Pain is Naer

[Kalortah]

9th of Cylus 719 Afternoon

Kalortah was just coming out of the Knight’s Rest, his new favorite haunt to busk at. He’d made some good coin too. No apefish to bug him, as they were all going out to sea to plunder the ocean of their fish. No halfriels were about, and people barely talked to him. In all, a good day of work.

He was cheerful enough that he started whistling. As he skipped along, his bird companion flew overhead. It was chirping rather loudly. Almost obnoxiously, but Kalortah wasn’t paying attention. He was very inspired by his success.

His necklace, his spare after having been robbed of one earlier in Cylus, was hanging from his neck. It was gold, shiny, really valuable. He’d spent much of his take in Athart on it. Slave money. Nobody cared much for singers in Athart, least of all ones that were mere novices.

He had to thank that Naer that had tipped him off to Scalvoris. His singing had come along nicely, he thought. Although, he did feel a slight cold coming on. Perhaps it’d be a good time for him to take a little vacation from the mobs of lesser races.

He sighed, breathing in the fresh air. His cardinal was screeing overhead, positively screeing, but he didn’t care. What did he have to worry about. He'd been beaten twice in the last twenty trials, was lightning really going to strike thrice?

He whistled as he hopped onto a cobbled sidewalk, adjoining a series of dark, narrow alleyways.

He even tapped his drum a little, while he went. It was a good afternoon to be him.

[Navyri]

I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;

The duo were at another tavern, not unlike their first meeting. Fate, but more like insidious circumstance, had interwoven the two women’s lives as they completed their business. But all work and no play makes for two dull girls.

Nav sat, softly singing an old song under her breath, hair pulled back in a careless bun with a book in one hand and a drink of scotch in another. Leather boots propped up on the water stained table, she was leaned back, chair balanced on two legs and took a long, slow drink as she turned the page. A book on tactics in her possession, she skimmed a hand drawn diagram illustrating a single flanking maneuver with a dark curiosity, Maxine getting a refill for her own mug at the bar. It was a surprisingly natural sort of arrangement, the two more than happy to be left to their own devices and yet when it came to the simple things, the drinking, the eating, the fighting, they shared a fair amount of similarities. Same tavern or not, they continued to remain separate entities.

The Naer thought she heard the woman shout a few profanities, perhaps at a man who looked like he wanted to lose a hand, but all she did was smirk and return to her drink. Curio was flying outside, circling the skies. He fed her glimpses of the city at night, but then an emotion of cold curiosity trailed through their bond.

The Naer pulled the glass from her lips and stared at the page, but did not see it. She was was watching something else far more interesting. Another bird, quite special in quality, dipped in the skies and she ordered Curio to go higher, 'Find its owner'. It appeared Daddy Delroth had wandering eyes again.

This was not the first Tarouz Navyri had learned of, but she always liked to see who was in the Immortal’s flock. She liked to test their mettle. After all, they were her competition for power and if she was going to be damned, she might as well be the best damned thing. Curio dipped between some buildings and over an old tavern. Walking along the cobblestone steps was a figure, slight with light coloring. She felt a wave of surprise at spotting his wings, and a unfamiliar rush of dissatisfaction.

Vision returning to her surroundings, Navyri pondered this information and finished the paragraph she had been reading. Swallowing the rest of her drink, she kicked off and rose to her feet. To Maxine, she marched. She had no reason for telling her this, but was attempting to remain cordial as the only other person she recognized in the establishment, “I’m going out for some air.” Her hand twitched, a lie the the Audnev would have noticed if she cared to, and without another word, Navyri left the tavern and took to the skies.

Her shadow danced over the ground and then she was landing, quiet as a mouse in an alley. It was evening, many of the Element guards switching their shift duties, and she weaved through the buildings, dark silhouette disappearing around the corners. She waited patiently, and when she saw him begin to walk past, Navyri sunk her sharpened nails into the shoulders of the smaller man and yanked him backward, towards the darkness of the evening awnings and away from the eyes of onlookers. Her threat washed over the back of his neck, “Scream and I’ll cut your throat, little bird.”

Throwing him to the ground, she smiled.

All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.

[Max]

Harsh as a descriptor as it was, it was true. Maxine and Navyri weren't just partnered up. They'd been sullied to one another. Their pairing had been organized by beings far more powerful than themselves; beings they too were sullied to thanks to their past misadventures. Now their paths and general goals were aligned. Mere mortals, they were out to please these higher powers in hopes for a most ambitious, desirable reward. Securing what Maxine had so badly wanted was always at the forefront of her mind these trials. More than likely, the fruits of tomorrow rested just as heavily on Navyri's. Their mutual focus made their collaboration promising. Even at its base, it made spending time "off-duty" less of a chore.

The marked woman let her caramel gaze drift toward the woman seated with the book before her. Her interest in her associate's status was masked as quickly as it manifested. She turned back toward the bar and gave a head nod to the bar keep. The man's intelligent eyes bounced down to the mug clutched in her hand. In a trill he was moving back toward her, uncorking the rum bottle before he'd even reached her end of the counter. The ex-convict smirked at the sound of her vice filling the mug in her void.

Good boy. All the way to the top.

The man wasn't necessarily clever. He just had a working memory, and when a customer was the breed of booze hound Maxine was, her job became as easy as it did predictable. Rum. Just rum. All the way to the brim, and she was happy. Happy, until another patron managed to sour her mood. Then his job turned violently chaotic and the real fun began. For now, the raven-haired menace seemed content as she tasted the next round. She'd drink her drink, roll some dice, and hopefully leave after a couple breaks without busting any skulls with his furniture. Hopefully.

"Watch it, you clumsy fuck," Max growled as a patron pushed past her toward the bar counter. The same idiot rotated to face her, jostling her just enough so that some rum sloshed out of her mug. Her caramel eyes watched the liquor where it wet the hand holding the mug, dripping onto the tavern floor. Her right hand balled into a knuckle-white fist and her gaze turned dark. She took a long drink of rum and cast her attention upon the thick man. It was then that Navyri appeared beside her and her channel was momentarily changed. Her brow furrowed, and as she monitored the woman for deception as she was wont to do, she noticed the subtle twitch of the woman's hand. The impending punch to the man's head never came and he was left to make his request from the bartender. Meanwhile, Maxine was curiously watching her partner in crime wander out the tavern door.

The fuck reason does she have to lie?

She shook her head and went back to her drink. No, no. This was a partnership built on greed and necessity. Period. This was Max's Arc. Whatever Navyri was up to was her business to handle all on her own. Another drink. A couple more trills. Logic and instinct were ripping her apart from the inside out until she was practically crawling in her own skin. Maxine finished the rest of that full drink, slammed it down on the bar counter, and let out a flurry of offensive curses on her way toward the door. Whether she liked it or not, Navyri's business had become her business. Her own success relied on the winged woman. There was no getting around that fact. If it whatever she was up to was boring and inept, she'd be happy to leave it be. And if not...

"What'd you sink your talons in?" Maxine asked as she appeared in the duo's shadowy backdrop. She arched a brow, tilting her head slightly as she surveyed the man. "You spotted him well enough away. Business?" And for not telling her about this prey before she left the tavern, he'd better not be. "Or personal?" The ex-convict crossed her arms. In any case, the two women could agree on one thing. If he was of Navyri's interest, gaining the interest of an Element or a bystander would put him in a world of hurt.

Dialogue|Thoughts

[Kalortah]

As swift as a falcon, Kalortah was grabbed by the shoulders and dragged into a nearby alleyway. He winced as the pain of the claws in his shoulders dug beneath his skin. He could feel the blood oozing out. He heard the threat at the back of his neck, and remained calm, though he did snarl in reaction to his assailant's gall. When at last she threw him like a ragdoll on the ground, he landed on his behind with an 'oof'. Then and only then, he saw his attacker for the first time.

She had the look of a human, or perhaps a naer with the bright eyes and body tattoos. But there was something blatantly different about her. A pair of huge wings stretched unnaturally out of her back. He squinted at her. No hair-feathers or skin feathers. She was no Avriel. Not even in part, he could tell. He sneered at her.

"How dare you!" He said, not quite raising his voice, but almost speaking a gentle admonishment one might give to an errant child. "Who are you, and what do you want with me?"

His eyes trailed her very large wings, and his lips curled into another sneer, "What have we here? A pretender, in costume? Abominable, filthy creature!"

He stood, and dusted himself off, if they let him. Emboldened by their allowing him to get up, and straightened up before insulting them some more. "Come over to Athart, sometime. We'll teach you what we think of pretenders and costumed fools who think they can put on our most glorious feature, whether it be by divine gift, artifice, or magic. Halfbreeds, quarterbreeds... You almost make them seem tolerable."

He spat toward the side, his jewelry jingling with every motion he took.

"Now, grant me room to fly out of this filthy gutter you've dragged me into." He smiled, satisfied for the moment in his speech.

Just then, someone appeared in her shadow, another woman. There was something different about this one, however. A touch of something that made the feathers stand up on the back of Kalortah's neck. He hissed involuntarily at her.

[Navyri]

I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;

Max had followed them. Of course, she did.

Navyri was watching the Avriel, “Personal,” her tone was casual, eyes roaming over the man’s dress and frame. His necklace glinted even in the dying sun, and Navyri took another step closer, “Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about.”

“How dare you!” the man screeched from the ground, "Who are you, and what do you want with me?"

“Nightingale,” Navyri answered, beginning to circle the Avriel. The last full blooded one she had met had been far more intimidating than this sad little creature. And of course, Noth had been haunting, but not all birds could be vultures, it seemed, “A nickname from a mutual friend.”

Nav glanced at Maxine, “You can go back to the tavern. I won’t be long.”

"What have we here? A pretender, in costume? Abominable, filthy creature!"

Her little victim rose to his feet, dusting himself off as his feathers stood indignantly. She found this amusing, and smiled. She wasn’t so much offended by his ranting; born a Naer, there were very few places in the world that viewed her race favorably, and now with Avriel wings, everyone was always so quick to make assumptions. Let them talk. They were all rats anyway.

He continued on with his spiel, but it wasn’t just an insult to her appearance that she heard - but a threat, “Come to Athart?” she repeated, humming in understanding. How disrespectful, and from a coward too.

He spat to the side, but the disgust lingered. Navyri’s smile faltered and she laced her fingers together, giving an acquiesced wave of her hand after he demanded a chance to fly away. She stepped back politely and watched his wings open, and like a viper she shot forward.

She flourished, spinning and lifting her right elbow, connecting it to his throat, her other hand, reaching up to grab the wing by his alula arch, Navyri tore forward, the sickening pop of his wing dislocating from his shoulder and she pulled down across her shoulder and hooked her foot to keep him in place. It happened all within ticks, but her displeasure was not done. She moved without mercy, her precision unnerving. Navyri might not have been the strongest, but she was clever and she was mean.

Back at the Avriel's side before he could even begin choking on his scream, she sent a foot flying into the soft backside of his knee, her boot collapsing his leg as she caught the other wing and jerked it with unnatural force while he fell. Another pop and the gargling of gasps. On his knees, Navyri grabbed his skull, raking her claws across his flesh as she pulled his head back by a fistful of hair and looked down. Blood began to drip from his scalp and down his face in a red mess. There was no amusement in her icy gaze when she watched him, “We’re done, when I say we’re done.”

Navyri threw him away from her and lifted her chin. One by one, she began removing her rings and slipping them into the bag at her waist; no explanation given to her companion. Maxine would understand what would be coming next, there was only one outcome when a predator was presented with prey. She kept the question to the other woman simple while considering the next punishment; as casual as asking for someone to pass the salt, "Staying or going?"

All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.

[Max]

So it was personal. The tension and defensiveness subtly left her shoulders. Business was what had brought the unlikely pair into cooperation, and more recently, what had coaxed the ex-convict out of the warm tavern in favor of this cold alleyway. She leaned against the building wall. It would seem now that she hadn't much reason to stay. From the looks of it, Navyri had things well handled. Her curious eyes watched as the poor winged wretch stood and spat his surface insults. There was no mistaking this one. He was an Avriel alright, and straight from the motherland it would seem. With a risen brow, Maxine glanced between the winged folk for the duration of the jumped man's tirade. Pride and arrogance coursed vividly through every jabbing dig he made.

What a douchebag.

She shrugged toward Navyri when the woman suggested she return to her watering hole. Max didn't much like being brushed off, but she didn't feel inclined to involve herself in what amounted to a petty race war. What did appeal was the call of another round and a seat in the corner. She stood up straight and thought to turn from the conflict as if she'd never come across it to begin with. That's when she heard it, and snapped her head to focus on the Avriel to confirm exactly what her ears had suspected.

Did...did that motherfucker just hiss at me?

He spread his wings, and just before Maxine had a thought to turn the air against him to prevent his departure, her appointed partner in crime moved with stunning precision. Thrown elbows were child's play compared to the smirk-eliciting sound of wing dislocated straight from the socket. Most would not have gone so far. Breaking bones and disrupting anatomy over slights was something of a crime lord mentality. It was brutal and cruel, not encouraging respect but commanding it with induced pain and fear. Navyri didn't stop at one. She duplicated her first assault and reaped the creature's ability of flight. It all happened to fast and still Maxine hadn't missed a single trill of it.

This was not Navyri Nightingale, a regional fashion icon and sought after socialite. This was a women who'd lived in the shadows of a mediocre city life, felt the cruelty of the streets, and thereby learned to dish it back. As she slipped her rings off her fingers and into a bag, Maxine quickly realized Navyri hadn't got where she was purely through hustle. Like her, she discovered how to bleed the world as it had once bled her, and she let it run until it gave her what she demanded from it: everything she could desire.

"Oh, definitely staying," Max answered her brutal ally's question and uncrossed her arms. It was rare she wasn't the one doling out the punishment. Rarer still was when she had the luxury of observing another's work, even more so when that work was a sadistic sort of beauty to behold. She regarded the mangled man's bloody face for a trill. Yes. All of this would do for that insolent hiss. There would be no fun in leaving a show of this caliber.

"Don't let me distract you," Max encouraged with an appreciative expression. She took a couple steps back to place herself squarely at the corner where the alleyway opened back up to the street. "But do shut him the fuck up. I have a reputation on this island."

If Navyri was to have her fun, Maxine could at least do her the courtesy of playing look-out. She didn't fear the law. Not like she should've anymore. Taking care of a small patrol would be a warm-up now. Trouble was, the Elements knew her far too well now. If one was to identity her, even from afar, as someone connected to an ongoing crime in that alley, no brave soldier would challenge her alone. They'd return with ample numbers to successfully apprehend the Element Killer with fewer casualties. No one wanted to deal with the headache of all that, least of all the Warden. For now she'd be content with occasionally glancing about Scalvoris Town while enjoying the violent content to her right.

Immortals help that boy if he opens his mouth again.

Dialogue|Thoughts

[Kalortah]

Kalortah had been through some rough areas of Scalvoris Town during his stay. Usually the ruffians he encountered took their pound of flesh in the way of whatever nels he was carrying at hand and then were off. Little did they know that he usually preferred to run up a debt for his performances. As he was getting better at singing, the proprietors became more accepting of his performance, at times even seeking to book his appearances. His career had been coming along.

But this particular thug, this pair of she-devils, to them this appeared to be something personal. The winged one didn't take kindly to Kalortah's invitation to Athart. He thought one such as she might even take it as an honor, to be told to go to the most Glorious city in all of Idalos. But no.

Tasting freedom for just one sweet moment, he spread his wings, and prepared to take to the wing, when her arms came down on his feathery appendages. He would have screamed, had her lightning quick elbow to his throat not temporarily silenced his voice.

"My voice!" He rasped quietly but with despair. "What have you done oh my wings!"

He crumpled to the ground, going into shock from the sudden dislocation of his wings and hard hit to his throat. Already, she'd taken from him two of his prized attributes and in an instant snuffed them out. His mind swirled with chaos and confusion. He felt himself fading when she took his head in her clawed hands, and traced lines of blood across his face.

He looked up at her, and for the first time felt what he supposed those enslaved of his city felt when staring their doom in the face. He did the only thing he could think then.

He would beg. He didn't want to give her any ideas, but she'd already shown herself to be perfectly capable of cruel imagination when it came to his treatment.

"Please, don't kill me!" He barely got the words out with a cough. Then a sigh as he fell unconscious in the snow.

His twisted wings fell on his back as he crumpled to the ground, completely and utterly outmatched by the much stronger Naer woman.

~~~~~~~~

Hours after, after the women left Kalortah to stew in his blood, sweat, and broken wings, the avriel rose to his feet. The cold pain of having been shattered and left to die broke him. He hobbled his way down the street, looking for anyone who could direct him back toward the University, where he might find a good healer.

Eventually he found just such a person, who pointed him in the right direction. Kalortah headed off to the university.

There, he received splints and binds after having his wing bones set, as well as a few broken ribs. When asked how he'd hurt himself, he was very tight lipped. Not wanting to run afoul of such women again, he decided it was best to let it lie, lest the issue come back to haunt him.

When they were done, he felt his wings and their renewed pain. The doctors and nurses gave him anywhere between two tentrials to mid Ashan before he would be ready to fly again. In the meantime, they prescribed some exercise for his recovery, and to strengthen those muscles that had been strained by the dislocation of his wings.

He went back to the broken down opera house he'd been shacking up in after the doctor's visit.

[Aegis]

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Thread Review

Boy oh boy is Kalortah so dramatic. This was interesting, I always enjoy watching some cats play with their prey. I would like to see y'all pump out a few more words in the future, if only to try and reach the minimum for each of you. Anywho, well done.

Word Count: 4033
Review Request Link: viewtopic.php?f=242&t=17435&start=80#p116580

Kalortah

• Skill Points - 15
• Renown - 10
• Skill Knowledges
  1. Discipline: There's a fine line between stupidity and courage.
  2. Discipline: Enduring extreme pain.
  3. Endurance: Taking a massive beating.
  4. Etiquette: You need to respect the powerful and influential.
  5. Etiquette: How not to talk to a lady.
  6. Flying: Your take-off can be interrupted with a swift chop to the wings.
  7. Flying: It's hard to fly without functional wings.
  8. Intimidation: Weaklings aren't scary.
• Non-Skill Knowledges
• Items and Other Rewards

Navyri

• Skill Points - 15
• Renown - 10
• Skill Knowledges
• Non-Skill Knowledges
• Items and Other Rewards

Maxine

• Skill Points - 15
• Renown - 10
• Skill Knowledges
• Non-Skill Knowledges
• Items and Other Rewards

Player 2

• Skill Points -
• Renown -
• Skill Knowledges
• Non-Skill Knowledges
• Items and Other Rewards

Final Notes

If you have any questions, please PM me.

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