitation that exuded from her partner, who was now plastered against her as if separation would kill them, and it probably would lead to their demise. Daeva just rolled her eyes and smirked, “That’s not going to stop them from driving a sword in your gut, Sul.” She retorted, but once again the creeper drew all of their attention. His smile sent a shiver down her spine. Well look at that, we ran into an insane bastard. Daeva said, pressing herself against the Akalak when the white-haired stranger deemed it appropriate to lick his lips at her. Disgusting. This just means fighting is out of the question, Citlali replied, This man is probably in no way on our side, and these men just want us for money. It’s wise to continue our charade of vulnerability, then maybe they won’t keep us as heavily guarded. Daeva could feel Citlali scrutinizing the men, determining their weaponry and their stature. But where her sister-soul would rather remain idle, the darker twin wanted to fight, yet she couldn’t deny that a battle would most likely end in their deaths. “Funny, I didn’t know dead men were very popular on the market,” Daeva commented, “Don’t keep your undergarments in a bunch we’ve no intention to fight you.” The akontak raised her hands up and nudged Sulavik with an elbow, gesturing him to do the same. “As long as creeper here keeps his tongue to himself, there shouldn’t be any trouble.”

[Sulavik]

Sulavik didn't like this; this waiting to see what happened. There was far too much ... talking for him to be entirely comfortable. Part of the reason he got on so well with Makil was that they shared that impatience, that dislike of talk and love of pure action. Fighting was preferable. Tensions rose with each word, Sulavik's eyes flashing between the three humans, the white haired man and Daeva. His grip tightened on Daeva as they spoke, deliberating on their fates. Sulavik stayed alert, though Makil's mind and focus wandered. Not that I'm really complaining, but why are you holding Dae like that? Sulavik could almost hear the self-satisfied smirk in Makil's voice. A warmth was spreading from Sulavik's chest to limbs now that he truly noticed just how every part was pressed against Dae. It's Dae now, huh? Sulavik asked, sarcastically, his eyes still flicking between the two threats. What, does itty bitty Makil have a crush on the girl now? Maybe, but I'm not the one gripping the girl by her love handles. If Sulavik had been in any other situation, his hands would have flown off and settled into a crossed position over his chest. As it was, he merely gripped Dae tighter with flushing cheeks. A flush which only increased as Dae responded to his proposition, but then pulled back against him. Despite the warmth of her body against his, it did serve as a reminder of the situation. Sulavik felt a wave of anger towards the white snake man as he insinuated against Dae. An odd level of protection was broiling within his chest, protection of Dae and himself. He momentarily swore to himself that they would get out of this and into Ravok alive, and though Makil was certainly amused by his nobility, the sentiment was echoed by the second soul. Sulavik sighed as Dae spoke her words, stepping away from him with her arms in the air. Although what Makil really wanted to do was fight (and Sulavik was certainly in the same frame of mind), he would follow Dae in whatever she chose to do. It seemed that she was smarter, anyway. Reluctantly, slowly, Sulavik pulled his Lakan from his belt and laid it on the ground. As he stepped away from it, he felt a pang of seperation and if he was honest, fear. His two arms raised into the air in a sign of surrender, though he hated it the entire time. "Dae, you suck," he murmured, though he flashed a weak smile in her direction. "Makil's depressed he missed out on a chance to fight." He sent a wink in her direction, though his eyes were still flickering between the unpredictable lone man and the trio of slavers.

[Seth]

The leader of the slavers glanced toward Daeva, a moment of curiousity displayed across his features. "You didn't? You have a lot to learn of the world, woman. There is a big market for dead people. Freshly killed people. Body parts are in high demand, if you know the right person who is willing to pay for them. Shall I perhaps show you? A brain is worth a ton. We simply tie you up, hold you until we get to the buyer, then crack open your skull in front of him. He even has hired a doctor to get the brain out as cleanly as possible. To this particular man, your brain is worth more than your live body. A bit demented, really." A single glance was given to Sulavik, and an approving nod as he set down his weapon. Not that he was any less dangerous, seeing as he was a hulking blue monster... but the lack of any real defense against their cold steel was comforting. The trio of men tightened their circle, their swords still aimed for a finishing thrust at any time. They seemed a little more comfortable now, especially since Sulavik and Daeva had submited themselves without a fight. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after- "I'm bored." It was the snake again, demanding attention. A cross between a pout and a frown had been plastered on his face, as it was obvious that he liked having the focus on him. Apparently the five seconds that Daeva had drawn eyes away from him had annoyed him. Or perhaps he was just tired with whatever game he had been playing. Whatever the case, all eyes once again turned to him. He had what he wanted. What else was it he wanted, though? This all couldn't be the summary of whatever private play he was conducting. One of the slavers spoke, a slight tinge of anger to his voice. "What?" The white-haired man snickered, raising an eyebrow. "This is all so cliche. The slavers, the random travellers, the skirmish in the middle of the woods... heck, even me, the mysterious stranger... even I am cliche! And that won't do. Not at all. You have to be a little more exciting, from now on!" The man giggled, and finally, one of the slavers snapped. "Enough. You'll sell as dead." With an almost lazy flick of the sword he already had pointed at the white-haired man, he stabbed. The smile snaked wider, once again returning to that un-natural stretch. A black swirling abyss opened in the middle of the air, starting as a pinprick, but expanding to a three inch diameter before anyone could think. It caught the sword as it thrusted forward, the portal having appeared directly in front of the snake's throat. The man let out a startled yelp and tried to pull back, but he had already dedicated himself too much. The black hole in the middle of the air warped even wider, and everyone around would realize what was happening. It was tugging at them all. It was sucking them in. For a brief second, the other two slavers were distracted. Their companion was screaming, being yanked into the widening black hole as if invisible arms had latched onto him. He was soon to vanish. They leapt for him, each outstretching a hand, having enough chivalry to attempt to save their friend.