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Post by Akara on Nov 11, 2015 21:18:50 GMT
Akara chuckled and gave the pale woman's hand a squeeze. "I know I'm a little short." He explained good-naturedly. "I've never let it stop me from doing what I please - what matters more than your height is how tall you walk, I think." The compact Dereth explained, smirking up at Steel Eyes. In spite of himself, he wasn't having a horrible time. She was decent enough conversation, aside from the whole 'murderer' thing she had going on. She was pretty, in a 'just crawled from a Shadowland' way. "If nothing else, it means I'll be teaching you how to lead when we dance, later - it's easier for the taller partner to lead the dance." He added.
With Eyes' hand in grasp, they were off again - leaving the bridge behind and walking aimlessly though Marita's festive streets together. Although it was Steel Eyes' turn to ask a question, Akara took her silence to mean that she couldn't come up with one, or that she'd tired of the game. Time to gracefully change the subject in either case. "So - what is next?" Akara asked, glancing up at Steel Eyes with a playful glint in his own, while casually adjusting his sash with a free hand. "It would be unfair of me to leave it all upon your shoulders, so..."
Negotiators gonna negotiate. "I suggest one of two options. Marita has wonderful theatre, and I've no doubt we could find a show with little difficulty. This is option one." He explained, holding up a finger as they walked. "The second choice, is that we go to a tea house and have a meal. As much as I do enjoy these sandals, they aren't the best for walking around in." He explained sheepishly. Or fighting in, but that didn't really need to be said. At least the custom of the land wasn't high heels. It was hard to feel masculine in high heels, even if they did make his backside look more amazing than usual. "Unless you have a third idea, I leave the choice up to you."
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Post by Steel Eyes Forsaken Bitterness on Nov 11, 2015 23:20:15 GMT
Steel Eyes allowed herself the simple pleasure of being guided along hand in hand. She didn't mind the height difference between the two. It was hardly noticeable in truth...at least to her.
"We could bring a violent death strike to creation," she said bringing her free hand up then down as if slicing with a sword, "watch as it falls into the abyss until finally only we remain as formed creatures then drop into the abyss ourselves."
She looked at Akara with a serious expression for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. "I'm kidding! I just wanted to see your reaction." she said wiping an eye with her finger. "Let's have the theatre. If you'll still take me that is."
She hoped her joke didn't ruin things but like the Dereth joke earlier it was something she couldn't pass on saying. She slipped along afraid to loft her feet too high lest she lose the sandals common to these parts. She wondered what she would do when asked what she did in Marita. The truth obviously but would she survive it? She couldn't say.
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Post by Akara on Nov 12, 2015 13:38:27 GMT
Akara's jaw clenched, and for a moment, he wagered how easily he'd be able to put her hand in an iron grip and whip her against one of those fine stone-and-wood railings they were ambling so casually by. Then she started laughing, and Akara allowed a weak laugh, followed by a more earnest one. "That isn't fair! My joke was bawdy, yours had me worried." He protested. If nothing else, she'd finally succeeded in getting his heart racing without anyone getting hurt.
Akara couldn't appear more relieved if he tried.
The young man chuckled and pulled Steel Eye's arm around his shoulder, taking the opportunity to bump the Abyssal with his hip. "You are horrible. Of course I will still take you." He added with a dry smile. Let it not be said that justice didn't posses a sense of humor! Because Akara absolutely did, no question about that. "I believe there's a decent theatre - yes. Around this corner. I believe the evening show starts soon - let's hurry so we get a good seat!"
The sandals might not be the most comfortable things to walk around in, but that wouldn't stop Akara from pulling Steel Eyes forward at almost a jog, paying for their tickets, and settling into a decent, middle-of-the-row seat to watch; what else? A bawdy comedy of some sort. Horrible, sometimes dirty jokes seemed to be the order of the day, when it came to non-voilent distractions.
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Post by Steel Eyes Forsaken Bitterness on Nov 13, 2015 15:02:42 GMT
Steel eyes let out a slight yelp as they sped to nearly a jog, or as close as one could get in wooden sandals and a kimono. She couldn't help but hold the kimono up a bit from her ankles and move at the smaller woman's pace. She was quite a sight in his kimono and bun while still sporting his sash.
Soon they found themselves at the theatre and with snacks in hand they found there way into the seats. She wondered why the people didn't recognize her. Many had seen the armored abyssal standing over the man while he oozed life onto the ground. She didn't regret it. He was free now, and perhaps if he was resurrected soon he would not have to suffer long. If he clung to life, as some did, she would be able to see him again before long anyway.
She popped another piece of the ginger in her mouth and let it sit for a moment as they watched the actors portray a scene from the West of a bawdy bunch on an island she'd never heard of and a talking tortoise that told better jokes than most of the rest. She leaned to the side slightly and offered her bag of fire popped corn kernels to Akara.
"The turtle is funny." she whispered as she held the snacks open for the Dereth. If the mortals around them only knew.
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Post by Akara on Nov 15, 2015 16:01:51 GMT
"I like his friend, the brush-spirit." Akara whispered in return, grinning. Was it any surprise that he'd take a shine to the single most filthy-minded character in an already almost-lurid play? Maybe a little bit, but Akara-at-work and Akara-at-play were two almost entirely different faces. As the Lawgiver, Akara was an intrepid traveler with no room for nonsense or foul play, a driven champion of justice and Good. The Akara watching the play was a kind-hearted, somewhat excitable young man with an unquenchable zest for life and a deep streak of optimism running through his often-troubled mind like a streak of gold on a field of dark blue. And it just so happened that he had a love of dirty jokes.
Nothing could bring back the man that Steel Eyes had slain - the best hope for him was to pass through the river Lethe and onto whatever mystery lay behind it. The other option was the unending torture and bleak eternity that was The Underworld. Whichever happened, there was no coming back for any soul; whether Exalted or Mortal, from the most pious farmer to the greatest champions, death was a final and irrevocable fact. That she'd condemned a man to that for a taunt would perhaps forever color Akara's opinion of Steel Eyes, and bothered him even now, but it needn't dominate the palette. What had happened had happened and could not be undone.
It was his hope that by perhaps showing the dark woman a better form of happiness, that it might temper her bloodlust or even turn her towards a more righteous path. Had he understood exactly how the corrupted, inverted thing that she was had been turned from the Light, and how that would likely doggedly haunt any attempt at benevolence she made, Akara might have done the merciful thing and slain her immediately in the plaza.
But he did not know this. She was a creature of darkness, and inherently unnerving because of it - but that didn't mean that Akara had to turn away from her. How brightly could a light claim to shine, if it shied away from illuminating a shadow too dark? Folding one leg over the other, Akara shifted towards Steel Eyes and accepted the offering of corn, smirking playfully as he popped it past his lightly painted lips. Almost flirting, but not quite. He was having fun, wasn't she?
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Post by Steel Eyes Forsaken Bitterness on Nov 17, 2015 12:28:48 GMT
She let out a laugh, a real laugh, the kind she would have let out when she was a girl in her village. The sound surprised her and she raised a hand to her face to cover her mouth. The sound tampered off as she watched the people on the stage, people she had every intention of killing just a few hours before. Her eyes looked down at the floor as she quietly hung her head. Her expression became distant, eyes unfocused, as she thought of the two men she had killed. Would they have enjoyed this before they died? Had she truly ended their suffering, or had she caused it, she wasn't so sure anymore.
Her tattooed hand still rested lightly near her full red painted lips, finger tips just barely touching the mouth that had sworn to serve her master. Those steel grey eyes almost white slowly looked up and glanced at the mortals that were oblivious to what she truly was. How many of them would have made the decision to take power over accepting death? Had she made the right choice at all? Would Akara have chosen death over what she had become? The questions came in a rush and she had no answers.
She let her hand lower slowly as she lifted her head and calmly put another kernel of corn in her mouth and chewed slowly. She had wanted this, this little date with the young hero dereth, but did she deserve to enjoy it? The answer to that was a sad, no. She tucked a stray black hair behind her pale ear and focused on the theatre. The bawdy humor and euphemisms were things she only partly understood but they were funny, even refreshing in a way. These people didn't seem to be suffering like she was taught. They didn't seem to want release from existence. They seemed vibrant and happy as if the daily struggles were not something they feared or regretted but rather something to be looked at in retrospect and laughed away. She had wanted to be a hero, like Akara, but was she truly, had the promise she had been given, the teachings she received, had they been the truth?
She glanced at the happy Akara and wondered if the faces of those she had murdered kept rising to the front of his mind like they did hers. A faint smile reached her lips as she forced down the doubts she now had and remembered that he was keeping a contract and nothing more.
"The brush-spirit is funny too." She said nodding a little, "They're all pretty great." She didn't know if that last statement was about the acting or a realization about their living condition, and that troubled her as much as anything.
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Post by Akara on Nov 18, 2015 5:14:53 GMT
The play, after no small amount of lurid jokes and side-splitting humour, finally reached a fairly satisfactory conclusion. Akara wasn't ashamed to laugh and applaud enthusiastically as the actors came on stage to take a bow, and made a mental note to keep am eye out for any other plays by the same author. Shell In the hand, two in the bush had been worth every shiny oobol he'd payed for admission. Truly, Marita was never a wasted stop when traveling.
As they left the theatre with the throngs of other chatting couples, Akara offered Steel Eyes a faint smile - after so long sitting, the Sun was already setting and he didn't mind having his sandals back on. In fact... sharp ears could pick up the jovial sounds of music, laughter and conversation not far away. Sure, it was less loud than the central plaza, but the central plaza carried the threat that somebody might recognize them and call the guard. That was needless complication on the night, and if his investigator's instincts weren't wrong, Steel Eyes had turned introspective. Perhaps even a little contrite. Not the best mood for a date, but maybe she was beginning to see the error of her ways.
"Let's go dance." Akara decided abruptly, taking Steel Eyes' hands in his own ands grinning. Walking backwards with a bright smile, the Solar pulled his companion around a corner and onto the dance floor of a small pavilion, no time for hesitation or worries. It was the natural state of young people to enjoy life, to enjoy each other, and dancing was one of the most basic ways of expressing that zest - that joie de vivre that was so pervasive and (in Akara's opinion) lured out by pretty clothes and lively music. "Put your hand on my hip - right here..." He instructed brightly. "Lead me."
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Post by Steel Eyes Forsaken Bitterness on Nov 23, 2015 15:18:28 GMT
She was quietly walking when with a bright attractive smile the sweetheart took her hands and began to drag her onto the dance floor of the lovely pavilion. His eyes bright with the combination of youth and good cheer. She offered no resistance as he placed her hand in his hip and willingly held the other as he bid her lead. It had been so long since she'd danced. She wondered if she remembered how.
The musicians played a lovely upbeat song with violins and instruments she didn't know. Pipes and bells pierced the air with their happy tones as she took her first step forward right and began to twirl her temporary companion around the circle. It was funny how quickly her feet recalled steps to the old southern dance. It wasn't what the other dancers did but it fit the music well enough. She smiled and giggled like a girl as she looked down at Akara and for a moment forgot that he was only here for a contract. A contract that likely made sure they'd never meet again.
Her steel-colored eyes shone brightly in the fading sun as she did her best to lead and avoid her dancing partner's feet. So far no toes were injured. That was a success at least. She tightened her hold on Akara bringing them slightly closer without thinking and spun around like a whirling dervish for a moment and actively avoided the desire to kiss the dereth's cheek and say thank you. Maybe later.
"I love this song." she said over the music as she continued to lead and grow fonder of her new...well, friend.
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Post by Akara on Nov 24, 2015 5:11:02 GMT
It was good that she remembered the dances of the South, for there was no place where Akara danced more. The whirling of skirts, the stamping of feet; everything was motion, as though their bodies were flames licking eagerly at fuel. The graceful spins and close holds of the East were to be admired, but in the South? Life was dangerous, heated, and frantic. You lived loudly, and enthusiastically.
Akara was a tornado of motion once he and Steel Eyes found a rhythm - full, bouncing curls of thick black hair, furtive and teasing looks. His hips were a seductive, swinging pendulum that lacked only for a belly dancer's bared midriff and attire. It should come as no surprise, after all; swinging, graceful motion and uncannily hypnotic movements were a staple of his martial art. The dereth was in full bloom, proudly displaying his feathers for all to see - but only for one to touch.
And he wasn't above a contagious giggle once Steel Eyes gave the same, grinning up at the dark woman with the pale skin.
Eyes began to slow a bit - In time with the music, or perhaps just to appreciate a bit of intimacy. Trusting his lead, Akara slowed as well. He turned and pulled the taller woman's arms around his waist, swinging slowly to the music, beaming as she confessed a love for the music. Smirking over his shoulder, Akara stretched his arms up and pulled the Abyssal's head down beside his own. Should he point out how nice things were if you simply allowed yourself to enjoy them? How their status as champions wasn't worth throwing away the simple enjoyment of life and youth? No. There was no need. He simply held her and was held, closing his eyes to better enjoy the song and company. "I enjoy it, too." He murmured, a secret for her ears.
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