look down.

Making his way across the scene of drunk occupants he does not for a moment let the former concept of destruction leave his thoughts. Passing the counter his blazing gaze levels onto the barkeep for a brief moment and he wonders what level of chaos it would be, to raise his twisted gun, and take that lone figure's life. Sul had suggested that this one was useful but he still felt ravaged by the idea of being seen, revealed. For another time, perhaps, if he remembers by the time he and Sul are finished.

Pushing open the door and stepping within the smaller confines of the room it doesn't take more than a second for him to ensure that they are not met with an interruption. Frigid Stasis crawls up the length of his fingers from tip to palm before he places a precarious touch to the surface of the door, its entire surface rapidly encased with the sharp glittering crystals and keeping it wholly unmovable.

All the while his eyes have fallen onto Sul, like a rapturous judgement being cast upon her form from a malevolent god. Time is not wasted in a single drop. Yor steps to her and his hands do not wait, do not ask for permission, before he is leaning forward and pulling Sul into his grasp. His strong hands feeling down the length of her back and grasping at the plump flesh of her backside.

When the door swung back open, Sul did not immediately turn to meet his gaze, but instead glanced in the mirror that hung on the far wall. She watched as the door was pushed shut by a strong hand without so much as a thought of consideration. Bright eyes observed as ice stretched over its surface to lock it closed, just as his eyes were locked on her. 

She turned then, the breath leaving her lungs as it had every time they did this dance. 

Her hands found his shoulders as he swept inwards, drawing south to grasp at the front of his shirt to pull him in until her lower back met with the sink’s edge.

“I didn’t ask for softness.” She all but breathed, fingers searching for the hem of his shirt. Her hands craved the feeling of his flesh beneath them; to feel the heat of his body and the thrum of his pulse in a way she wanted from no one else. She knew the unspoken methods of gathering intel, how to capitalize on another’s weakness when they were clouded by lust and desire. Sul knew between which ribs to slide a thin little dagger, at which angle to cut cleanly through tendons, and exactly how much pressure she needed to apply. She could have lured anyone into a dirty bathroom of a rundown bar for a similar rendezvous, but she wanted not what they had to offer. Not intel, not the completion of a contract. What she wanted from Dredgen Yor wasn’t business, but rather something she was almost fearful of putting a name to. 

Ringed fingers skirted up from his navel to the plane of his chest, his shirt lifting as they moved. She suggested in the silence of her voice but the volume of her actions that he dislodge his hands from her body–all for but a moment, so that she may have further access to his own. 

Even a darkness such as himself didn't want to die alone.

Yor settles his attention on a door, just across the room. Not very classy to take the two of them into the restroom of the bar. However, his patience as remarkable as it could be, was stretched thin. Ever since he'd sat down in the place his mind had been wound around Sul to every possible degree and it is nothing short of surprising that he hasn't already drifted into far less than decent actions where any could observe them.

The only reason he's yet to move, is because she has him trapped there, and it is not a thing he would ever complain about.

He makes a nod towards the locale he'd been observing before his bright hues drop back onto her. Yor raises a hand to her's where it has found his features, pulling it away though only so he may press a kiss into the delicate flesh of her wrist.

"I want to devour you whole, Sul, and I fear that need has no will to be delayed," he murmurs against the beating of her heart in the threads of her forearm. "For the sake of those here, anything that becomes of us, is none of their business."

Her head swiveled back as her hand was displaced and the pressure of his lips snapped her eyes to him. Sul’s body responded in harmony, and she all but breathed his name in a would-be prayer. Beneath her skin a fire burned; despite her perceived indifference, and how she masked her wants and desires with the necessity of business, she ached for him. She too, did not wish to die alone, and the ever-looming threat of the approaching end urged her to act where she would have otherwise remained in the shadows.

When his gaze settled back upon her, it felt like a weight sat upon her chest. The air in her lungs had left her, leaving a reaching feeling of want and need to breathe him in. The muscles in her thighs tensed as she moved in tandem to his desirable, albeit intrusive touch; her hooded gaze leveling with his own as the din of the bar became a muted hum beneath the importance of his words.

The hand upon his thigh slid up over his hip, her fingers certain to brush over him as she anchored her body with the grip on his waistband and drew herself inward. The movement coaxed additional pressure by his situated hand, provoking a gentle gasp from between her lips.

“I want you, all of you, without interruption.” She breathed against the shell of his ear before releasing him, fingers ghosting against his lower abdomen before pulling away.

Favours were Sul's currency. She bought and traded favours like coin and stashed others' debt away like savings. Information was valuable, and a single service could provide a wealth of knowledge.

Sul eyed the other with curiosity, her thumb dragging over the edge of the blade softly enough that it didn't pierce her flesh, but firmly enough to feel it catch against her thumbprint.

"Alright, I'll bite." Sul intoned as her hips swayed to lean against the table, and the gripped the knife's tip and allowed the handle to fall, effectively rotating her grip, and she angled her head beneath the heavy hood to level her eye with her distant cousin.

"If you knew the truth, you'd run the other way."

"Why do you keep fighting a battle you've already lost?"

"This isn't just a game to me, you know."

"I've seen what you're capable of, why do you hold back?"

"Do you ever get tired of wearing that mask all the time?"

"Isn't it exhausting, keeping up all these lies?"

"You think you know what's best, but you're just as lost as I am."

"How can you speak of justice when your hands are so dirty?"

"I dare you to tell me something true for once."

“Now, now,” she said softly, attempting to soothe whatever wrinkles she had unintentionally wrought in the fabric of their encounter. “Surely we’ve no need for hostility; I have no wish to face you and your….crossbow.”

It was only then that her raised fingers spread, and a light crackle filled the air as violet sparks of electricity danced between each number. Her expression kept its gentile, but there was a hard watchfulness to her eyes that spoke to her experience. Only a warning, but a warning all the same.

Sul shifted her grip on her firearm, casting a glance down at the weapon with a mirthful chuckle. "Crossbow, hm? You must be newly resuscitated." But her humour settled into something more venomous, and the grin behind her dark helmet fell into a hard line.

"Let me show you the difference—by putting a bullet in you, like your kind did to him." She moved to stand, then tapped her index finger against the barrel of the gun.

"Aren't you curious." She all but hummed as she settled her hands upon her hips. Her head tilted as her unseen eyes roved over the woman's form, then to the strange-looking mirror at her back.

Fingers calloused from centuries of battle move to settle on her leg draped over one of his own, just behind the knee, Yor careening his head just a bit more so that the cowl shifts and he can have a better view of Sul's features. She was a great warmth within the cavern of his chest, that which kept a dark heart beating and agonizing over the oncoming destruction of existence itself. If he were to ever have a reason in joining the fight against the Witness, it would be for her.

"Play nice," Yor repeats as if she has uttered something ridiculous. "We both know how I get. Better off leaving this place if you want that." A low chuckle ebbs out of the back of his throat, the sound nearly menacing had the context been anything else.

His attention drifts away from her briefly, back to the bartender again, thoughts rolling over several vile happenings that could unfold between the two of them. He rather enjoys his privacy and having anyone intrude was inviting brutal chaos, but for her, the Dredgen will behave. Allowing his hand to drift across the length of Sul's thigh and tread into fairly inappropriate territory, he speaks again, though hasn't looked back at her yet.

Once, he had been her last resort. A man who she thought, despite the infamy and terror, was her only option. All but rejected by the Dreaming City, whose prince she served with unwavering devotion, and vilified by the rest of humanity, she had nothing. Sul was willing to trade anything at that point; her life included. But what she had found in him instead was beyond her expectations, and she would do anything to stay by his side.

“Then let’s leave,” she responded mirthfully, her fingers giving his thigh a gentle squeeze, “as I value my assets–which are by extension yours as well.” She watched as his gaze shifted from her, and observed where they settled. She knew what played behind them, urging and whispering how easy it would have been. But she trusted him, more than she had anyone else, and she knew by whatever means that he’d return to her.

As he moved to occupy her space, both with hand and body, an aching sigh escaped her. She had to strain to hear his words, but the heat of his breath alone was enough to set her skin ablaze. With a dip of her head and a sudden thud of her heart beneath her ribs, a low hum reverberated within her throat as she lifted a ringed hand to settle against his jaw.

“Give me direction or tell me to leave.” She breathed in response, her thumb dragging over his bottom lip. His words lingered on her skin like lipstick on a glass, and she felt her chest flutter from his close proximity. The only thing that kept her held together was his averted gaze, and she knew that she would undoubtedly come undone the moment his eyes found hers again.

The scrap of paper was unfurled between her fingers, revealing the message that was so-archaically delivered, but its contents caused not only a eyebrow to quirk over one of her dark eyes, but surprise to flicker within them as well. Her gaze shifted as she leaned against the railing, her body backlit in the darkness by the light of the small apartment’s interior as she watched pedestrians wander the City’s streets. 

It didn’t take her long to take to the streets, dipping down alleyways with soundless agility. She moved through the light of the moon into a busy bar, her eyes locking with the bartender from entrance, who had thereafter flickered their gaze to a patron who sat in a booth at the back of the tavern. Sul gave her informant a subtle, acknowledged nod, and meandered through throngs of drunken patrons to the bartop where she plucked two drinks that were quickly made–a duplicate of whatever he currently held, and the other a whiskey sour–and she moved with practiced ease through the bodies, din of music and murmur of conversation. 

The glasses clinked together as she neared, the thick glass bottoms thudding against the lacquered table as she slid into the booth beside him. She turned her luminescent gaze towards him, pushing a drink before him and removing what little remained in his glass by setting it at the edge of the table in a single, fluid motion. 

“My, what a sight for sore eyes.” She all but cooed as she leaned back into the booth’s thinning padding. “Let me buy you a drink.” And she lifted her own to her lips.

Yor ponders briefly if any of them would even care, if they knew better. There were certainly far worse things to worry about now than a single faded infamy lazing around and waiting for all of existence to end. How many were out beyond their solar system, who now had to unknowingly rely on the champions of humanity so that they could continue living? It's a hilarious consideration and he has little faith.

Breathing a huff of laughter though his nose, Yor shakes his head at his own mindfulness of the situation they've all been placed into. Idly, he's been tracing the grain of the table and not entirely paying attention to his surroundings. Why should he? The biggest threat in the room there's not a single reason for Dredgen Yor to consider that anyone might be there for ill intentions where he was concerned, and even if they were, he wasn't a soft target. Which is exactly why an expression of mild surprise crosses over him when someone joins the booth.

His is far from an inviting figure. Though he had shed his armor for the time being, safely aboard a ship tucked away in the forests just beyond the walls, Yor wasn't about to give anyone the idea that he wanted company. A hooded cowl has been draped over his head and covers his upper body, an olive green and frayed at the edges. Cargo pants and a makeshift holster on his thigh keeps Thorn in its place, for now nearly out of view and away from the populous of the bar.

And, for all his terror, he cannot help but offer Sul a smile. Few might ever see the ferocious hunter of hunters ever display any manner of humanity beneath the rugged exterior of a man wanted dead, and she certainly was his sole exception.

"You say that as if I would not come running to your aid, were you to only give any indication of its requirement, even if it was only for us to be in proximity of one another again." And in that he betrays himself, still just a man, despite every willful intention to make it not so. "Have you been watching me, or did the asshole up front run their mouth?"

“Oh, how you tempt me.” She all but purred, “I would get nothing done with you in close proximity,” she chided in jest as she traced her hand up his thigh, her nails lightly grazing over his cargo pants until nearly reaching his hip. “You know that I have eyes everywhere. I try to keep one on you, just in case you might need something.” She offers him a pretty, albeit impish grin, “anything at all.”

She pivoted her body to face him entirely, her knee folding into the booth and across his own as she devoted her attention to him entirely. Sul was always hyper alert; her attention everywhere, her eyes noting everything. However within his presence, she was able to relax her defences because she knew nothing would penetrate his. 

“They work for me,” she relented into her drink before setting it aside again, “and I like to know if you intend to pay me a little unexpected visit in my home away from home. Play nice.” She settled in, wholly contented with his company like a cat lounging in a warm patch of sunlight.