#day252020

Day 25 - Kiss @daily-writing-challenge​

While he didn’t mind that Pyraelia knew about Aerden being his son, those words should have come from Aerden’s mouth.  He was annoyed with Khaeris at the time for breaking that trust; drinking wasn’t an excuse, nor was Pyra’s prying or the fact that she didn’t like lying to her friend.  When someone entrusts you with keeping their secret, you hold onto that until they are ready for others to know.  He hated that a little piece of his trust in her had been splintered that day.

He hid his irritation well enough, soon enough it would be a thing of the past and wouldn’t matter anymore. They’ve weathered much worse. Compared to everything else happening, or about to happen in the world, it was a trivial matter and Pollux didn’t want to spend his final day with her being a complete grouch.  He didn’t know when he would see her again or what was going to happen in the coming months. So instead he shoved all that aside and enjoyed the small amount of time they had together.  He made sure she knew to keep alert and be careful, and to pack a bug-out bag ‘just in case’. Ominous, but needed.

She accompanied him to the portal, kissed him goodbye, and he stepped inside. It was only for a split second, but in that brief time passing through the portal he could have sworn he saw a face: those glowing eyes, the webbed ears… He didn’t need to see anymore to know who that was.  Just his mind playing tricks on him. He blinked and was back in that hellscape known as Icecrown, now with a brand new uneasy feeling settling into the pit of his stomach, on top of that other one that was already there. 

“Gear up, Hale. We’ve got something for ya.”

Not even a second to settle and already given orders, that seemed about right. “Yes, Sir.” He gave a salute and rushed towards his tent to ready himself. 

And so it begins...

Daily Writing Challenge Day 25 - Kiss

Adapted from RP with @vixannya​

“Why do you like hanging out with me?” Aerden gave a skeptical squint.  “You’re so….”

“Old?” Red-painted lips drew into a mischievous smile.

“No!” He laughed, a bit uneasily, feeling his cheeks turn a shade of red; hopefully the shade didn’t match her lips.  “No, no, more...mature I guess? Or just...suuuuuper different from me.”

Her expression turned more genuine as she dragged her fingers through his newly dyed hair.  Back to the normal color, for now.  “You’re an empath, so I’m sure you can relate to this in a way. You have a good aura about you, it’s bright...friendly.  Different from the majority around here, everyone is so jaded, including myself. It’s refreshing to be around.”  She chuckled dryly before spinning him around to face the mirror.  “All done.”

Aerden stood up and leaned in closer, looking over his ‘new-old’ hair.  The silver was fun and he may dye it again soon, but he had missed his regular color.  “Looks perfect, thanks Annya. And you don’t seem jaded, at least not around me.”

Leaning against the kitchen counter, she watched as he inspected himself.  “You bring the good out in those around you. That is your gift. You make others want to be a better version of themselves. That and you make others, and me, feel safe. I know you would never hurt me, not on purpose, and you would never pressure me into anything I didn’t want to already do. You don’t have ulterior motives for making friendships.  You make friends to have friends.”

“That’s...unusual?”

“In some circles, yes.”  She slinked up behind him, ghosting her fingertips over the top of his shoulders before sliding them down to his biceps.  “You’re a good man. And a very handsome one at that...”

He tensed a little at her touch, not because he didn’t enjoy it, but he was still bashful around her.  Most of his time lately had been spent with those around his own age, but Annya was older and way more experienced.  She was downright intimidating at times with her posh lifestyle and her love of all things macabre, but she also fascinated him with her mysterious disposition.  She was an enigma, and always had the most interesting things to talk about...AND she read comic books. 

The woman was a painter, much of her work hung in various galleries, museums, or in the more upscale businesses and estates.  She had an eye for the morbid; oftentimes her work involved death of some sort, but she also did regular portraits and boudoir art. She had even asked him to be her muse before, but certainly not for one of her macabre works or regular portraits. His face had never been so red.

At the handsome comment, he opened his mouth to object in some manner, but she interrupted as if she knew exactly what he was going to say.

“The baby face suits you well, trust me.  It’ll suit you even better as you grow older and your look matures. Give yourself more credit, and trust that many see you that way.”  She leaned over to press a kiss to the side of his head before retreating back to the kitchen.

“Thank you…” Reluctantly said, he still had a hard time believing it. He was still a work in progress, but he was improving daily. He stared at himself in the mirror for a while longer, feeling that swell of confidence from her words.  “Still need that muse?”

“Absolutely.” Both brows rose in anticipation, and surprise.

Day 25 - Threat

Thoughts had folded onto themselves, over and over again while the magi awaits for his expected company. From the moment their gazes passed over each other at the social event every briefly, Talthorn had a very strange sensation. An instant hesitation and mistrust stirred within him about the Nightborne entertainer: Beaureve. It was very odd for him to experience as he had nothing to base this feeling on other than a sort of instinct that he was a threat. He had attempted to dismiss it as quickly as it rose, embracing parts of this night more as he should! 

Later however, would only give him more reasons to listen to his initial instincts. After the incredible shared dance between beautiful partners, his eyes had found their way back on this man after his voice had travelled to his ears that sent sharp prickles up his neck when speaking to his friend, Jiro. Perhaps it was the way he spoke so smoothly and looked predatory inspiring that he felt he needed to interfere. 

Jiro certainly did not help matters, inviting this man to tell her more and become closer with whatever he offered. He thought Beaureve would give more space if he knew there was someone else right there to question what he was doing. Most people became very distracted with his questions. When she snatched the vial and drank it down, Talthorn was shocked and narrowed his gaze on this dealer of sorts. The entertainer's eyes danced with unspoken intentions and then his magic started to weave.

While the drug itself gave his friend pleasant and non harmful effects? It did not make this man any less dangerous in Talthorn's mind. There were bombarding questions of what this concoction really was, and what he aspired to use it for. Their dance with each other as he stood between Jiro and Beau, had sparks flare there. Even when the Nightborne was defiant and tried to walk around him, his hand shot out to stop and catch him right in the chest. As Beau's hand slipped over his, what he found to be a devilish smile to meet with his was when he decided to back off knowing he was not going to get past the magi.  

They knew they were not done with this. And tonight, they were going to discuss more. 

Talthorn had made a very dramatic change of his clothing when a meeting was confirmed with this man. He stood in a confident pose, head held high while still wearing a rather all knowing smile on his face. His hair had been transformed back to his more tidy and formal approach of two thick, silver braids on either side of his shoulder and his long top knot flowing down all the way down his back. He chose to wear his blue and gold arcanist regalia robe. 

He wanted to make a rather serious impression. It was important that Beaureve would see he was there on business instead of an easy going conversation in Dalaran's inn. 

Beaureave arrives in his rather glamorous and eye catching attire. He looked as if he could take the stage at any time with his violet blue choices in what might be seen as a costume to many. He thought this meeting up with one of his fellow Tarts would be that more of a casual setting, so he approaches he is momentarily stunned with the Kaldorei's appearance. 

"You're a..." he speaks before thinking fully.

"How unexpected." he begins to smirk slowly. "You wish to speak of my Lord." he almost plays with those last words wanting to strike a reaction.

Talthorn turns to greet the man with a half nod of his head, noticing that the priest did not look much different than the first time that they were in the same room together. His smile never shifts, almost cool in its delivery. There is a momentary pause as Beaureve comments on what he was? Or what the man thought he was. Hearing the younger man address him as a Lord. He would take that if it meant that he could strike a more upfront stance with the other. 

"I do. This way. If you please." he gestures toward one of the empty tables for them to sit. Beaureve would receive no reaction to his liking right now.

The entertainer moves to sit gracefully and folds his hand on the table to look over his company. This night had just become very interesting for him. Here he was expecting a flamboyant person, and instead was sitting before a rather self assured and borderline intimidating presence. "Are you here with offers to bring me into your collection? I must tell you upfront I am exceptionally expensive." 

Talthorn turns his head slowly, his eyes not leaving the man. Collection? Surely he did not think true on that. A matter to address some other time. "I want to know more about the substance that you gave to my friend, Jiro." he begins. 

Beaureve looks slightly disappointed. He ahs gently and slips out one of his vials from his bracelet. "You mean this." he shows it to the mage, turning it ever so slightly so he can see the vibrant liquid dance. "It's an enhancing drug. For the senses. Very friendly to new users and in stronger doses will give even the most seasoned veterans sensations beyond imagining. Your friend received a trial 'stress free' edition to have her come down from whatever she is so livid in life with."

Talthorn looks it over to the enchanting vial's liquid with a rather neutral expression. In truth, he didn't have a negative reaction toward drugs unless they were exceptionally damaging. He was mature enough to know people sought escape. "I see. I heard you mention that you also use magic with it?"

Beaureve nods in confirmation. "I can. To expand the experience even farther should it be desired. I have spells and abilities that can reach into the very mind. Take over for someone that does not want to feel pain or anxiety they are feeling. Let them feel sweet memories, receive tantalizing visions, or just have me embrace their thoughts and let them be completely taken care of. A service most people find rather fulfilling in an unfulfilling world."

And that is where the magi holds in his breath, having a silent discomfort with this. He had been correct with what he heard. Mind control, manipulation. His heartbeat begins to quicken under his calm demeanor. 

"How much." Talthorn points to the vial he holds. 

The priest's eyebrows raise. "You are simply full of surprises, my Lord. However you are going to be more specific. How much did you wish to purchase?" he smiles slowly already,  glad this could be a lucrative transaction. 

"All of it." Talthorn speaks firmly and looks right to Beaureve rather determined. 

Beaureve almost sputters and he stares a moment in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

The magi takes another breath in and then speaks again. "More specifically, I want to purchase all of your supplies that you were ever to bring at any function featuring the Tarts and any full function I am attending at any given time. I give you your gold, you refrain from offering these elixirs and mind manipulations for that event. I want you compensated so that you can guarantee that you will not be tempted to offer this to my friends and my most dear."

The priest watches from the other side of the table. "You're that concerned." Beaureve is not opposed to the idea; he is just very surprised. "I think an arrangement can be made if you are honestly good for your funds. Your most dear. The ones you were dancing with I assume."

Talthorn finally smiles brighter, showing his pride in being able to conduct matters in a mature fashion! He pauses with the man's inquiry. "Both of them. Especially. Inside or outside any event. You will never offer them these. Whatever additional compensation you need. Will be met." 

Beaureve slips the vial back into his bracelet carefully but keeps his look right on the other. "We shall define those when we meet again perhaps." his eyes still glowing in their allure of this entire situation. He was exchanging potential clients for confirmed income whenever these troupe events were concerned. 

"Tell me, my Lord. Have you ever been to Suramar." 

There was some hesitation in Talthorn's face when being asked such things. Despite them reaching a rather preliminary agreement, there was still no established trust. Holding up his head in a rather dignified fashion, he wonders if it was time to fix that. The twisting feeling in his chest lingered. 

"It has been a while." he confesses knowing one would now be in his future, very soon. He would get this threat under control, one way or another.

@daily-writing-challenge​

(( Expanded thoughts on actual rp events featured last week, showing yet again Talthorn’s need to protect his friends and most dear. I am not used to roleplaying my mage as being so uneasy, but it’s great. I look forward to the coming developments of this!