Hadrian: After a long moment of stunned silence, he speaks. āRemind me not to ever anger you.ā He reaches up to wipe what he assumes to be blood from his cheek, but only succeeds in spreading it around. Oh, gods, he hoped it wasnāt in his hair.
Nekhbet: Nekhbet digs deeper into the mans throat, he has to make sure the job is finished, heās being sloppy for a reason but he doesnāt want to be so sloppy he ends up dead. It is somewhere between the last gurgle of a sound that his target utters before the assassin feels him go limp that he notices that a familiar face is in front of him. His eyes are wide as he looks to the bard, teeth gritting before he mutters out a curse. āFuck.ā Itās all he can say for a moment as he lets pulls back the blade and wipes it off on the targets body (corpse), before letting it drop to the ground with a hard thud.
Nekhbet: There is nothing graceful or beautiful about what heās just done, he wishes that there had been; this was not something heād of wanted Hadrian to see. For a number of reasons, the first two coming to mind being that if he was going to show someone his proverbial art form so to speak, he would have much preferred it to be a more fluid or poetic kill. The second reason being that anyone who saw him kill for business or pleasure didnāt live to tell the tale; or in this case sing songs about it.
Nekhbet: He should kill the other man, by all means everything in his very being is going off right now telling him to, protect yourself his mind rings out; just as you have always done...Nekhbet takes a step forward (as if he might) and around the body, knife still between his fingertips. Heās surprised though when Hadrian doesnāt run, perhaps he is too scared too? Thatās usually what happens, it is then though that he makes a quip and the assassin canāt help but halt in his steps.
Nekhbet: āYou...youāre not going to try and run?ā His eyes narrow, for once Nekhbet finds himself confused, after a moment he takes another step, sliding the blade back down into itās holster. Hadrian was covered in blood, gods this was not supposed to happen, this was not supposed to happen...Shaking his head the vulture moves to perhaps do the kindest gesture heās ever done (besides not killing the bard) he takes off his cloak and attempts to wipe away the blood on Hadrian. āIāll have to burn this now, you know.ā
Hadrian: Hadrian wants to feel sick, or afraid, or anything that a normal person would feel in this situation. It alarms him that he doesn't; he's strangely calm, calmer than he had been around him before. "Should I?" It occurs to him that Kael is still holding the knife, and that Hadrian had just witnessed him murdering someone in cold blood, and that he really doesn't know him that well. He has far more reasons to kill him than to spare him.
But instead he finds him wiping at the blood that he hadn't succeeded in cleaning off himself, a strangely gentle gesture that makes Hadrian feel a bit like a child. "Hm. Yes, I suppose you will." He still isn't sure what to say. "Does it always make such a mess?" The question assumes that the man has murdered before, but Hadrian doesn't think that's an unfair assumption to make.
Nekhbet: He hadnāt seen blood sputter out like that in awhile, even Nekhbet had been (admittedly) caught off guard by it, he probably hit an artery or something he thinks, he wouldnāt be surprised by how deep he went with the blade. His shoulders roll and he lets out a long sigh, this was all too much and yet the bard wasnāt dead, yet.
The warning signs are still going off in the vultures head but heās choosing to ignore them the best he can, itās funny that the smallest of thoughts is the loudest one; the one telling him not to take back out his blade and gut Hadrian just as easy as he had the other man. Nekhbet doesnāt want to hurt Hadrian though, at least not in a way that leaves him breathless; or he takes that back heād leave Hadrian breathless just not dead.
Nekhbet: āWell you did say to remind you to never make me angry, that would be a quick way to do it.ā He says it as if itās a joke, perhaps it is or perhaps it isnāt; Nekhbet doesnāt know anymore as the smallest of cheeky smiles creeps on his lipsā as if there isnāt a dead body slumped to the ground mere feet away from them.
āNot usually no,ā His voice quiet as he gazes around to make sure nobody else had witnessed his crime. What were the chances that it had been Hadrian of all people, if there were indeed gods they had been humorous in this moment; thankfully the assassin sees no one else. āUsually I donāt have an audience and usually itās more...ā He gestures with a hand, as if this was a casual moment but inside his heart is racing, āfluid, less knife work if I can help it.ā Not that he minded getting down and dirty by any means.
Hadrian: āMmm.ā Hadrian nods, as if heād just simply been given a piece of mundane information, and they hadnāt been talking about murder. He looks down at the body; blood pooled on the cobblestone, dark and thick, and the wide wound in the manās throat was a truly gruesome sight. āUsually,ā Hadrian repeats, a bit dazed.
That confirmed his suspicions, though he didnāt know if it was for money or for pleasure just yet. He isnāt sure which he wants to hear. āItā¦ occurs to me that we should probably move along. And wash up, perhaps.ā
Nekhbet: Hadrian was right, in all of his haze at the situation (like a dear when youāve spooked them) he had been more aware of the need to leave the scene, than Nekhbet had even thought about for the briefest of moments. Far too caught up in the situation than he would of liked, he nods, this could be bad this could just be a ploy to get to safetyā¦still he doesnāt think it is. Nekhbet knows liars (he has to look at one in the mirror everyday) and Hadrian doesnāt seem like heās lying right now, or trying to get an angle over on him.
The man is still too busy processing everything Nekhbet has and hasnāt told him he gathers, he canāt help but think yet again how fucked up beyond belief this was. Heād been too sloppyhonestly, he decides then and there he wouldnāt make that mistake again, even if he had the best of reasoning for doing so. Mostly because now he had a weakness, an opening for others to dig at and claw away the layers of.
Nekhbet: āYouāre right, lets.ā He makes a motion to move them both away from the scene of the crime, itās late and heās thankfully it seemed most everyone was already settled into taverns or the castle; some stragglers still out but far too busy on more well lit walking paths. Nekhbet still stuck to the ones less traveled either way.
āI saw a well back this way, weāll clean up there. We go back into the tavern like this and weāre both done for.ā Nekhbet was good at lying, obviouslyā but he wasnāt that good, at least not enough to explain the body the next day if theyād been noticed all bloody. Though to be fair only Nekhbetās gloves had gotten dirty, the rest of him had been surprisingly clean, he supposed thatās because it got all over Hadrian, yikes, his bad.
Hadrian: Hadrian nods again; it seems to be all he's capable of doing. He isn't afraid, but he's shocked, and terribly unfamiliar with how to react in situations such as this. He follows close by Kael, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings. He hadn't killed anyone, but the moment he'd gone along with Kael instead of running and yelling for help, he'd become guilty as well. They reached the well within minutes, and Hadrian went ahead of his companion, sitting down on the edge of it and looking down at himself.
Oh, what a mess. "This was a good tunic," he grumbled. "You owe me some clothes. And a drink." Hadrian could hardly afford clothing; it was a shame to lose a nice piece to bloodstains. "Are you going to help me?" He feels a bit of his normal confidence coming back, and he looks up at Kael, a single eyebrow raised in question.
Nekhbet: The moment Hadrian goes ahead of him is a moment that Nekhbetās heart briefly stops, gods heās so paranoid, too paranoid; but heād never let anyone else see him like this, he feels as though the whole walk to the well heād been naked in a metaphorical sense. Nekhbet doesnāt like feeling vulnerable, or feeling anything at all for that matter other than fleeting dangerous emotions. Still when he approaches the other man and hears him grumble he is reminded why he didnāt kill him back in that alleyway.
āIt was, I think it would have looked better on the floor of my room though.ā He comments wryly back, feeling his own sense of self coming back to him, whatever sense of self he thought he was in need of at the moment anyway. Sometimes the assassin finds it hard to figure out where he started and Kael began, or any of the other people heād pretended to be over the years.
Nekhbet: āIāll buy you both, you name it and itās yours.ā It wasnāt that he was trying to win over the bard but he had recalled a time when heād somewhat showed off that he wasnāt a broke man by any means. That and the added fact that Hadrian was seemingly going to keep quiet about things now that heād went along with him. Nekhbet figures (for now) that things are going good in light of being witnessed.
Smiling almost softly for a change, Nekhbet hums quietly and shakes his head in agreement as he moves to pull the rope; making the bucket go down into the well, before bringing it back up again once itās filled with water. He moves his crumpled up cloak from under his arms and wets it some to try and (gently) get some of the blood off of Hadrianās skin first.
Nekhbet: His eyes momentary locking to Hadrianās and he canāt help but think that the mess of slowly drying blood on otherwise pristine pale skin looks almost...lovely. Itās a sick thought, though to be fair Nekhbet didnāt really have any good thoughts. āYou are just exquisite, do you know that?ā Thereās a grin playing on his face as he recalls what Hadrian had said to him that drunken night they had together, itās not a mocking tone so much as it is a sly one, he hadnāt forgotten those words, how could he?
Heād been with many men and women alike, (more women than men of course) yet Hadrian had really been one of the few not to make a deal out of...well him; if anything the fact heād said such a thing flattered Nekhbet.
He does mean it though when he repeats it back to the bard, eventually his eyes advert back to what he was doing, slowly moving the cloth down from Hadrianās face to his neck, he wants to kiss it; his neck that is, he holds himself back if only for the fact that they are in public (though he does like to live dangerously). This would already seem questionable if they were to be caught and Nekhbet didnāt want to leave a trail of bodies and more questions behind.
Nekhbet: āIām an assassin.ā He finally says rather bluntly, as if heād been asked but, he supposed it was only natural for it to eventually come up and at this point what did he have left to lose (beyond his life). āFor business and pleasure for the record.ā His eyes flicker back up, the cloth now resting in Hadrianās hands his own on top. Heās curious to see the reaction, he canāt help himself nor can he help but wonder if that changes anything between them; whatever it was that they had anyway.
Hadrian: Hadrian snorts at Kael's comment, feeling an involuntary little smirk on his lips. When he stops to think for a moment, he realizes that he should have been damn near traumatized. He's a bard, a writer and musician and reader; a thinker and a talker.
He doesn't fight. He's never seen anyone die. He's never killed anyone. He has never even held a real weapon in his life.
And it had shocked him, seeing something like that from someone he knew, but just minutes later, he was fine. Laughing and smiling like it was just another night. Maybe he isnāt the delicate little daisy of a man heād always thought he was.
Hadrian: āAre you certain you want to tell me that? I have expensive tastes. I was a rich man in a past life, I think. Must have done something terrible to make the gods punish me with this life, now.ā He lets the man clean him up, his hands folded in his lap, entirely unhelpful. He adores the feeling of being cared for, and the fact that Kael had gone and done just that without thinking twice about it. How sweet, he thinks, with only a hint of sarcasm.
Hadrian: It is a strangely intimate few minutes, and Kael is looking at him like he wants to just eat him up. He thinks he canāt possibly look even remotely appealing right now, but something told him that his friend likely wasnāt turned off by a little bit of blood. His next words confirm that, and Hadrian is sure his face has turned a horrible shade of red.
Heās embarrassed to be complimented in such a way, and even more embarrassed by the callback to Hadrianās own comment towards the other the last time theyād been together.Hadrian: He isnāt all that surprised by the admission. There were only a number of things that explained what heād just seen, and that was one of them. It had already crossed his mind. āAh. So I've nothing to worry about from you, then, unless I anger someone with a bit of money.ā
Nekhbet: He shouldnāt have told the other man that, he thinks, he shouldnāt have cleaned him up so tenderly or looked at him in any way that didnāt involve Hadrianās body going limp in his arms now, or back where they started moments ago. He shouldnāt be doing any of this and yet he is, he doesnāt rightfully a good explanation for it, although Nekhbet doesnāt usually have a good explanation for a lot of things other than; he wants to and so he does.
The vulture supposed that was the case right now, his mind hadnāt forgotten about that night back in Dracborough, hadnāt forgotten the bard (un-admittedly heād even been back a few times after that to quietly listen to him in the back of the tavern before stalking off into the night), how heād wanted to forget about him; because forgetting was far easier than feeling and as much as he hated Ironhaven, thatās the first thing that hellhole taught him was a lesson on forgetting.
Nekhbet: This wasnāt love, because the vulture didnāt love and because heād barely known the man, nor was he even sure what love was other than a foreign concept...still it was something, something that he hadnāt been able to ignore as heād done with previous one night stands. Hadrian was better than that, for whatever mundane reasons Nekhbet had decided; he was.
āOh I am sure,ā His tone matter of fact but with just a hint of that devilish attitude heād been known for.Ā āI donāt know, I think you seem like a pretty lucky man to me, gifted with wits, a pretty voice andā He pauses briefly, grinning and biting at his tongue a bit, āthose hands with that faceā ā Nekhbet laughs lowly, deeply, his paranoia briefly causing him to look around them once more before back to Hadrian.
Nekhbet: ābesides fuck the gods,ā Nekhbet hadnāt been dealt the easiest of hands either, heās sure the little scars that riddled his body told that much, nor was he one to believe that some higher beings would have control over him if they even existed. In his eyes there wasnāt even a god of death, unless he counted himself; after all did he not bring such things in his wake? He made his own way and he earned his own way; Hadrian could do the same, did the same perhaps. Nekhbet somehow doubted that the man had been born talented as hard as that might of been to believe with how wonderful he sounded.
Part of him feels disgusted that heās cleaning the other man up while another part of him feels both hungry and almost nurturing; it is a strange mix of emotions that he stifles down. Though that seems harder when red flushes Hadrianās face, he snorts out the smallest of laughs, he canāt help it, he hadnāt expected to earn that sort of look from him and honestly heās eating it up.
Nekhbet: He finds himself halfway between relieved by the last comment, while also amused. āUsually thatās how it works, yeah. I donāt want you dead so thereās that, naked preferably, but not dead.ā Nekhbet moves his hands and leans up, as if to dust himself off before he realized that his gloves were still dirty, he takes them off and tucks them away to burn later. Ā āIf you fold the cloak the other way you can put it over your clothes, itāll look a little damp but I doubt anyone's going to notice till you get a change of clothing.ā
Hadrian: Kael seems so determined in his flattery of Hadrian; most intelligent people would claim that flattery did not get one anywhere with them, but as far as the bard is concerned, it gets one everywhere. He is aā¦convenient lover for most of his companions; drunk and impulsive and lustful, and always ready at the jump with the flowery words and poetic compliments that his typically attention-starved lovers craved. And he is a giver, in all respects. People take what he has to give, and then they leave, and he doesn't mind. But this isn't that, and he can't help but think that it's nice.
Hadrian: "Yes, yes," he agrees with the compliments rather nonchalantly with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But I want more than that." He wants a great deal more than that, he thinks, but he is content to start with just the material things. "I would be a most gracious recipient of any gifts you wish to give. Most gracious, indeed," he adds with a playful smile.
Hadrian: "Ahh." He chuckles. "I'm relieved to hear that. Though, if your mind is ever changed by a heavy bag of coins, I would like you to know that I'd prefer something a bit moreā¦poetic than a slit throat. An arrow through the heart, perhapsā¦or a drop of poison in a glass of sweet red wine." He nearly smiles at the thought.
"Something dramatic. And you can certainly think of something; any good assassin is an artist in their own right. But do be thoughtful. I want them to sing songs about it." He takes the cloak with a sigh; there is a pause once he's well and covered before he finally adds, "And should I ever want to see someone dead, you would be a useful friend to have." He grins at the other man before jumping to his feet. "Now, escort me back to the tavern, would you? There are dangerous people lurking about."
Nekhbet: So nonchalant he takes the complements, Nekhbet could never take them so lightly like that, itās always been rather visible on him when his ego is being stroked, among other things; itās when his mask falters the most heās afraid.
āMore? Then take it, take what you want Hadrian, itās not as hard as you might believe.ā Thereās a coy smile on his lips and he motions his head as if heās making a point but honestly he meant less about them and more just about Hadrian actually just taking what he wanted from the world, itās what Nekhbet did anyway. āIn any case Iāll keep that in mind, you keep looking at me like that and I wonāt be able to say no.ā He admits, he could very well say no, did he want to though was the better question, the answer being he didnāt.
Nekhbet: Idly he wonders if his mind could ever be swayed, he thinks perhaps that it could be, he wasnāt a hard man to buy off depending on how heavy the coin bag was...but...he also thinks he wouldnāt have nearly as much amusement or pleasure in his life after killing the bard, thereād also be significantly less music too.
Heād have to weigh out all the pros and cons if the time ever came, surely he thinks heād want to pass the dead along to someone else but the more he thinks about that the more it disgusts him; Hadrian deserved more than some two bit rate assassin.
He deserved the poetic and dramatic death he wanted by only the best and maybe Nekhbet was just being full of himself but he didnāt think he had a nickname for nothing.
Nekhbet didnāt need much of a reason to think he deserved better either, he simply thought that and so he believed it, no more no less. This is all hypothetical of course, he doesnāt foresee having to kill the bard and actively wants to avoid it if he had anything to do with it. Gods, was he losing his edge, how...disgusting.
Nekhbet: āOh if youād of only seen the things Iāve done, Iām sure I could come up with something people would sing about for centuries to come.ā He wants to dwell on the many ways he might kill the bard, if only to stifle down the fact he thinks heās losing his edge around him. āAlthough I must say, you sound as though youāve thought about this yourself, ever consider using your skills for...more.ā He brings back the notion of more, there would always be more to want, even Nekhbet knew that, itās why he did what he did.
āPeople would trust a pretty faced bard, surely thatās advantageous in the right field.ā He wants to believe he isnāt sure what heās getting at but the sly smile he gives Hadrian tells otherwise, besides the vulture was a lot of things but never stupid or one to mince words.
Nekhbet: He starts to lead them both back towards the tavern, walking them down a different path now, he didnāt want to go back the way theyād came, still he acts casual about it as if theyāve done nothing wrong; almost so well that he could believe it.
āShould you ever want someone dead I am the most useful friend to have, I can name a few other things Iām useful for though too.ā He laughs, especially when he thinks more on the dangerous people comment. āOf course my friend, youāll have no finer escort in all of Zenan.ā He gives way to a mock bow continuing onward.
Hadrian: "If I took everything I wanted, there would be nothing left for anyone else." He says it with a smile, a light tone, but he knows the words still might seem sinister. He doesn't bother to clarify either way.
"I will settle for whatever pretty, shiny things you can provide." He flashes a toothy grin. He is starting to get the impression that his friend is not a poor man, and he knows that wealthy men love to spend their gold on illicit love affairs. It's one of the facts of life he appreciates the most. In all fairness, however, he assumes there must be a difference between a rich criminal and the perfumed and stuffy nobles he is accustomed to.
Hadrian: "My dear Kael, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Hadrian feigns horror at the thought, but a smile plays on his lips. He doesn't find it even a remotely realistic prospect, to be like Kael, but it certainly doesn't horrify him. It is a fascinating thing, in reality. "These hands have never held a real weapon. Surely a thing like that is something to consider more so than my so-called pretty face."
Hadrian: He lets himself be led away, noting that they are taking a new route. A smart move, but there is no one to be seen anyway. He takes this prime opportunity to catch up to him, wrapping his arms around the man's arm and clinging to him. "My hero," he says with a dramatic sigh. It is all in jest, of course, but he doesn't let go after that. He wants to see how long he can get away with it.
Nekhbet: āOh but thatās the idea.ā Thereās an almost equally sinister smile playing on Nekhbetās face to match the implications of Hadrianās tone. āOh you wouldnāt have to settle, I donāt.ā Nekhbet didnāt settle for anything, if he couldnāt get something heād take it one way or another, it wasnāt the best ways to be but he wasnāt the best man either; he rather likes the grin on the bards face though, itās playful and fun and leaves him wanting to keep up their banter, so he does.
Nekhbet: āAs if youāre mortified by the thought, If you had been youād of left the moment you saw me tonight.ā His words are flat but his tone is not as he lets out a snort, if Hadrian had been disgusted heād of left by now, one way or another, heās glad that the other man didnāt leave though. āthereās always poison.ā Nekhbet muses out loud, itās what he usually used anywayā but he gets what the other is saying never the less so he doesnāt push his luck. āStill youāre right, it took me years to get where Iām at, although I like to think,ā He pauses waving a hand for emphasis, he tended to do that quite often, talk with his hands now and again that is;
Nekhbet: āIām a cut above the rest, pun intended.ā Another snort of laughter but before he knows it Hadrian is wrapping his arms around one of his own, if there was ever the briefest most fleeting moment of red on his face it was then. Blood rushing to his cheeks before he coughs to stifle a laugh; he keeps walking, idly letting his eyes fall to Hadrian before looking back around them. Thankfully it had been just them, Hadrian must of known that, the sneaky bastard, oh two could play that game though,
Nekhbet: He leans into the other male, somewhere between resting on him and continuing to walk. āIām no hero and youāre no damsel in distress, surely though that just makes it all the better.ā His fingers interlace between Hadrianās, as eyes carefully scan around them, they would draw near the tavern soon; he didnāt want to be the first to break the contact now, heād almost out right refused losing what heād thought was a teasing game on Hadrianās part.
Hadrian: "I haven't a problem in the world with your profession, it's true. I wouldn't think twice about doing it, if I had any talent for it. But I don't think I do. I think it's safe to say my talents lie elsewhere." He smiles, and he wonders what it was that made his friend suggest such a thing, no matter how subtly it was brought forth. It was not something most people would pick out as a line of work he was suited for, and someone who was an assassin themselves would surely know more about what it took.
Hadrian: "Are you excited by the thought of it?" It's a question he thinks he knows the answer to, and he looks up at him with a grin. "Feel free to let your imagination run wild. I am not offended by it."Hadrian: Hadrian wants so badly to laugh at the reaction he gets from the other man, but he bites his tongue. He doesn't let on too much that it caught him off guard, but the bard catches a moment of surprise on his face that is just priceless.
Hadrian: But it doesn't last long. Soon there's a hand on his and he has to fight hard to keep a smile off his face. "Perhaps not, but I can play the role quite well, if you like." He knows how close they are, and knows they can't exactly walk in like this, but he wants to ensure that he isn't left alone once they get there.
Hadrian: So he stops, pulling the other man to a stop along with him, and plants a kiss firmly on his lips without so much as a pause. "You gave me quite a fright tonight, you know. I'm afraid I have such delicate sensibilities." He speaks with a teasing tone after he pulls away. "Be a gentleman and don't make me spend the night alone. I'm just so... terribly shaken."
Nekhbet: āIād very much like to be reminded of some of those talents, especially the ones that involve your hands, or mouth I suppose Iām not picky.ā He gives a light squeeze on the others hand and licks at his lips idly. There were all kinds of assassins though and what worked for one might not work for another, as long as the job got done though the people dolling out the coin usually didnāt care in most cases.
He supposed him suggesting his line of work to Hadrian had been more wishful thinking than anything set in reality; something heād rather like to see more than anything else. āPerhaps, are you excited by the thought of exciting me?ā He turns it back around coyly, trying to plaster a look of innocence on his face; clearly he is anything but; itās almost believable...almost.
Nekhbet: Let his imagination run wild he would indeed, he canāt help but to let it run to the future, now that Hadrian had been made privy to his life, not all of his secrets but close to it. āIām sure you could, itās part of why youāre so interesting.ā He doesnāt answer if heād like it or not, although he thinks he might, is pretty sure heād might. Not saying anything about it was admission alone he realizes but still doesnāt.
Then heās being pulled int a kiss, the vulture canāt help but be all eyes wide for a second before closing them and pushing his lips into it. Hadrian didnāt just have a way with words, he had a way with Nekhbet. Licking at his lips again after the kiss breaks off he lower his head, tilting it as if he canāt believe the other; clearly heās amused though because itās written more plainly on his face than heād admit to.
Nekhbet: āIāll try not to frighten you in the future then, I promise,ā The assassin brings a hand up, his fingers crossed as if to show he was out right lying, before he places the hand under Hadrianās chin, stroking the side of his cheek with his thumb; eyes locking to the bards, his expression contorting to something momentary predatory.
āIāll show your delicate sensibilities a good time and just why Iām as frighting as I am fun though, so donāt worry.ā His voice is somewhere between a purr and a low growl as he pulls (a bit roughly) Hadrian into a kiss, itās more aggressive than the previous one the other man had given him.
Nekhbet: He breaks away with a soft bite on Hadrianās lips, a contrast to his words and tone. āIāll try my best, I donāt think you want a gentleman though, not really.ā His hand finally drops and he starts walking again. āMhm, but I can still hold that body of yourās still, should you stay shaken.ā Nekhbet doesnāt look back as he calls out behind him, eventually he does though; grinning and gesturing for the bard with a motion of his head for him to go ahead of him.Ā Ā āLead the wayā Your Grace.ā
