• Closed • Bad Intentions

[Patrick]

Ashan 42th 717, 11th Break

Location: Dust Quarter

How long it has been since he's seen Rharne, and how much he yearned to be back home. Two days back he had arrived from a long and difficult voyage across the sea, his days in Cylus spent trying to keep warm while sailing back from the city of Ne'haer. Yet his arrival here wouldn't be as well celebrated as he would've wanted, as he hadn't anybody here waiting for him upon his return. Not to say he didn't arrive with pleasant company of course, but even then Patrick still wound up alone at the end of the day.

Yes. Alone. The life of a bachelor was a cruel one apparently; and while he would've gladly gone back to being rambunctiously drinking among the wilder folk, his spirits sought more than the vices of intoxication and lust for once. He still yearned for an adventure he bailed out on, or rather took into his own hands before the departure from Ne'haer.

Crowley surely wasn't pleased to learn some of his notes were missing, as that definitely made it twice he's been crossed by a partner. The man was old and running out of luck anyways, it wasn't like Patrick didn't do him a favor in taking matters into his own hands. And yet with the feeling of Ashan about the cool moisture within the air antagonized him, worsened any sense of cabin fever he developed while back at his apartment.

All those days looking at frosty oceans and whatnot, and now Patrick could finally roam around on land. Practically kiss the earth beneath him if he wanted to, but that would only make people question his sanity. Thus he took it upon himself to wander down into good old Dust Town, where he spent much of his childhood years growing up. So much had happened since then, so much had changed later on.

Now of course he had to work for a living and manage his finances well enough, and while he would've given anything for just that sort of trivial lifestyle; fate would be the one to put him in a position he couldn't turn away from. Freya's execution loomed throughout the days, and while he owed nothing to the little bird at the moment; he wasn't apt to let a friend of his wear the noose for innocence. All in good time however. He'd just got back and hasn't officially settled in yet, no point in rushing into the game when you hadn't got all your players accounted for yet.

He traveled down an alley which led him onto a street with a burned down building, his mind fixated on what's to come in the days set ahead of him.

[Nymph]

Rharne. An eternal party. Despite the beauty that was Rharne, rising up from the sea to touch the sky, this city was a raunchy cesspool of desire, disease, drugs, and drink. At least one person was partaking in Ilaren's image every single trial. Today was no different; just the location.

The Dust Quarter was fairly quiet, having suffered a great deal of excitement not two trials earlier. The Sessfiend had ravaged the streets, leaving destruction in its wake. Several buildings had been traumatized, bricks and mortar pulled from the walls where the beast had tried to climb after its quarry. There were scorch marks in the street where the fires had touched the stone. Dried blood laid in the gutter where victims had fallen. People had steered clear from the area until the place could be cleaned up. The Priestess' had taken to investigating the area with their Lightning Knight companions. Whomever had let a Sessfiend into their city would be held accountable.

The area of the burned mirror shop had taken the most damage. The stairwell remained with two corns still standing, blacked from the fire that had engulfed the rest of the building. Crisp, wooden beams lay crisscrossed on the ground. The wooden floor was dazzling, melted mirror stuck in the place where it had seared itself into the wood. In the right light, it was a dazzling spectacle. An appropriate grave for the one that had fallen at this site.

There was a particular area of the floor where the mirror was covered in black goo that had boiled and stained the floor. Whatever had been centered in this pile had been removed, burned clean and whispered away by the wind. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. A sharp shard of glass with the same black goo sat free, having been kicked away from the flames.

A small girl stood in the middle of the burnt room. She was dirty, her dress torn in several sections. One sleeve was barely on her arm, having been pulled from the seam until it was almost clean off. The skirt was ripped on the right side from the knee to her waist. She stood on the glitter floor with bare feet, a red rubber ball in one of her grubby hands. The other hand went to her face to wipe away tears that had formed. Was she feeling sadness, fear, or anger? A mix of all these emotions perhaps? Without warning she let out a wail, opening her mouth wide as she cried with gusto.

"Doggy where are you?!"

[Patrick]

It felt difficult to imagine that so much had changed, that so much could change within a matter of two seasons. The time spent away from Rharne left Patrick blinded with nostalgia really, often did he remember what used to be; and then compare it towards what existed now anyways. Dust Town looked to had been hit with something catastrophic to say the least, hardly any of the knights or priests seemed inclined to share what though.

The people talked well enough about something monstrous, a fearsome creature that hid among the people as far as he could tell. Such a thing sounded like another folktale or urban myth, but with the alleged 'proof' of its existence before him; Patrick could at least determine such a creature might exist. The way this burned down house looked made somewhat of a definite impression, but still Patrick remained skeptical of such a vicious creature being alive; much less existing in this part of the town anyways.

As he stopped his stroll to take in the sight however he noticed something, the appearance of a little girl within the building gave him pause for questioning. She looked the part of being one of the poor folk that lived in this part of town, a familiar aspect of the past reminded him of how difficult life here could be. To him it was just a poor and lonesome child likely without anyone to care for her, and while he could've easily moved on and pretend to see nothing; his own heart actually felt pity for her well enough.

Thus he decided to approach and see if he could help her out, starting with the idea of asking about this dog that she seemed to be searching for. "Hey," He called out to her with a gentle tone, "What'cha doin' out here? Lookin' fer a lost pup somewhere?" Patrick inquired as he approached the girl with the tattered dress, a soft groan made as he knelt down to be eye level with her when he drew close to her presence. "Maybe I can help ya find him." He offered with a sense of friendship, as well as a curious look upon the girl.

[Nymph]

The girl nodded, snot running down her face where her tears had manifested in her nose. Again she wiped her face, the tears and mucous smeared across her arm. She held out the rubber ball to him, sniffling and sucking hard. "Puppy. Playing ball. It chased someone here. A rat with a rose," the girl stated. Her words were broken and made little sense. She blinked away fresh tears, staring at Patrick. Despite all the dirt and the puffiness of her eyes, he would notice their color. The danced a red-orange; like fire. A peculiar site for a suspected human child.

"It ran over here," The girl said, allowing him to take the ball. If he didn't, she would drop it, preoccupied with the next thought. She stumbled over the the black area on the floor. There she knelt, placing her palms into the goo. She smeared it over the floor, lifting her hands up to reveal the sticky substance between her fingers. "The rat attacked it."

The girl wanted to draw him in deeper. He was nothing more than an innocent bystander. A simple strand in the weave of life. The further she managed to pull on him, the more tied up in this convoluted story he would be. The girl motioned to him, placing her hands back into the goo. She lowered herself so she could look over various beams. "Puppy. Puppy are you hurt?"

The way she crawled to one of the beams was strange. One hand, opposite foot, other hand, other foot. It was an inefficient way to move as it was slow, but it allowed her to keep herself low to the ground. If she could just locate her dog. Again she stopped, righting herself until she was on her knees. "Please mister," she sniffed, "help me find her."

[Patrick]

Her brokered sentences left him to connect the dots at a whim, from what he gathered the girl and her dog played here. Then something happened to where... a rat with a rose? She mentioned it being someone, but Patrick honestly hadn't the slightest idea who this 'rat' could be. What made this an even stranger situation was her eyes, most little girls who cried would have puffy red eyes. This one however had vibrant red eyes that could've demeaned even the most heartless of brigands, usually such signs against normalcy spelled an omen lurking about.

Did Patrick want to turn back and leave her behind? Fates didn't even know how badly he wanted to. However he'd ignored that sense of fear about him, gave the uncertainty of this girl a benefit of doubt before anything else. With the ball dropped into his hands Patrick looked down at the object, his brows furrowed in contemplation as he looked from it to the girl once more. So far she seemed innocent enough, maybe what he saw about her was just an abnormality? Stranger things have been discovered in this world after all, whose to say she wasn't just a simple ordinary girl; with innocently hellish eyes that could pierce a man's soul.

"That's no good, is it?" He tried to muse as he looked from the substance on her hands to the beams in front of them. Had something happened create an unpleasant demise for the pup? They'd have their answer soon or so he guessed, right now he had to use his upper body strength to lift the beams. It took a few tries and with several groaned pulls the wood creaked loudly, and clanged on the floor when he let them drop to reveal what was underneath. A doorway beneath the floor. Had the mutt ran off to the basement after this rat?

"Well this changes things." He muttered as he looked from the basement door to the girl, unaware of what this little thing truly schemed as he approached to look down within. A few whistles took place to see if this dog of her's would respond, as he didn't want to just blatantly stumble on down without knowing whether or not it was there.

[Nymph]

The man was very strong, able to lift some of the beams away. The pile of burnt wood got smaller and smaller before her very eyes as she sat there, watching him lift and push. Finally, the hatch to the doorway beneath was revealed. With wide eyes, she crawled forward in that spider fashion of hers until she was at the edge of the hatch. She pulled on the iron ring until the door tipped open, making a loud noise as it disturbed the ash on the floor. The fiery-eyed girl leaned over, staring into the blackness. His whistles bounced around the cellar. Both waited for the animal to respond.

Awooo?

It was soft and distant, but enough for the girl to bounce up into a kneeling position. "You found her! You found her! Let's go!" Without warning, the girl placed her head on the dirty floor in front of the hatch and tumbled forward. Her fingers clung to the edge as she hung there. She gave Patrick a smile before releasing her grip, dropping into the darkness.

If he chose to follow, Patrick would descend into complete darkness. Initially, he might find a candle and matches near the ladder. Clearly someone wanted to see what they were stepping into when they were going into creepy cellars. The beam of light from the entrance would be helpful in find it. Once the candle was lit, the room would be easier to see. This room appeared to be a storage area for the extra mirrors that were not in the store's showroom. There were tall ones and fat ones; square ones and round ones. Some hung on the wall while others were free standing. The room was packed with them. Intermittently, crates would break the flow of large mirrors. Inside the crates, straw padded small hand mirrors and pocket mirrors. This room was a funhouse.

"Mister, come look!" The girl called out. She was dancing and angling herself in front of a full-body mirror. It had been cracked by some dislodged debris. The girl made faces and made herself look like she had multiple eyes. They stared back at her like a spider might, blinking together. "Isn't this fun?"

As he got closer, she would shy away from him, moving to dance in front of another mirror. Eventually, she would disappear behind some crates. Supposedly she was looking for her dog; then again, there were always other plots afoot. She had stepped behind one step of crates from the left just before a tall, beautiful woman stepped from the same set of crates from the right.

"What are you doing here?"

[Patrick]

Initially he didn't want to but he mustered the courage to climb down into the darkness, his eyes squinted as he tried to see. Once he found the candle and matches there came a period reprieve for him, where the vast darkness before him lessened to reveal where he walked. The area he'd descended to appeared to be a storage area for mirrors, now a mere showroom for the little girl he followed to have fun and play within.

The pup still had to be down here somewhere did it not? He recalled faintly hearing it earlier, thus while he walked along in following the girl, he often glanced between the mirrors around. Many times he caught his reflection and found a question with it, like whether or not this had to be real or just a dark dream he floundered within. No. He recalled being wide awake before he arrived here, as well as aware of the fact he'd walked into Dust Town in the process.

Here? In this place? He was definitely alone and that put hi on edge, because who would honestly know what happened to him, if anybody even noticed the fact he'd disappeared. The girl came across as strange but adorable in her playful demeanor, the appearance of her fiery eyes definitely unnerved Patrick when he saw the shattered reflection. Shortly afterwards she hurried along to move ahead, and while he strolled along at his own pace, that soon ended when another entered his line of sight.

A woman. Here. She was definitely cute to look at, though Patrick was never shy about making such observations. "What?" He muttered when she questioned him, his expression signified being lost and confused. Where did she come from anyways? And where did this little girl come from? "Well I was helpin' a lil' girl find her pup, but now I see she's got all the help she needs." Patrick reasoned with a forced smile, unsure what this woman might intend. Somehow the hairs on his neck stood end, and that wasn't a good sign to notice under any circumstance.

"So I guess I'll just... be on my way?" He suggested as though the option existed, perhaps it did but there was no guarantee that this woman was alone.

[Nymph]

The woman stood with significantly more confidence than the girl he had been working with. She was also cleaner. The woman was tall, but not taller than Patrick, and thin. Her figure was covered in silk which flowed gently down her body. The slit of her dress was on the left, from the hem up to thigh just below it would reveal anything. Loose, blond curls were draped over her shoulder and in a way that covered up one of her eyes. This would keep people guessing whether her hidden eye matched her revealed eye; fiery red-orange with a hint of gold. Her black heels clicked as she glided up to him with a sway of her hips.

"You don't have to leave. I know that my sister tricked you into helping her find her stupid dog," the woman purred, her voice as smooth as the silk she wore. "You see, she is delusional. Her puppy is not coming back. It died in the fire that took the building above us. She wanted me to look for it too; she tricked me in coming here. The hatch was not held down by burnt wood. She was so angry when I came down here and told her her puppy was not here that she pushed the wood on top of the hatch."

By now, she was practically close enough for her curvy front to press against his body. Of course, he could move as she pleased, but like a serpent, she would simply alter her path to make sure she was in front at all times. Eventually she let up, placing her arms beneath her chest to make them a little plumper. Anything to get him to notice her perfect form. "You are a kind man. You have come this far. I know something you can do for my sister, if you are interested."

[Patrick]

While he wasn't sure what he should be expecting as of now, Patrick couldn't deny himself the fulfillment of seeing the beauty up close. Indeed he did try to remain coy and innocent about being near her, but truth be told she made it very difficult to refrain from admiring her features. "Really? Well that's not very nice o' her." He remarked when she mentioned he was tricked as well.

"Poor girl's just missin' her friend is all." He reasoned between soft pants as he failed to realize how intrigued he'd become, somehow the blonde maiden before him made it really difficult to look away. He could feel her pressed against his body now, her humanly features just ever so tantalizingly presented there in a fashion that aroused him. When she mentioned him being kind he couldn't help but scoff, but the suggestion that he could do something changed his mind. The sister could be off having her own fun for all he cared, Patrick wanted to do something for the blonde before him now.

Or rather something with the blonde. "I see then," He mused as he raised his hands slightly, "ya know I'd rather be doin' somethin' for yer self. Pretty thing like you shouldn't be left all alone in a place like this." Patrick reasoned as he leaned in just a little, his hands brought up to hold her head in a romantic approach. He'd never really met anybody with eyes like this woman, but for whatever reason he now wanted to do nothing more than spend an evening with her.

[Nymph]

Hook. Line. Sinker. This fish was caught.

She leaned into his hand, allowing him to run a finger through her hair to press at her temple. She was starting to act bashful, nervously giggling as she lowered her gaze. Why would an attractive man pay such attention to her? The curves, the hair, the full lips; they all help in stirring the male's second brain. Every man's attention could be averted when something else was thinking for them instead of their brain. Her fingers started at his elbow, tracing up his muscle lines until she wrapped them gently around his wrist. "Let me help you relax."

She turned slowly, placing meaning behind the sway of her hips to draw his eyes down. His hand was wrapped up in hers, the thought of her 'sister' forgotten. For now. She guided him to the center of the room where a crate sat idly. She walked around it until he was facing one of the mirrors. Letting go of his hand, she reached up to apply some pressure to his shoulders. A signal for him to take a seat facing the mirror. She remained standing. With similar skill in manipulation of the man's feelings, she leaned forward to press herself around his neck. Her hands started first at his temples, pressing and kneading as it his head were a balloon. Too much pressure and it would pop, not enough, she wasn't even making a dent. Slowly she moved down to behind his ears and onto his neck, moving up and down to reduce the tension in his neck. As her hands moved down to his shoulder and pectoral muscles, she moved her head until her bare cheek was touching his. She looked into the mirror, as if seeing something he wasn't.

"You are handsome. Why would a man like you take such interest in a girl life me? I am ugly," her words were sincere. Was she talking about her physical appearance, or her soul? "Are you so broken that you would turn to a stranger for comfort?"

Knowing this city, she doubted that he would turn to strangers for comfort. Instead, she anticipated that strangers came to him for comfort, solace, and physical closeness. Curling her fingers, she used her almond shaped fingernails to draw swirls in his shirt. Soon, she was back to his shoulders working with her palms to help him relax. "Tell me Patrick, what do you see?"

She wanted him to be honest; to look into the mirror and see beyond the surface that was reflected. She saw so much more, and soon, he would to.