shedding blood and gold

[04:44] Distracted. A hand at her throat. Or, well, a burn at her throat. She was burnt like someone had wrapped her slender neck in a collar of flames.

Lotlhuitl's vision was slightly restricted, with the mask that she wore. And so perhaps that was why the tall Nagual woman had sauntered up to the potion seller and conducted her business without batting an eyelid at the nine-foot-tall armoured figure.

It wasn't until she turned -- jewelry subtly jingling -- that she realised that Brazha was not, in fact, some strange metal-clad statue.

The Nagual slooooowly looked up.

Her tail twitched. At six feet in height, she was by no means a short woman. But this figure dwarfed her.

"Ah," she exhaled. Lightly surprised. "We've not met."

Her face was entirely obscured - save for her emerald green eyes - but not her identity, that is, if one knew who she was in the first place..
(Lotlhuitl)
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[04:52] Mamoru Kouki says, "Hello"
[04:55] It could be excused, really. Even at Brazha's immense size, so clearly dwarfing any human, well. .
There's a degree of stillness, of patience to the gigantic figure's presence. Currently mostly sedentary and still, watching over wares through the cross-visor of their soot blackened helm, perhaps Lotlhuitl is rather excusable by mistaking them for a statue.

If not for the gentle motion of their furred cloak and the dim embers that dance over plate, that is.

And those embers do indeed stir as the great giant turns, shook from their dancing and disturbed from the deeper recesses of fabric and leather, cascading to the floor below. Slowly but surely, with all the speed and grace of a glacier, Brazha repositions to gaze down
down
down upon the Nagual now before them.

But even then, there's no response. Not for a handful more moments of ominous silence and gradual contemplation, naught visible behind that helm in the darkness save for a brief glimmer of gold.

Eventually, though, ponderous thoughts find themselves vocalised in a deep rumble, patient and earthen.

"Blood or gold."

One great hand rises, gesturing a metal-plated finger westwards towards another merchant.

"We have not. Met. But my treasures. Have been here plenty."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[05:10] The lightly charred, lightly blood splattered mask the Nagual wore hid a multitude of things. It hid the perspiration which rose to her brow as her gaze caught the shifting embers. It hid the slight downwards twitch into a frown. It even partially hid the ashen grey hint to the woman's normally rich complexion; though, with how exposed her flesh was elsewhere, and the general lack of depth to her skincolour, one could've surmised that the Nagual wasn't looking too rosy.

What it didn't hide was her eyes. And Lotlhuitl's gaze was entirely focused on the tall, plate-wearing warrior. Her eyes perceptibly widened.

"Blood or gold?" Lotlhuitl repeated, "I'm unsure if I understand the question."

Her tail twitched at the mention of treasures. Either unwilling or unable to stop her staring, the Nagual attempted an answer. "I like both."

Though, she found her gaze following Brazha's hand as he pointed westward.

"...a trader, then?"

A hand resting at her hip, she tapped her own gauntlet-clad-fingers against her belt. Tap tap tap. Shifting her weight, there was the subtle sound of metal jostling against metal. Jingling. She wore a lot of jewellery. More than armour, really.

"I am Lotlhuitl, of the Cruxati."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[05:22] Just as slowly as it had risen, the gesturing arm once more descends, now only to rest idly upon the hilt at their waste instead-
Whilst the axe slung across Brazha's back remains quite impressively huge, clearly built for them instead of a human, the weapon that is graced with touch is something far more subtle indeed. A single blade clearly made for someone of human size, Izhurian instead of a mighty axe. Half hidden by the cloak and a mere toothpick in comparison, it's quite the subtle thing.

Thankfully, the grasp seems to be one out of idle habit, not hostility.

But despite the lack of hostility, there's something clearly. . off about that out-of-sight gaze, something intense and ominous. Even the pause that precedes every bout of speech from the colossus seems slower, lengthier.

"You are a Nagual. Covered in. Such trinkets. Another one. I do not object."

That great, inhumanly large helm tilts ever so slightly.

"A trader. In some ways. But not myself.
I am Brazha Earthcleaver. First Champion of Great Garjling. To set foot on these lands. I stand steward. Over the lands where we Vanirhallans landed."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[05:32] Lotlhuitl had felt uneasy from the moment she'd realised embers rolled from the giant's form -- so, immediately on being aware of his presence. In fact, as Brazha's helm tilted, the Nagual's gaze shifted (finally breaking her stare) to flick over the shifting, dancing embers.

Without thought, she subtly shifted a hand to rub at the burns at her neck. If one cared to inspect the Nagual's injury, the burns were more like what one would expect from a brand than some mere stray flames. One may have got the idea that the injury had been inflicted upon the Nagual deliberately.

You are a Nagual. Lotlhuitl's dark eyelashes had fluttered at that. The mask hid the arch of her brow.

"Another one?" She repeated. "You do not object to what?"

It took her a brief moment, but his name obviously meant something to her. That, and the brief mention of his homeland.

"Ah, Vanirhalla." She repeated again. Her tone shifting to obvious interest. "Oh, are you a companion of Erling's?"
(Lotlhuitl)
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[05:41] "Betrayers. Snakes. Thieves."

Quite unlike every word spoken prior, the slowness behind that armour seems to fade in the face of a more sharply reactive response- indeed the slow patience in that earthen voice finds itself halfway-replaced by a deep, displeased rumbling, the rumbling of an earthquake given vocal form.

Instinctively, the grip of that huge hand tightens around its rest upon the half-hidden katana.

"Erling. Is the only one. That hasn't taken from me.
In my knowledge."

A breath deep enough to cause the chest plate of the colossus' soot-blackened armour shudders free, shoulders rising in tension, less slumped now.

"They are not. My companions."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[05:41] Demetrius asks, "Here a good place to eat, love?"
[05:41] Demetrius asks, "Or would you rather go home?"
[05:41] Sarmie says, "Here is fine.."
[05:41] Demetrius Sets sarmie on a stool before sitting himself, content just to watch.
(Demetrius)
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[05:44] Sarmie scoots around on the stool, getting herself comfortable. She sets the plate of salmon down in front of her and lets it rest there a moment.

"Quite a gathering indeed... though it hasn't seemed unusual for here, seems to be a rather popular location to be."
(Sarmie)
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[05:45] Zoldak says, "True. I imagine it'll get even more popular once we expand Thalassia some more."
[05:47] Tragedy squints unhappily at all the ppl who decided to sit around her.
(Tragedy)
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[05:48] Demetrius is having a tender moment here! He turns slightly towards Zoldak. "I just can't wait to get back to work."
(Demetrius)
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[05:51] Zoldak pulls a leather bound ledger out of his pack, and flips through the pages for a bit. He stops on one page, and reads through it for a bit, his finger on the page following the words as he does. He speaks without looking up.

"Ah, Sarmie, by the way. We're planning a trade mission. Not any time soon, still need... a proper port. And boats."

He stops reading and sets the ledger on the table, and looks towards Sarmie.

"One of the places we hope to open relations with is Atlantis. Obviously, we'd need someone able to actually enter. We're not talking anything too diplomatic or anything, just simply letting them know of a port being present. Would you be interested?"
(Zoldak)
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[05:53] Lotlhuitl's tail flicked out, twitching before swishing back and forth as she considered the tall, tall, massive, armoured figure's rage. Okay, so the other Vanirhallans were not his friends. Good to know.

"That Sea Snake one does not have a good reputation," Lotlhuitl offered, gaze finally dipping down to realise that Braza had gone for her sword. The Nagual, to her credit, didn't flinch.

The sane thing to do perhaps would have been to quietly excuse herself from this conversation. To just walk away from Braza Earthcleaver before her tongue and her innate desire to just trigger the jealousy of everyone around her ended up getting her torn limb from limb.

But hey. Lotlhuitl was perhaps less than sane.

"Ah," she breathed. "Not your companions, huh. You forsake them all, then? I suppose that explains why I found Erling all alone and lost and cold and starving in a cave."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[05:55] Isaiah Dawn says, "Okay. I'm better."
[05:55] Zoldak exclaims, "Good!"
[05:55] Isaiah Dawn says, "I told you. I just needed some time to myself. It's how I deal with all my issues."
[05:55] Zoldak says, "Hey, sorry to pry, even though I said I wouldn't."
[05:56] Sarmie picks up the entire salmon filet off the plate and bites into half of it completely rending the fish in a single stroke. Her teeth make easy work of completely destroying the fish and making it easy to devour.

"You know, I've never actually been to Atlantis that I can remember, maybe when I was very young but eh. Suppose if there's no one else for the job I could take a dive down when the time comes." She responds with, flopping the other half of the fish around in her hand as she likes to speak with her hands. She makes quick work of that half as well though, devouring it after she finishes speaking.
(Sarmie)
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[05:56] Isaiah Dawn asks, "A whatlis?"
[05:58] Sarmie says, "Hope your sailors know how to even find New Atlantis."
[05:58] Zoldak says, "We count a very skilled sailor among our employ. If he doesn't know there to find it, well, I'm not sure who would."
[05:59] Strilkin Durgit walks to Crafthold then asks, "Is there a Runescriber available?"
(Strilkin Durgit)
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[05:59] Demetrius leans against Sarmie, though not too heavily that he would fall off his stool or push her off her own. He smiles as she devours the fish, his ears listening on the conversation.

"Etsuko and Aziza, best to talk to about sailing that I know of."
(Demetrius)
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[05:59] Sarmie waves from the table, across to Strilkin. "Hey afro guy. It'd be Giz you'd wanna look for."
(Sarmie)
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[06:00] Isaiah Dawn says, "Gizmo is asleep."
[06:03] Strilkin Durgit looks to Sarmie then responds in like thogh with sarcasm and a smile, "Hello plushy lady, thanks for letting me know." Strilkin looks to Isaiah then nods his head understandingly as he responds in a still light, though more serious tone, "Alright. Thank you. It seems finding a Runescriber of the highest tier is a slight challenge of its own. Maybe it's a matter of coordinating. Well. Thank you all again." Strilkin Durgit makes his way to rest in the private quarters of the Great Tree Shrine.
(Strilkin Durgit)
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[06:04] Nyphadora says, "Mm."
[06:04] Brighter, ever so slightly brighter, the embers glow. From a deep, dying red to a dim and smouldering orange, all the more numerous now. They dance and swirl in a ballet over blackened metal, or burn and sizzle huddled together in the depths of dark fabrics like hidden, plotting witches covens. But it's certainly clear that the heat radiating from the giant grows more palpable.

"There are names. You should keep. Out of your mouth. In my presence. Names best spoken. When heads hang from my belt."

Perhaps for a moment, embers gather more distinctly at the hilt of that sword- no, not quite. On closer inspection, perhaps it's the heat of just that great hand alone, likely so clearly able to leave such searing handprints. .

Regardless, another deep breath lifts that breastplate, before the hulking warrior rolls their shoulders as if to relieve tension, dislodging a cloud of embers in the process.
And then, with that, their words return to lengthy pauses- albeit carrying a trace of irritation in their earthen rumble.

"Erling. Only follows his oaths. To Kark. He is not. A betrayer. Yet. He is not one. I would abandon and starve."

And finally, that helm rises to nod in Tragedy's direction, slow and subtle.
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[06:04] Strilkin Durgit says, "I'll be seeing you all. Be safe. Travel well."
[06:05] Isaiah taps his fingers on the table.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[06:05] Sarmie asks, "Something on your mind, nice guy?"
[06:05] Demetrius says, "Think Strilkie left already, love."
[06:06] Isaiah Dawn says, "Everything wrong. I feel better, but my mind is still struggling. That's all. "
[06:06] Isaiah puts on a geniune smile, regardless.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[06:06] Sarmie says, "The blonde over there is nice guy, that other guy is afro guy."
[06:06] Demetrius says, "Aaah."
[06:07] Tragedy waved over at Brazha.
(Tragedy)
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[06:09] Demetrius looks over Isaiah slowly. Sniffing in his general direction as his body began to bulk up with his inhale, rexlaxing as he exhaled. "So what's actually bothering you, Isaiah?"
(Demetrius)
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[06:11] Isaiah Dawn says, "There isn't a word for it. Not one that I know of."
[06:12] Demetrius asks, "How old are you?"
[06:12] Sarmie says, "Ah, describe it? Perhaps we can make up a new word."
[06:12] Isaiah glances up at the sky. "When you're jealous of something that doesn't actually exist." He explains.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[06:12] Demetrius says, "Ah. Still? I Thought by now you would have moved on."
[06:13] Isaiah Dawn says, "It's only been three days."
[06:14] Sarmie asks, "Hm... solicitude?"
[06:14] Demetrius says, "It's been months, Isaiah, since I told you what you should do... You didn't do it."
[06:14] Demetrius motions to the necklace that hung about his neck.
(Demetrius)
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[06:14] Isaiah Dawn says, "*Shakes his head. "I moved on from what you said a long time ago." He explained."
[06:15] Demetrius asks, "Who now? Or are you jealous of the lack completely?"
[06:18] The boy taps his hands on the table.

It was times like this he wished he was older, and more mature.

"My mind is filled with sin... But... She told me she just wasn't interested in a relationship. That things were too... Unstable right now. It'd be a distraction. That romance, any kind of it, was a distraction." He explained, shaking his head.

"That's fine. But... She still sleeps with someone else. She sleeps with bedlam. Not... Sexually or anything, but..." He glances down at the table. He places his head in his hands.

"The mind is a terrible tool, friends. Sometimes, it works with you, or for you. And sometimes... It wont let something go. It will torture you, and use your imagination to come up with things that don't actually exist." He said softly, as he sighed deeply.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[06:18] Lotlhuitl didn't like fire. It reminded her of the burn she had suffered -- and how she had suffered it. As if she could ever forget.

At the rising heat from the colossal figure before her, the Nagual took a slight half step backwards. A subtle gesture, but it was made all the same. And she hated herself for it. A moment of weakness.

Tension suddenly grew within her, evident in her willowy figure, her long limbs. The way she held her head. She was stiff, forcing herself to stand firm. Her stance was by no means natural: she was incredibly uneasy.

Unease which only increased when she followed Brazha's gaze, turning ever so slightly as Tragedy greeted him. Gave him a wave.

"Tragedy," the Nagual said, raising her hand in a greeting of her own.

Not looking at Brazha now, the Nagual had wrapped her oh-so-fluffy tail around her waist. The fur had bristled slightly, alarm at the dislodging of embers.

Still not looking at thecolossal man, Lotlhuitl had murmured (about Erling, once more): "And yet I found him all the same."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[06:22] Walking through Crafthold, Girth Shroom notices a few travelers, among them Demetrius. He's out. Girth Shroom notices a meeting of a sort happening and rests a hand on Demetrius's shoulder then says, "Welcome back." He nods to Sarmie and the others about. He adjusts. He figures he might as well introduce himself,

"I don't mean to be rude. My name is Girth Shroom. If anyone needs a Blacksmith or Runescriber, let me know. Otherwise, I'll be on my way." Girth Shroom steps comfortably near the table. Close enough for everyone.
(Girth Shroom)
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[06:22] Zoldak says, "Ah, Girth! That was a, uh, very unique concert you held. I'll be sure to attend the next one."
[06:23] Zoldak says, "As for your services... There was a man here not too long ago, seeking a runescribe."
[06:23] Zoldak says, "I believe he headed towards Ardent."
[06:23] Sarmie says, "Afraid I've yet to see one... We should do a duet sometime Shroom guy, and as for runescribers afro guy was- yes what uh... edgy guy said. He's probably in his shrine just across the bridge."
[06:24] Girth Shroom says, "Thank you Zoldak! The next concert, the third leg of my tour, will be in Ardent. I'm so glad you came by. "
[06:24] Zoldak asks, "I'm not edgy... Am I?"
[06:24] Sarmie asks, "Shooty guy?"
[06:24] Zoldak says, "That suits me better, yes."
[06:25] Girth Shroom says, "A duet? Well.. Ugh.. That's a conversation for a different place."
[06:26] Demetrius bursts into laughter, a wide smile bearing down on the boy. His body coming alight with a calming energy, holy light flowing like a burst of solar light, the briefest feeling of a summer day upon the beach. Calmness, happiness, carefree and warm.

"I tried to tell you man, you needed to give her space, you were falling for the idea of what she could be. Trust me, I know, I had the same desire towards Osha for the longest of times. Took.. quite a lot to get me out of that rut I was in. Sarmie here? She understands me so much more than Osha ever could to the point I don't even know what I saw in Osha."

The man looks at the hand on him, Shroom-boy? At this hour? "Uh. Thanks. Yeah, Strilkin is looking for a runescribe, and I need a new weapon soon." His gaze returns to Isaiah.

"What you need, my friend, is to start opening your heart to others, maybe have yourself a uhh.. Casual encounter or two. Preferably the former, the opening your heart bit. If you're anything like me, where physical things are only to sate the physical need, then it won't help you forget. Don't hold onto something you don't know if you'll ever have."
(Demetrius)
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[06:26] "There is very little. That I don't see. When it happens before me."

Strange words, perhaps spoken in a gravely ominous tone- words that prove to be in parting, no less. One last glance is offered towards the Nagual- lower than her face, but whether at her or her garb is left hidden by that visor -before the hulking warrior steps forth. As slow and ponderous as a glacier, but covering remarkable distance thanks to the sheer length of their stride, Brazha begins to lumber westwards.

The great heat rolling from them passes by those at the table, before the gigantic figure comes to a stop somewhere on Tragedy's side of the group, helm turned down
down
so goddamn far down to regard the Archon.

Perhaps, subtly, the heat lessens.

"It has been some time. Tragedy of Gaiar Aetherius. Are you. Keeping well?"

Another long pause follows, before speech rumbles forth once more.

"Impressive. On the beach."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[06:28] Girth Shroom says, "'Fro guy. Strilkin. Hrm. Well. I'll check on matters in Ardent then. See you later gals and folks."
[06:29] He raises an eyebrow at the man across the table, before shaking his hands and his hands. At once.

"Thanks, friend. But...I'd rather take advice from someone who's a little more stable in terms of a relationship. No offense... But..." He looked around.

"You're a little... Open." He explained. "I'd rather advice from someone who is in a more commited, one on one relationship."
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[06:30] Demetrius chuckles again.

"You'll get the same advice."
(Demetrius)
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[06:30] Sarmie says, "Have you attempted offering a plethora of gifts? Is it Osha that he has eyes for? I would suggest dirt and rocks."
[06:30] Zoldak asks, "Oh! Do you mean the port fort is impressive, my heavily armored and intimidating friend?"
[06:30] Demetrius says, "No, he likes Gizmo."
[06:32] Sarmie says, "Oh. I don't know a lot about Gizmo. Perhaps offer her a lot of coin? People seem to like coin."
[06:34] Zoldak says, "I enjoy coin."
[06:34] Zoldak says, "Not to great lengths, but it has too many uses not to like it."
[06:34] Sarmie says, "There you go. I am sure shooty guy would gladly be your romantic partner in exchange for coin. Issue resolved."
[06:34] 'There is very little. That I don't see. When it happens before me.'

Blink.

"What?" Lotlhuitl breathed in response to Brazha, but truthfully more to herself. The ember-shedding-giant had already lumbered away. He'd already (she liked to think) retreated to Tragedy's side. What the fuck was he talking about?

The end of Lotlhuitl's tail twitched as she stared. Once more, the mask wearing Nagual found herself abandoned on the periphery of a scene. With obvious jealousy, the willowy (and injured!) woman watched as Brazha crouched down and spoke with Tragedy.

Her fluffy blue-black ears pinned back. Oh, it fucking burnt that this massive specimen of anger just went and walked away from her and completely ignored her snarky attempts to chide him for abandoning Erling. In her heart, she knew that if she were truly strong she'd have no fear just walking up to him and saying what she had to say.

But he'd just walked up to the Archon, Tragedy. And so it was that Lotlhuitl proceeded to STARE at the two of them. Tragedy in particular. Her gaze appraising. Hurt. Angry.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[06:37] Sitting around continuing to shoot nasty glares at these damn teenagers and their babbling, she was relatively ignored until the gigantic figure specifically addressed her. Tragedy peered upwards and rubbed her eyes sleepily.

"Hellooo," she chirped, looking over to the beach as if to remind herself. A small smile graced her cherubic features.

"Ahh... well. The apprentice lacks magical focus, even if her grip on Chaos is sound. Nothing too shocking. How fares your colony?"

She caught Lotlhuitl's gaze briefly and poked her tongue out.
(Tragedy)
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[06:37] Demetrius says, "Gizmo isn't into that kind of thing. She won't be until the town is able to fend for itself. Even then, I don't think she's uhh.. one of the kinds of women who desires partnering. I think she's more like a Sirenian. "
[06:38] Isaiah Dawn says, "She seems to enjoy her solitude. She enjoys being a free spirit. We're still friends and all, and that's just fine."
[06:38] Lotlhuitl continued to STARE, her eyes widening. Tail flicking back and forth..
(Lotlhuitl)
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[06:38] Sarmie whispers something.
[06:38] Isaiah Dawn says, "But imagination does terrible things when I think about her sleeping in the same bed as another guy. This is my hell. "
[06:39] Sarmie says, "I could attempt to remove all of your memories."
[06:39] Isaiah Dawn says, "I already dealt with that once in my lifetime. "
[06:39] Demetrius says, "Mmhm. As it should be. So quit getting caught up i nwhether or not she's banging Bedlam, quit caring if he's got her pinned to the bed this very moment, sweating and grunting. She's not yours."
[06:40] Isaiah Dawn says, "I dont think I can take it twice."
[06:40] Demetrius glances to the right at the angry nagual.
(Demetrius)
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[06:40] Demetrius whispers something.
[06:40] Sarmie shakes her head.
(Sarmie)
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[06:40] Sarmie whispers something.
[06:40] Isaiah Dawn says, "You really aren't helping Demetrius."
[06:40] Isaiah Dawn says, "Really, really aren't helping."
[06:40] Demetrius looks to his left at Tragedy.
(Demetrius)
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[06:41] Zoldak says, "I don't think that's his intention, anyways."
[06:41] Sarmie says, "Why does it hold significance to you? If you are not considered worthy enough a choice for pro-creation then find another of your class."
[06:41] Sarmie says, "This is a very simple issue that you dwell upon."
[06:42] Isaiah Dawn says, "... You two were made for eachother."
[06:42] Demetrius says, "It really is. If you're so frustrated over the thoughts of sex, go have sex."
[06:42] Isaiah leans back in his chair, sighing.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[06:42] Demetrius says, "If you need attachment for it, go find attachment"
[06:42] Isaiah Dawn whispers something.
[06:42] Demetrius says, "Stop obcessing over Gizmo."
[06:42] Demetrius says, "Trust me, I know obcession."
[06:42] Zoldak whispers something.
[06:43] Demetrius says, "OBcession? Obsession? "
[06:43] Isaiah Dawn whispers something.
[06:43] Demetrius says, "Extreme grabby grabby mine mine."
[06:43] Isaiah Dawn whispers something.
[06:44] Zoldak whispers something.
[06:44] Isaiah Dawn whispers something.
[06:44] Sarmie sets up from her stool. She looks to Isaiah, and moves her head off and to the side, in a come hither way expecting him to follow.
(Sarmie)
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[06:45] Zoldak whispers something.
[06:45] Whereas Lotlhuitl's stare remains painfully obvious, and Tragedy outright sticks her tongue out, well. . It's hard to even tell if the colossus even registers any of that hurt. Hard to tell just how much reaches through that solid plate in general, in fact.
But given their words, it's probably more than could be obvious. Solid metal hides away that gaze and whatever expression goes along with it, making reactions quite awfully hard to place.

"An apprentice. . Many from the homeland. Had them. Crafters. Gatherers. No point for me. I have. No want to teach. I only follow the way. Of Great Garjling.
They must be worth. Plenty to you. To bother with teaching, instead of taking."

Another pause follows, the warrior mostly falling into stillness once more.

"The colony. Fares well. Those under me. Work tirelessly. Bring in money. I have to work. Increasingly less. To become. A greater me.
They shine. Like treasures.

They even have. A presence here and in Gaiar. As ordered. Bringing me trade. Bringing me worth. From these lands."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[06:46] Isaiah taps a finger on the table.

He had no idea what she had in mind. A better person, more right of mind and someone who could say no to someone asking of them, would probably ask what this was for, or say no in general.

Isaiah was not a better person. He was still kind of a push over. Even if he tried to fix it. So he stood up, walking over to her, and followed her, curious as to what the female wanted.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[06:47] Demetrius wags his tail slowly, once more leaning on the table instead of on the missing sirenian.
(Demetrius)
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[06:48] Zoldak shrugs and resumes sifting through his ledger once more.
(Zoldak)
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[06:54] Demetrius stretches his legs under the table. "I could go for some Vodka."
(Demetrius)
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[07:00] Lotlhuitl continued to eavesdrop on Tragedy and Brazha, her expression shifting between anger and desperation and jealousy in succession. The mask did a good job of hiding it, but there was something in the Nagual's eyes.. something in the way her hands clenched. Something in the tension in her shoulders.

"Oh."

Suddenly, something made sense! Lotlhuitl clicked her fingers. Amusement flickering to her face. Mostly hidden by the mask, but it practically shone in her eyes. In the way that she relaxed, at least momentarily, until she moved in a way that caused the collar-like burn to pained her.

Her breathing deepened, her fingertips at her neck as she continued to stare at Tragedy and Brazha. Water suddenly flowed over the wound. Easing her agony.

"I know you, now. You're the slaver." The words were spoken to herself, about Brazha. Her tone wasn't judgmental, or harsh. It was spoken like a fact that she'd just wanted to state aloud. She wasn't anywhere near Tragedy, or the colossus, but still. It was like a piece of the puzzle had just slotted itself into Lotlhuitl's mental map of the area.

At just like that, her envy which had been increasingly directed towards the giant almost completely dissipated. Not completely -- the man likely could still tear her limb from limb, and she didn't like having to acknowledge the reality of her own weakness. But still.

With a distinct swagger in her step, Lotlhuitl decided that, fuck it, she would approach Tragedy too.

"Greetings, Tragedy."

That said, she leant up against the fence, looking down at her hands with (perhaps obvious) practiced disinterest.

"Oh, I think I ran into three of yours, Brazha, on my way here."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[07:03] Zoldak perks up upon hearing mention of Brazha's name. He looks up from his numbers and notes on market predictions to observe the imposing figure. He mumbles to himself.

"Ah... That must be the Brazha which Anta spoke of. Certainly looks like a Vanirhallan..."
(Zoldak)
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[07:03] Demetrius says, "She is strong, that's for sure."
[07:03] Zoldak says, "I wish I could ever catch the people I wish to discuss business with not in the middle of... ah... drama is the only word I can think of for it."
[07:04] "Helloo," she replied to Lotlhuitl, nodding sleepily. She didn't seem inclined to follow up with any commentary about Kayeliun, leaning back to stretch briefly.

"If everything is going well. Then so be it. There were some people complaining about rogue elements a while ago. Not really my concern. Let me know if you need something."
(Tragedy)
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[07:04] Demetrius says, "Well, now that Askiladd is in Ardent, that Drama should dissipate. THough he was imprisoned, they gave him a slap on the wrist and set him free."
[07:05] Demetrius says, "Probably only a matter of time before he triest to kill Anta again."
[07:05] Sarmie takes a seat back next to Demetrius.
(Sarmie)
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[07:05] Demetrius leans against Sarmie once more.
(Demetrius)
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[07:05] Zoldak says, "That... would be quite undesirable for me."
[07:09] Demetrius says, "For anyone, really. Bad enough he cut of my tail and ripped her jaw of, cut out her tongue.. Cost me a fuck ton of money and favors to get her a golden prosthetic tongue.."
[07:10] Despite the varying ongoing commentary, the colossus shows little regard for it, nor any real indication that it's even heard- perhaps it's a matter of sheer single mindedness, given the giant's rather slow, contemplative nature in general.
Or perhaps they're just trying to conduct whatever thoughts may drift behind that helm like lazy summer gnats without any grand distraction.

Subtly, though, that grip tightens upon the mismatched blade at their waist.

"A few words. In a quieter space. Might not be amiss."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[07:11] Sarmie says, "Well... I missed an exciting conversation it seems."
[07:12] Demetrius says, "It's fine, love. I missed it too, because I haven't got a clue or a care their business."
[07:12] Lotlhuitl narrowed her eyes, thinking Brazha was attempting to monopolise Tragedy's time. In truth, she had little desperate reason to want to speak with the Archon, but whatever Brazha had she WANTED.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[07:12] Tragedy says, "Mm."
[07:13] Zoldak exclaims, "The beach is as good a place as any if things might get heated. Just try not to damage the bridge if they do. It's brand new!"
[07:13] Lotlhuitl asks, "... bridge?"
[07:13] Sarmie says, "There's also a lovely empty field just to the west of the buildings."
[07:14] Lotlhuitl had not seen the beach yet..
(Lotlhuitl)
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[07:14] Demetrius says, "I think they mean actual conversation though."
[07:14] Zoldak asks, "Who knows when it comes to power players like them?"
[07:14] Demetrius says, "I can smell it."
[07:14] Lotlhuitl says, "..."
[07:14] Demetrius says, "I know Brazha's scent. She's mad, but not at Tragedy."
[07:14] Lotlhuitl says, "... excuse me"
[07:15] Lotlhuitl whispers: I am standing right here. As is Tragedy. As is Brazha.
[07:15] Lotlhuitl whispers: Maybe wait until we're out of earshot before you try snarking me.
[07:15] Demetrius turns slowly.
(Demetrius)
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[07:16] Demetrius then simply turns back around.
(Demetrius)
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[07:17] "Are all. Of them like this?"

A low grunt rumbles from the depths of the colossus, helmed head shaking ever so slightly. It's slow and subtle, but very much there.
Maintaining some degree of distance even from the Archon for the time being, Brazha turns their gaze east and west.

And then, with little warning, grand strides carry them off in search of, well, anywhere quiet!
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[07:19] Brazha Earthcleaver says, "One of these. Buildings. Must be suitable. Comfortable."
[07:22] Lotlhuitl entered, looking distinctly frazzled. Almost like she'd fallen into a pit trap. Unharmed, but annoyed, she caught up with Tragedy and Brazha..
(Lotlhuitl)
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[07:26] After. . undoubtedly some effort finding somewhere comfortable, Brazha trundles inside- likely having to duck through the doorway -after the diminutive Archon.
However, the giant warrior's desire for comfort doesn't seem to be for their own sake, as it only takes a mere glance at the flimsy, human-sized chairs to disregard them entirely.

Breaking and entering? Not Brazha's home, not Brazha's business.

Instead, Brazha merely idly kicks the chair out of the way, rolling those broad shoulders before glancing between the two.
In that moment, perhaps Brazha lingers closer to Tragedy- and for a moment, perhaps the Archon can more easily feel the presence of something occultic and chaotic, something familiar and not from the cyclops themselves. But it's. . Somewhat restrained, like a muffled voice.

But then, Brazha comes to stand where the chair once was.

"If I knew. You would be here. I would have brought. Food."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[07:28] The Archon did not give a darn about borrowing somebodies empty house for a meeting, it wasn't like they were doing any harm. She settled down on the chair, not looking surprised to have Lotlhuitl there for whatever reason, and leaned back.

"No need for food," she muttered. Anything sensed between either of the visitors was kept to herself. "What do you need to discuss?" the girl said curtly.

She looked sleepy, but that wasn't anything new.
(Tragedy)
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[07:34] Yeah, it was about a good thirty seconds into Brazha and Tragedy's talk that Lotlhuitl realised she had little reason to be here, other than the fact that she'd been spurn on in a pique of fierce jealousy.

Ah, oh well. She was here now, and definitely glad for her mask. She hoped it hid the momentary lack of confidence she'd experienced.

The Nagual stood by a wall partition, ears pricked forward. She wasn't going to leave now. So what if she hadn't had a good reason for following! She could make something up.

"I wouldn't say I so much a need to discuss something as I had a bemusing anecdote I wanted to share, Tragedy." Lotlhuitl said, never looking away from the giant.

Tail unwrapping from her waist, the woman took steps away from the wall. Shifting to lean against a chair, folded arms resting against the back as she paused, tilting her head.

What was the anecdote about? Lotlhuitl's body language was entirely smug. "About Brazha's men."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[07:44] Slowly but surely, both of the colossus' great hands rise to alight upon that helm, gradually lifting it- but without any real sense of reverence. Not some grand reveal, not something at all important to Brazha, that much is clear enough.

Great braids of Nordic red hair fall free upon the furs of her mantle, as cared for as one would expect from her kin's real life analogue, well treated despite initial appearances. Great, strong features and skin as pale as the snow of her homeland comprise her face, half-blackened by soot just as her armour is.
But above it all, two oddities stand out- a single huge eye, quite concerningly sharp and aware despite the giant's apparent slowness, crystal clear blue, but with a glimmer of gold swimming within, akin to a golden coin catching the sunlight at the bottom of tropical shallows.

Certainly, that glimmer hadn't been there the last time Tragedy had seen that eye- nor were the duo of horns that now crest the cyclopes' upper forehead, pointed but small and nubby, a slate grey and with the visual texture of actual stone.

Even her facial features aren't something to show much attention, as little shows when that great eye regards Lotlhuitl.

"Unless you are ready. To give me tribute. Repayment. As you continue to waste my time. Willing. To drop that jewellery. And go home bare. Then I want nothing to do. With your continued theft of my time."

Cold. Blunt. But with the calm patience of the earth.
And then the eye turns back towards Tragedy.

"I hadn't expected to meet you here. Intended to head north. To talk to you. And the rest of Gaiar's leadership.
I heard. The ones who were once my kin. Were causing yours trouble."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[07:44] Brazha Earthcleaver says, "My kin no longer. Still a thorn in my side. If there is business here. It is discussing. A solution."
[07:49] "Mmm."

Whether at Brazha's commentary or her own private joke, the Archons lips trailed up in amusement. She looked over to Lotlhuitl. "You can tell me later. I doubt this will take long."

Whatever had happened to Brazha, it was not something she recognized. Humans did have a habit of trying to emulate her demon horns, but these didn't look like they were sculpted. She pursed her lips.

"You should talk to Zaruma about them, yes. I can just kill any that manage to bumble over here, given names and descriptions."
(Tragedy)
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[07:57] The mask hid Lotlhuitl's face.

By the look in her eyes, Lotlhuitl had been surprised by Brazha's response to her. Her pupils dilated to the point where all the available light in the room was reflecting off her eyes, in this strange green sheen. Almost like her gaze was glowing.

"..ng," Lotlhuitl winced.

A stray spark of electricity rolled across Lotlhuitl's willowy form as Brazha spoke. The woman had stiffened once more. Not with fear, no. But outrage. Her anger ran hot, and for a second she imagined herself launching herself over the table and burning Brazha's face off. Her hands clenched and unclenched. An audible exhale passed her lips, mmuffled by the snarling feline mask. "You will receive no such--" Lotlhuitl began, her voice a low hiss.

But then Tragedy spoke, and the Nagual's gaze tracked to her. The corruption didn't fade, but her anger? It turned cold. Bitter.

Corruption. Like shards of glass, Lotlhuitl could feel it building up in her veins. Almost painful, the power within her threatened to tear her apart if she didn't satisfy it.

A silent incline of her head was given. A nod. Well, silent in that Lotlhuitl said nothing as she nodded, turned. But the countless articles of jewellery, the countless little trinkets, they all jostled with the movement. Metal on metal. Jingle, jingle, jingle.

And she stormed out.

Intending on waiting outside.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:00] Lotlhuitl eavedropped at the door..
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:04] Lotlhuitl says, "Nothing to see here, kid."
[08:04] Isaiah Dawn asks, "What are you doing at Tez's house, exactly?"
[08:04] Lotlhuitl says, "... uh..."
[08:05] Lotlhuitl says, "Crafthold is a vassal of Gaiar."
[08:05] Isaiah Dawn says, "And..."
[08:05] Lotlhuitl says, "Gaiar, uh, needed his house for something."
[08:06] Isaiah Dawn asks, "Do I need to call the guards?"
[08:06] Lotlhuitl says, "It's a nice house and if 'Tez' values his health, he'll just not come home for a day or so."
[08:06] Lotlhuitl says, "... "
[08:06] Lotlhuitl squints.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:06] Isaiah Dawn asks, "You realize you're in the middle of a settlement, right?"
[08:07] Lotlhuitl asks, "What? Really??"
[08:07] Lotlhuitl looked at Isaiah, deadpan.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:07] Isaiah points to the giant castle just south east of their location.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[08:07] Isaiah Dawn says, "It'd be a shame if... Eiph found out you were... Breaking into someones house..."
[08:09] The blonde boy was going to go and fetch the guards. Lotlhuitl almost laughed.

"Would it?"

Lotlthuitl fluttered her eyelashes at Isaiah, doing her best to not look at him like she thought he was a complete idiot. Though, she really did. And she was REALLY lacking a proper poker face.

Lucky she was still wearing the mask. The snarling feline had seen better days, scorch marks and blood adorning the detailed carving work. But hey. It did mean that it was only If Isaiah looked deep into her emerald green eyes that he'd see the depth of the contempt she had for him right now.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:13] He had seen enough. Despite her mask, he knew who she was. At least, her face- He'd seen her earlier... Holding that very same mask in her hand. He sighed.

(Isaiah Dawn)
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[08:13] Isaiah Dawn says, "Just tell me what you're doing in there."
[08:13] Isaiah Dawn says, "Dont make this into a scene."
[08:13] Lotlhuitl says, "It's none of your business."
[08:13] Isaiah Dawn says, "As the guard of this settlement, it REALLY kind of is."
[08:13] Lotlhuitl wore a mask, but it most certainly did not hide her identity.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:13] Lotlhuitl had a very distinctive... look.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:14] Lotlhuitl says, "I'm telling you, it's above your paygrade."
[08:14] Lotlhuitl says, "You don't want to know. Scram."
[08:14] Isaiah Dawn says, "If you're doing something that could potentially hurt my fellow craftsmen... Then it is."
[08:14] Lotlhuitl says, "I give you my word that I, personally, am not."
[08:15] Isaiah Dawn asks, "And the people inside?"
[08:15] Lotlhuitl says, "I definitely am doing nothing which will harm the people inside."
[08:15] Isaiah Dawn says, "Thats not what I mean and you know it."
[08:15] Lotlhuitl tilted her head.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:15] Lotlhuitl says, "You know.. who is inside.."
[08:16] Lotlhuitl asks, "And you still come up to me and waste my time?"
[08:16] Lotlhuitl says, "Tsk."
[08:16] Isaiah Dawn says, "I don't. But I know there are people inside."
[08:16] Lotlhuitl says, "..."
[08:16] Isaiah Dawn says, "Potentially, my fellow craftsmen."
[08:16] Isaiah Dawn says, "If my fellow craftsmen are inside, being hurt, then yes, I will intervene."
[08:16] Lotlhuitl says, "I'll not tell you any details about what is occuring inside this building."
[08:16] Lotlhuitl says, "Go away."
[08:17] Isaiah Dawn says, "Then I'll be reporting this to Eiphram."
[08:17] Lotlhuitl says, "Bring him."
[08:17] Lotlhuitl shrugged.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:18] Isaiah Dawn asks, "... You're a fool if you think you can stand--- NO. You know what?"
[08:19] Pulling his rifle that totally wasn't a staff off his back, he bolts the weapon back, staring dead on with the woman in front of the building.

"You will tell me if any of my fellow craftsmen are in that building. You will tell me if you are robbing or using the building for crimes. And if you do not? I will place you under arrest." He growled.

There was a serious look on his face. Despite how weak he was... His conviction was strong.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[08:29] Lotlhuitl stared at Isaiah. Her heartrate accelerated, adrenaline surging through her veins. Her tail flicked back and forth (like a viper about to strike!) for a good moment, as she regarded him. No, appraised him. There was something in the way she was looking at him that suggested that the contempt she felt had shifted into actual dislike.

A surge of corruption rolled through her body. Pain. Splinters of glass in her veins. Her breathing audibly deepened, as she found herself struggling to keep it together. And visibly so: the injured woman was trembling!

"I once had a rifle just like that," she mused, pained voice muffled by her mask. "Caesar took it from me."

Her oh-so-fluffy ears flicked backwards as she looked Isaiah up and down. And then, she took a step towards him. She plainly didn't expect him to shoot her. Her metal staff flew into her hands.

"Ihave no idea if any of your fellow craftsmen are in the building," she snapped. "Now, lower your weapon and apologise for daring to call me a criminal, and I won't drown you in the ocean for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:39] He stared at her for a moment. The rifle in his hands was held tight. It was level with her head. One wrong move and he could blow her head clean off. Was she really so foolish?

So idiotic as to stand in the path of his fire?

"..." He stared at her, as she stood up to him. Truly stood up to him. She could probably crush him like an ant, even in her injured state. Yet, even so...

He stood firm with his rifle pointing directly at her. He placed a finger on the trigger. His eyes were level with hers. The danger struck through his body... The heat of his holy magic burned...

Before slowly...

He lowered it.

It was true. He wanted dearly to protect the people close to him. And Crafthold was made of everyone that was close to him. But he wished no death upon anyone. Not even the most horrible of foes. And espeically not some random woman- Even if she was rude.

He sighed, looking down, as he shook his head.

"I just want to make sure my allies are alright. I don't... I don't really want any trouble with you. Please. Let me peak inside. I have to be sure you and your friends aren't doing something that could comprimise their safety. It's... It's everything I stand for." He said, as he stepped up to her. His rifle, however, that totally wasn't a staff, was lowered.

"It's all I have." He said simply.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[08:48] Lotlhuitl's gaze never left his face. The Nagual stood, her arms stretched out wide as she stepped closer, and closer. She watched as his finger rested on the trigger. She felt the heat from his magic.

And then slowly, he lowered the gun.

Honestly, she would have probably been impressed if he had shot her. The woman exhaled. Breath muffled by her mask.

She tilted her head. Listening as he stepped closer to her, now. "You don't want any trouble?" She repeated, tail twitching.

"No-one in the world ever gets what they want, and that is beautiful." She opened her right hand, palm facing the sky above. Her left remained clenching her staff, end placed firmly against the ground.

"For instance: I did not want to speak to you today, but look what happened." Her tone was entirely dry, entirely scathing. "And, my," she continued, "I do not think the people who are inside will want to be disturbed."

She stepped right up to him, attempting to place her right hand atop his which held his rifle.

"Is that all you have, really?"

What was this in her voice, sympathy? Pity?

"How cruel. You should want more. Don't you feel life owes you? Where is your passion? Where is your jealousy, your rage, at how poorly fate has treated you?"
(Lotlhuitl)
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[08:58] He felt it. Her corruptive energies trying penetrate his body. Penetrate his flesh, his mind. Turn him into what she wanted. He stared at her, squinting for a moment. Was she trying to get into him? Under his skin?

"Perhaps for you- Jealousy, and rage empower you. Perhaps for you- It's not enough to have your friends. To have allies, and people to look out for- And people to look out for you. But greed is not my sin." He explained, as he kept his grip on his rifle.

"I'll leave you all alone- If you tell me whois in there." He said, as he looked her over.

"Life owes me nothing. And fate? Fate is merely a war cry of those too scared to think for themselves." He explained, as he took a step back.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[09:08] He looked her over.

She was a tall woman. Beautiful. Wearing a mask. Her face was concealed, and yet her body was shockingly.. not so. She wore a lot of jewellery. A nasty burn decorated her slender neck: like someone had collared her with flames. Cruel.

"Kid, you know nothing about me." Lotlhuitl was blunt. Tail twitching as he talked about sin not being empowering. "You're boring me."

Corruption definitely glimmered about Lotlhuitl, but at the moment she really didn't direct it against him at all. But he could think he felt whatever he felt about the woman! Yeah, Lotlhuitl was disinclined to use fell powers on him, merely sass (or depending who you asked, kindness, but hey). Though, it was true that corruption ran in her veins, threatening to tear her apart..

Likely, the holy magi felt a glimmer of this cruel power. This agony which twisted within her. An agony which only increased as he spoke of friends and allies and people to look out for.

For a brief second, the Nagual's gaze had almost seemed... vulnerable.

Envy was like sticking glass under fingernails. Her own fingernails, sometimes. Sometimes other people's. But in any case, it very much was a double edged sword.

Her voice turned breathy, as her right hand attempting to pat at his own. "If I tell you, you might not like it." Lotlhuitl tilted her head, still standing oh-so-close to Isaiah. "And if you go in there and look, you might wish that you hadn't."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[09:11] A quiet stroll along the beachside turned out to be far more eventful than Sibri planned for. His approach could be heard, each long stride into the sand, and the tall Dryad had a curious look to him, watching the two with pursed lips in the distance.

He stopped by the grainy stone path, either hand folding behind his back. Silently observing.
(Sibri)
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[09:17] As the cold winds came in from the shore, the boy stood against another wall. He felt that dark energy. That corruption. He'd felt its kind before. And he still had bandages to prove it.

Regardless, he stood firm, like a bulwark against a storm. Each passing month had made him less and less of something that one walked through because there was no resistance... Into something like that of a door.

And this time was no different.

"Know nothing? ... You wear your emotions on your sleeve, more then you'd think you do." He explained. It would be criminally difficult, perhaps, for someone else to see it. But for someone like him- Who used holy energy. Whos heart beat as pure as it could... Struggling constantly against the virtues of sin and occultists around him...

He could feel the darkness that encroached upon others.

"If I don't like it? Then so be it. I'll come up with a solution soon enough." He explained, providing once again that iron bulwark against her strength.

"If it involves my friends? Then I might have to fight you. You seem strong... You'd probably beat me." He explained, as he stood up to the woman, pulling his hand away.

"But just because there's a fight ahead of you that you can't win-" He stared over her should, as he watched two people leave the building. Hrm.

Well. That mades things easier. So it was Tragedy and one of her warriors. I guess he wasn't too far from the truth in his mind after all.

He glanced over the womans shoulder.

"Is there anyone else left inside?"" He questioned, still holding the rifle in his hands.


(Isaiah Dawn)
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[09:23] Following after Tragedy- who evidently made herself scarce and left far more quickly than Brazha -comes the same gigantic figure as before, clad in solid plate metal and blackened by soot and heat.
Where Lotlhuitl may be tall, a mere duo of strides brings Brazha to loom over them from behind, half again her height and numerous times broader. A sheer colossus, far too large to be human.

No words are said in that moment of ominous silence and vaguely uncomfortable looming, with the giant warrior merely stood in wait as the others block their path, inadvertently or otherwise.

One of Tragedy's warriors? Certainly not.
But by the massive axe slung across their back and the plate mail, a warrior indeed.

Eventually, that earthen rumble of a voice rolls free, as inevitable as a landslide.

"Nagual. What is this? I go for words. With Tragedy. I go for privacy. And discussion. And you and some child. With a gun. Are waiting outside."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[09:32] Lotlhuitl had stared in silence to Isaiah's words. Her temper running cold once more. She exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering closed as she attempted to keep control of herself as the young man kept bothering her.

"You almost remind me of myself," was what she finally said. "That's not a compliment. Fine, go in. I won't mourn your--"

Lotlhuitl cut herself as she heard the sound of footsteps. Guards? Her ears had twitched, and she caught sight of Sibri in the distance -- but failed to look hard enough to recognise him.

After all, it was at that point when the door finally opened. Closed.

Oh good, Brazha and Tragedy had finished. The time for entertainment was over. The approaching figure (Sibri!) was momentarily forgotten as Brazha spoke. The Nagual wheeled around, eyes narrowed.

"I kept your precious privacy. The gun was pointed at me.Does not an ounce of gratitude lurk within you, Vanirhallan?"


(Lotlhuitl)
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[09:37] Moving closer now, his bright, round eyes took everything for an extended moment before his focus went elsewhere. Sibri turned to face the ocean, staring down at the bubbly foam that rocked in and out against the tips of his boots.

He had an aloofness about him, a distant expression as he watched the waters, inhaling the scent.
(Sibri)
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[09:37] Ah. Well... That answered that. He leaned the rifle over his back.

"Oh. You were just guarding Tragedy and a man talking in private. You could have just said that." He said, scratching behind his head as the hostility immediately bled from the situation.

"Urgh. Why was that so hard?" He questioned, giving the woman a funny look as he lifted the rifle back into its holster. He waved at the massive man.

"Greetings. Sorry. Your doorguard here wouldn't tell me who was inside... So I assumed you were hurting one of the people of Crafthold. As the town guard..." He looked over at the house.

"It's my job to make sure no trouble is caused." He said simply, crossing his arms.

"And make sure my friends don't end up killed by some wandering bandits. I apologize for the incursion." He explained.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[09:43] "I do not give. Gratitude. Over rightful payment. Just like a merchant. Does not give gratitude. When paid for goods."

That great helm tilts somewhat, a glimmer of gold swimming behind that cross-visor as the colossus regards Lotlhuitl, paying Isaiah's explanation little mind in the moment-
After all, it sounds reasonable enough. Someone doing their job, and inconveniencing someone. . who isn't Brazha.

"I will. Consider it payment. For wasting my time. Instead of your jewellery. You've made up for your mistake."

But yet again, another contemplative pause falls over the colossus, whose ponderous thoughts swirl and drift like a lazy summertime insect, or even the very embers that dance over their blackened armour.

"But when. When are you taking repayment. For the gun pointed at you, Nagual?"
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[09:53] Iosefka emerges from the home, yawning loudly.
(Iosefka)
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[09:55] At Isaiah's exasperation, Lotlhuitl FINALLY smiled behind her mask. Inclining her head ever so slightly, she couldn't keep the smirk out of her silken voice as she explained: "I could have just said so, but then, denying you was entertaining."

Movement. Lotlhuitl looked slightly up the shoreline. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating to see that Sibri was here. That fact was taken, barely processed before the conversation continued along around her.

"I am no mere door guard!" Lotlhuitl protested, plainly offended and equally ignoring the reality that, well, she really HAD just been guarding a door. She punctuated her protestation with a little stomp of her left foot. The countless items of jewellery she wore jolted with the sudden movement. Jingle.

And then, Brazha. Lotlhuitl scowled behind her mask. Folded her arms in front of her chest, left hand still clutching her metal staff. "What. Payment? No." Damn it. The woman felt her cheeks flush, embarrassment rising within her. "I didn't DO it for you!" She hissed, suddenly wanting to retract the entire business.

'But when are you taking repayment. For the gun pointed at you, Nagual?' Lotlhuitl went completely stiff. Indeed, she wanted to demand satisfaction from Isaiah, and yet to do it now would make it look like it was all Brazha's idea.

"He's an idiot and not worth my time. You, on the other hand, you I demand satisfaction from."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[10:01] The boy sighs, looking over this woman.

She wasn't evil. She was just... Different. He kind of thought that was cool, in its own way. He smiled over at her as she got all flushed.

"...Sorry for bothering you. You're... Not bad." He nodded at her. He found her attitude outside of talking to him to be rather humerous. He liked it!

"Stay safe. And... If Tragedy needs a home to speak privately in... Can you please not break down doors?" He questioned, crossing his arms.

"This isn't cheap, you know! There is a public tavern you can lock the doors on!" He scolded them, before walking back, giving them room as he shook his head in disbelief.
(Isaiah Dawn)
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[10:04] Iosefka, emerging through the broken down door of her own home, raises an eyebrow at the scene before her. But just standing here for a few moments helps her learn everything she needs to know. She looks at the door, and then back to those gathered, and flashes a smile.

"I hope the house was of use!" She'd chirp. "I just hope no one took anything from there. If there's... Even anything to take from there. Hm."

Shrug!

"Can you all clear out, though? Tez is still asleep."
(Iosefka)
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[10:05] A vine had slithered out of his sleeve like a snake, hovering over the surface of the water. It stretched out, growing, heading further into the expanding blue before lashing down deep, searching out...

--Ah. There it is. Tonight's supper. The vine coiled against a fish it located underwater and then dragged it back to the sand, letting the bream flop helplessly at Sibri's feet.

Staring down at it for a moment, he then looked back to the others, watching them impassively. Most of his focus was on Lotl's back.
(Sibri)
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[10:09] "You reek. Of Vaalmooran."

A low grunt shudders its way from the colossal figure's powerful chest, just as deep and earthen as their voice. Very little body language can easily be discerned beneath solid metal, but there's just enough-
Just enough to see the tension in the way that Brazha straightens up, lifting their shoulders. Tension, irritability. Uncomfortableness.

"I am not yours. To demand satisfaction from. Distrustful snake. I told the Vaalmooran as much. Told her I'd have her head. If she bared those. Vaalmooran talons. I'm watching you. Closely. Nagual."

A deep breath brings that breastplate to rise and fall, before the towering figure half-turns to regard Iosefka- one of the group of children who requested to use the mines a few years back, perhaps? Hard to recall, in truth.
A mere nod is offered in response. Certainly, as far as Brazha concerned, they didn't choose thevenue or break through any doors, at least personally. .

And then, back towards Lotlhuitl.

"No Vaalmooran. And none that resemble. A Vaalmooran. Will have my trust. Beyond your reach.
Be thankful. I accept any recompense. For wasting my time at all."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[10:15] Lotlhuitl STARED. The words Brazha spoke made little sense, initially. But she got that they weren't supposed to be a compliment. And soon, her expression matched her mask.

A fierce snarl.

"What are you TALKING about?" Lotlhuitl screeched at Brazha, her anger finally breaching through her attempts at restraint. Her tail flicked back and forth, fluffy fur bristling.

"I challenge you to a DUEL." A blast of lightning was thrown at Brazha. Lotlhuitl would've slapped the woman across her helmeted face, but she was too short! At six feet in height herself, that was really an oddity.

What the fuck.

"I can do what I fucking well LIKE! You humiliated me in front of Tragedy."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[10:21] The now-damp vine that floated in the air stretched out toward Lothuitl gradually, with Sibri's fingers curling out in their direction, a over here' motion. --Then she screamed at Brazha, and a flash of light boomed out just a second later, causing the tendril to hesitate, pausing some.

Sibri exhaled out of his nose and mouth, "--Come-come, Lotl. You are upsetting everyone. Let's go, keeh." The tendril resumed its approach, accelerating- it lashed forward, attempting to wrap around her wrist. It was a light squeeze, something she could easily wrangle out of with enough force.

The Dryad straightened to stand tall, his shoulders broadening out.
(Sibri)
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[10:24] Isaiah Dawn says, "Alright well this seems solved- IIII'm just gonna go."
[10:31] The effect is more immediate than one might expect from the Vanirhallan- with movements, responses, and contemplation so glacial in its slowness, one might expect the shock to barely phase the giant, like trying to slap a rock.
But, just like the slap that the bolt is meant to mimic, Brazha does indeed recoil slightly! It may be a touch lessened by the sheer size of the colossus, but certainly there's something.

And then, much as if one had slapped someone far larger, a degree of silence and tension falls.

Those embers glow more brightly, just as they did before. They dance and swirl, shook loose from furs and fabrics alike as the Vanirhallan rolls their inhumanly broad shoulders. The heat rises, radiating from Brazha like a kindling furnace, hotter and hotter. .

And eventually, their voice rumbles once again. Slow. Calm. As patient as the earth.

"I take. What is mine. What I am owed. What I deserve.
I kill thieves. Foes. Beasts. Those who wrong me.
I amass. Wealth others dream about. In gold. In jewels. In slaves.
You could accuse me. Of much. But what I don't care about. Even remotely. Is your feelings. Or your humiliation. Your state. Of embarrassment. Is not my desire. Nor is the opposite. It isn't even. In my periphery.

Do you understand? You do not benefit me. With how much time you've wasted. You are only. An ongoing drain. Your humiliation. Gets me nothing of value. Your happiness. Is not worth more. Than the time it would take. Your unhappiness. Is not worth more. Than the time it would take.

If you are humiliated. It's you own doing. Nagual."

Clench. Unclench. Slowly but surely, each of the colossus' hands tighten into fists and release, as if grasping ethereal stress balls.

"You want a duel. Pay up. I will not waste more time on you. For nothing."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[10:32] Iosefka quietly slips back into the house. Best to just let this one go.
(Iosefka)
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[11:01] For a second, it seemed like Sibri would succeed in encouraging Lotlhuitl away from Brazha. The woman's slender wrist was wrapped in a slippery and wet (ew) vine. She could have tugged herself free easily, but Lotlhuitl was shocked that Sibri was doing this. Was interrupting her.

"But--" she protested, sounding less like a ferocious warrior and more like a woman who'd just had all the hot air sucked out of her. Deflated. But I want to fight the giant Vanirhallan lady! one could almost imagine her whining. But she didn't vocalise that: she still had her pride.

At least, until Brazha stepped on it.

Lotlhuitl visibly tensed as the much, much, much, much, much taller woman started to talk. Talk down to her, she realised. '...But what I don't care about. Even remotely. Is your feelings...' Lotlhuitl inhaled sharply.

And with the sound of cracking glass, a curious pale glow began to shimmer around the Nagual woman.

'If you are humiliated. It's you own doing. Nagual.'

Lotlhuitl sharply exhaled through her nose, jerking her wrist free of Sibri's vine-grasp. Under her breath, she snarled at the Dryad. "How could you, Sibri. I am not upsetting everyone. She is!"

The woman now crackled with electricity, her expression deadly serious.

'You want a duel. Pay up. I will not waste more time on you. For nothing.' She couldn't dignify that with a response. She was outraged. Words wouldn't suffice. Only--

Suddenly, without warning, reality LURCHED 90 degrees, with Lotlhuitl at the epicentre of the aberration. The world was covered in reflections. Pale green shards of glass, reflecting an eerie otherworldly light. Glowing. One lurked immediately between Brazha and Lotlhuitl. As big as the giant, it reflected the gigantean woman. At that moment, Brazha may have had the distinct feeling that the Nagual with the strangely reflective eyes wasn't just looking at her physical body -- but at her soul.

And then as quickly as all of this abberant imagery had arrived, it reverted. Everything was at it should be. As it always had been. Or was it? There was a shattering sound, and Lotlhuitl held a shard of glass which still bore Brazha's reflection on it.

And with a snarl, she'd plunged it into herself. Curiously, this shard of glass didn't seem to cut Lotlhuitl. It didn't cut her flesh, but rather sunk into her. And suddenly? She knew Brazha.

And corruption ROARED forth from the Nagual.

"I'll pay you all right!"
(Lotlhuitl)
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[11:10] As Brazha continued to speak, Sibri's gaze gradually transitioned from apathy to something of a glare, fixing on the massive woman. He shook his head, though he couldn't stand idle for long...

He was forced to take a step back. A battle was underway.

It was that familiar sensation--the one that felt like nails on a chalkboard to him, or a stinging bee trapped in his chest. Sibri wasn't one to shy away from the sensation, despite the pained wince he gave when the corruption erupted around Lothuitl.
No, he stood tall after rocking away to give Lotl dstance, composed in his observations.

The damp vine that she slipped out of slithered into the sand, disappearing from sight, like an earth worm burrowing into the soil.

"Keeh. You talk too much, giant."
(Sibri)
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[11:35] Just like the Vaalmoorans.
Perhaps a great many would be alien to such corruption, such an ability. Perhaps a great many would see it as something awful, impure, wrong, even a crime against the natural order of things. Perhaps some would see one possessing such magic as a danger and a pariah, one to exile or criminalise. Those who delve so deeply into sin, willingly or not, intentionally or unwitting.

But not to Brazha.

One great hand descends to the blade at their waist, rather than the immense axe at their back. As the world distorts, the cyclops is met with their mirror image, and Lotlhuitl understands and mimics something, Brazha operates with the calmness and patience of the earth.
Was this a foe they could defeat? Unlikely. But one to watch closely. One to observe from. Take from. To turn her value into Brazha's. And certainly, a foe who. .

A foe who resembled the homeland so closely. The same corrupt, head-swimming sensations in the air as one would find in Vanirhalla, especially amongst those dedicated to Vaalmoora.
No. To Brazha, such a power isn't a matter of Sin. Not at all.

Such a power is instead a blessing.
Perhaps the hulking figure sees only a Champion of Vaalmoora in Lotlhuitl's place.

Before the katana is drawn, before combat erupts, the colossus' shield arm rises. It alights upon the warded, soot-blackened helm to lift the armour up and off.
A shake of her head frees those great braids of Nordic red hair once more, that snow-pale visage and soot-blackened cheeks. That huge, unnervingly sharp eye, its crystal blue depths swimming with gold, flecks of it sparkling now in those slate-grey horns. .

Gold.
Brighter, brighter still. The embers that dance around the giant shine and swarm like fireflies, a great swirling mass around her. But they grow brighter. From dim red, tosmouldering orange, and then-

It's nagging, at first. A little voice in the back of Lotlhuitl's mind. No, something lesser still. Just that little tugging sensation that one has lost something. Something important. No, it grows worse, worse. .
Like one has lost some part of themselves. Minor, but preventing oneself from being whole.

The blue of that great eye flares with the gold that swims within it, a brilliant burnished shade that replaces even the light of those embers, leaving them looking like a swirling cloud of gold dust.
But they're far from beautiful. They only reflect loss and violation, of that very robbery of something deep within.

Heat spreads, more palpable by the moment. The sands beneath Brazha's feet melt into golden, liquid glass through the sheer heat and pressure.

But Brazha proves to not be the only gleaming treasure- ordinarily so disproportionately undersized, the blue blade at Brazha's side is swiftly drawn, swimming with flame and joined by flowing glass, only now looking even remotely proportioned when lengthened by that very heat.
Blue, immaculate, and very old by now- the final blade of Xuan Hao, now somehow in the cyclops' grasp.

For an instant, an actual glimmer of expression swims over the giant's stony visage. A slight twitch, an upturn at the very corner of her mouth.
Finally- a reminder of home.

"Champion of Vaalmoora! I knew it. I knew I could smell. Her foulness! His worming influence! If you won't be convinced. Of neutrality through words.
Then we will clash. Champion of Vaalmoora, Champion of Garjling! Like the old ways!
I will take. All the knowledge I can from this!"

Now more than ever before in this trip to Crafthome, it seems Brazha finally appreciates the Nagual's existence!
But that doesn't change the fact that holy shit was that rant about humiliation an attempt to calm Lotl down?
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[11:43] ** Brazha Earthcleaver has inflicted an injury upon Lotlhuitl. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[11:50] Sibri whispers something.
[11:50] Maximilius asks, "What in Azraels name?"
[11:51] Maximilius asks, "Well, this is uh, something?"
[11:52] Cho says, "< *Her gaze flutters to Lothuitl- narrowing slightly. A tongue passes over her fangs as she soon looks to Brazha.* >"
[11:52] Cho whispers something.
[11:52] Cho whispers something.
[11:53] Cho whispers something.
[11:53] Sibri whispers something.
[11:54] Sibri whispers something.
[11:54] Sibri whispers something.
[11:54] Cho whispers something.
[11:54] Cho says, "< *Her arms cross, her head tilting* >"
[11:54] Cho whispers something.
[11:55] As he whispered, Sibri's pink eyes were locked on the battle, watching the exchange of blows with a focused, unblinking intent. His posture was stiff, as if he could animate at any moment.

A small frown surfaced when it looked like Lotl was being beaten back.
(Sibri)
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[11:56] Sibri whispers something.
[11:58] Maximilius says, "I was going to offer mine, but ah well."
[11:58]
Her gaze flutters from one to the other, her hand raising carefully towards her cheek- lightly tapping. She didn't seem to feel any type of way, however...
(Cho)
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[11:58] Cho whispers something.
[11:59] Sibri whispers something.
[12:00] Maximilius says, "..."
[12:00] Maximilius says, "Fucking brutal."
[12:00] Cho says, "< *She quirks an eyebrow* > "
[12:00] Cho whispers something.
[12:01] Sibri whispers something.
[12:03] Cho whispers something.
[12:05] Water and fire, blood and earth, magic and metal.
Envy and Greed.

Indeed, much of the fight proves to be hard to watch from the outside in- waters erupt into great gouts of steam, sands swirl, contort, rise and melt. Advantageous terrain for both combatants without doubt.

Huge. Imposing. In her homeland, a beast of war. Someone the Karkites would try to turn into a pair of leather boots. A brutish monster through and through.
That's what one would expect, and it's not at all far from the truth. The katana, once owned by a master of the art, is swung brutally and carelessly as if it were the axe upon Brazha's back, only made at all useful by the flames and liquid glass extending its range to something more fitting for the colossus.

Faster than her prior movements and words would indicate, however, it seems as though there's a touch more than sheer and overwhelming strength in the cyclops- from blitzes of brutish, berserker violence to the calm patience of the earth she alternates, seemingly moments from being overtaken by the fury of a northern warrior before each lapse of calm.

And all the while, that great eye remains on her foe. Watching. Observing. Glimmering with gold.
And taking all it can, moment by moment. Watching her technique, her abilities, her magic, compartmentalising all Brazha could take in as if sorting away any of her other treasures.

But certainly, not even that plate mail or even the powerful flesh beyond prevent the giant from taking plenty of hits- indeed, battered by waters and blood, fighting a foe who already knows her in the very way that Brazha seemingly tries to take knowledge from Lotlhuitl, it seems as though the cyclops is fit to drop at numerous occasions-

Slice.
Amidst swirling sands and molten glass, the beach beneath the duo's feet obscuring vision for an instant, the Vanirhallan strikes. An upward arc of that glass-lengthenedblade glides through the sands with surprising grace for the brute, super-heated and vicious.
Decisive, perhaps- it strikes the Nagual across the gut, leaving a deep and open wound, already seared by magmatic heat.

Not something that would follow Lotlhuitl for life- but perhaps disabling in the moment, and decisive enough to end the clash.

Her armour washed clean of the soot, Brazha looms over her fellow Sin like the true colossus, monumental and unwavering. Black has given away to purple, revealing the adamantine nature of the giant's armour, battered and burned.
That now-golden gaze remains a shining beacon of violation even amongst the swirling gold-dust, staring towards her foe, with no intention of pursuit or capture.
And thankfully no capture roll anyway.

With a deep wheeze, that earthen voice rolls forth again.

"Champion of Vaalmoora. Great Garjling wins this day.
I told you. Already. If you want to duel me. You will pay.
What will I take from you? Choose. Or flee."
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[12:07] Sibri whispers something.
[12:34] Lotlhuitl had copied from Brazha, but Brazha had STOLEN from her. Lotlhuitl felt it. The corrupt presence which snatched from her. The knowledge that some part of her had been taken from her pushed the Nagual to new depths of insanity. And so it was that the Nagual practically threw herself at Brazha. Seemingly, she fought without concern for her own safety, her power surging violently.

Lotlhuitl attacked the cyclopean woman with abandon.

Slice.

"Hnk--"

pain.

NO.

She had been defeated.

The blow stopped Lotlhuitl in her tracks. With wide eyes, the Nagual had stared down at her exposed stomach. Detached, she'd almost giggled. Ah, so that's what the rest of the armour had been for. Whoops.

Useless. Useless and weak.

The Nagual's knees gave out and she fell. Prone, on her side. Clutching the wound. It was a small mercy that the blade had mostly seared the wound shut, but Lotlhuitl had lost a lot of blood in the fight already. The blood mage was clearly as reckless as she was petty.

Silent, save for the sound of her own laboured breath passing her lips, Lotlhuitl watched Brazha approach. Her gaze still glowed with abberant and reflective light.

Lotlhuitl was a very serious, gloomy woman. She rarely smiled. And even rarer was it that she would laugh. But oh, was she laughing now. She laughed and laughed and laugh. She wasn't sure why, exactly, but there was just something hysterically funny about all of this.

Especially considering how her apparent mirth caused her an INTENSE degree of pain.

"You still want a token from me!" Lotlhuitl's voice was muffled by the mask, pained. Strained. Her gauntlet-clad fingers twitched, metal soaked with bright red, thick ichor. Pressed up against a wound. "Aha.. ahaha.."

"What do you want, you've already got plenty of my blood." Her tone was vaguely hysterical. Something within her had distinctly cracked.

"Coin?" Bloodied fingers reached for a pouch, it jingled distinctly, before she threw it at Brazha. Her arm was weak, shaking.. but it was her intention to hit the woman with it.

That act of defiance, of petty contempt done, the woman's entire body shuddered as she attempted to pull herself up. "Or is trinkets?" She grabbed a handful of her jewellery, and with a muffled scream attempted to rip them from her body. These too, now blood soaked, would be thrown at Brazha.

Nothing truly of value was offered, not the mask upon her face, nor the shining sun pendant at her neck.

"My undying hatred?" Lotlhuitl panted, eyes SHINING. "Oh, I give that to you freely."

Ah, but it wasn't exactly true. There was some horrific part within Lotlhuitl that.. now.. truly admired Brazha. There was some part of her which kept saying that Brazha was BETTER than her. Hm. Admired really wasn't the right word. Lotlhuitl wanted to know everything about Brazha Earthcleaver. She wanted to breathe the woman in. She wanted to become her.

She wanted to destroy her.

She envied her.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[12:37]
{LOAD GAME}

[12:41] When the heated sword swerved up toward Lotl's stomach, Sibri instinctively moved. During his dash towards them, the sharpened, intensely hot blade slit through skin and flesh, melting and searing all in the same time. The second the Dryad had to process the strike was one where he knew just how painful, and potentially life threatening it may have been.

How deep was it? Enough to burn away at any vital organs...?

Once the distance had been closed, he'd learn that it was in fact not life threatening, however. If Lotl's strained but plentiful words were anything to go by- now nearby, Sibri looked her over, glancing up and down, and his left hand snapped to her wrist, to stop her from throwing any more trinkets at Brazha.

Sibri glared at Lothuitl. His gaze fell like an act of murder, a glare to stop the heart. The tempature around him lowered sharply and the sensation of death pulsated from the pale, sickly pinks inhis eyes.
Like the changing seasons, he shifted from a dry, distant, breezy autumn's day to the middle of winter. The same winter that tore apart Kayn infront of Lothuitl's eyes.
"Enough, Lotl. We are leaving. Keeh."

The same threatening stare turned to the armored woman a moment later. "And you, too, are leaving. Or I will destroy you. Keh."
(Sibri)
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[12:42] {Item} Dropped a bag of 1000 Coins.
[13:05] With the clash brought to its conclusion, the cyclops returns rather ready to the same slowness that tends to encapsulate them- as calm and patient as the earth in such times that require it, then as inevitable and destructive as a volcanic eruption when that calmness fades.
But with everything done with, liquid glass oozing from the blade and armour alike as geomancy fades, it's that calmness that sets in.

That moment of satisfaction. That instant, however fleeting, of having the desire for more satiated.

For, carried up by the sands themselves into Brazha's free hand, the trinkets once tossed towards her are brought into the cyclops' own grasp. Recompense, for the time being.

As the gold-embered colossus wanders westwards to retrieve her helm from the sands, those very pinpricks of burnished light begin to fade, releasing whatever violation had stolen part of Lotlhuitl from her. Even the glimmer of gold that swims inside that great eye lessens, dimming to a glimmer, that of a golden coin catching the sunlight under tropical shallows. Pure, crystal clear blue.

The helm is lifted and replaced with little ceremony, another treasure to be owned and handled. A mere belonging, despite its powerful warding runes.

"Payment enough. For the duel. Adequate compensation.
Blood or gold. The three most useful words. I know. I never wanted your blood, Vaalmooran. It's worth less than the payment. I'll choose to gain value. From someone. Over cutting them down. At any time it's worth it."

Awful, perhaps- how Lotlhuitl is left injured, hurt in more ways than one, and unstable, whilst her fellow delver into such foul sins remains calm and collected despite their own wounds, satisfied and gaining from the clash, instead of at a loss.
A fist full of gold goes a long way.

"That was. Appreciated. Champion of Vaalmoora, the Champion of Great Garjling. Takes this day. But. It was good. It reminded me of home. Almost payment in itself. . But not quite. I take from this clash, Vaalmooran. You have helped me. Helped me gain more value. Become a better Brazha.

I want to see you soon. Recover well. For I want you and I. Alone. Meeting. Without weapons. Or bloodshed.
No blood. Only gold. Only business.

You know where to find me."

With that, the cyclops grinds into motion once more, like the slow, laboured build up of old clockwork starting up. But before long, unless prevented, Brazha would stride northwards. .
Having only intended to check up on trade routes set up by her underlings, and instead having a meeting with Tragedy and a bloody clash with a fellow sin? A surprising turn of events for a trading mission!
(Brazha Earthcleaver)
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[13:23] Sibri grabbed her.

The Nagual had struggled against him for a moment, a hissed "nng," of defiance rolling from her lips. She was angry! She had been about to throw more things. Her dagger. And then:

Enough, Sibri said. Lotlhuitl was stunned into silence. Stunned? But by the way she reacted, the dryad might as well have struck her. She was hurt and he was mad at her!

Behind the mask, the woman's lips had parted. She'd almost thought to whine, to protest at how unfair he was being. And then she realised. He was mad because she had lost.

The Nagual's eyes widened. A subtle flinch. Not so much at him, but at the realisation itself. Aw, heck. Her fluffy ears even drooped. Letting go of her bitter anger, the woman just looked miserable. Wretched. While it was true that her injuries were most certainly were not fatal, if she kept throwing herself into battle at the rate she had been, well. One could surmise that soon they would start being so.

And so Lotlhuitl was, for a moment, silent. The Nagual let Sibri hold her wrist. Leant on him as she attempted to stand, only partially successful at suppressing a terrible pained screech as her stomach wound -- and her neck! -- flared with pain.

Yeah. She really shouldn't be moving, or trying to move. Being a magi and all, it wouldn't kill her. Magi were a hardy bunch, huh!

Panting, hand attempting to grip Sibri's arm, she had found herself listening to Brazha. Despite herself, Lotlhuitl couldn't help hanging off every word the titan said to her. And it was obvious. Obvious the way her gaze flicked up to stare at the woman. The way her breath caught. Obvious the way she trembled. The way her ears pricked forward.

"Appreciated?" Lotlhuitl repeated. Stunned.

This didn't change anything. This didn't change anything at all. Who was this woman, to dish out praise and sympathy and gratitude. What happened to not offering gratitude for payment?

Something twisted within her. And hoarse, she SCREAMED after Brazha. "W-what kind of trick is this? What ARE you?" And almost instantly regretted it, as the pain flared and she remembered Sibri's cold anger. And besides, she didn't think Brazha had heard her, anyway. She'd.. walked away.

Lotlhuitl shivered. Suddely growing limp. Woozy.

Edges of her vision turning hazy from the pain.

"Sibri--"

She didn't know what to say.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[13:33] Sibri's deathly glare lingered on the Vanirhallan as they left, firing off invisible arrows into their back. Once out of sight, his attention was solely on Lothuitl--while his hands felt cold to the touch, they did move to wrap around her, offering support.

A gentle nudged allowed her to lean into him. Frowning down at the stomach wound, his gaze lifted, inspecting- that was the only major one aside from a few cuts and bruises, he noted thankfully- though he did stare curiously at the collar-shaped burn mark...

"...Keh. What is it with people wanting to...--"
Enslave her, might be the phrase? Xonocan, Xitlalli, and whoever did this...

Maybe it was...?

"Your 'ex-friend', I assume?" The Dryad stared at the burn marks, and his frown would only deepen, his eyes falling half-lidded. The falling tempature ceased gradually, the atmosphere around him returning to normal once more, relaxing.
(Sibri)
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[13:40] Lotlhuitl felt weak. The Nagual permitted Sibri to hold her. In fact, she desperately wanted him to comfort her.+ Her aloof nature didn't typically let her easily express this, but right now? She didn't really have any choice. She HAD to lean into him. She only stood because he was holding her stationary.

Her tail twitched, her gaze dipping to the sand as she shivered in his grip. This time the cool temperature was welcomed. Her flesh still burnt from both injuries, and contact with Sibri seemed to ease the pain.

"No," Lotlhuitl murmured, her tail bristling. "Not Xitlalli."

She'd answered the question, but not in a satisfactory way. Not at all satisfactory.

"I don't want you to take revenge. Not yet."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[13:49] The answer she gave had him stare at her silently for an extended moment, a listless, displeased look... His freezing fingers curled inwards, squeezing, pinching against her flesh with light force--on her lower back with firmness.

Sibri breathed. "Do not give me more reasons to worry about you," he murmured out in a huff, before his digits slid down, scooping up against her thighs The other hand supported her back as he lifted her, carrying the Nagual bridal style. She was kept close to his chest, though he didn't look dare to meet her gaze when they made their way back.

"Explain. Tell me who is attempting to 'collar' my mate. Keeeh."
Who I need to erase.

Of all the people in the world, the Dryad was certainly near the top of the list when it came to knowing Lothuitl's trac record in relationships.

"...--And," finally, there was a reluctant glance down once they reached the steps down, a brief one. Sibri spoke in a whisper. His tone lacked the rigid authority of his prior command. "How do you feel? Not too bad? I will... Apply a blend of healing herbs, keeh..."
(Sibri)
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[13:49] Sibri says, "look down to meet her gaze*"
[14:10] Lotlhuitl shivered, unable to suppress a whimper as his freezing cold fingers found her back. He pinched her. The Nagual somehow managed to look even more deflated as Sibri told her not to give him more reasons to be concerned. He worried? The idea seemed foreign to her. And a detached part of her mind marvelled at that, while the rest of her gasped and shuddered with pain as he scooped her up.

Ithurtithurtithurt--

Lotlhuitl did her best to not seem like a weakling, but even wearing the mask her agony would've been obvious. She had thrown her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him in desperation. Perspiration dotted her brow. She hurt. Tears glistened at her eyelashes like dew. Her eyes were watering. Yeah, that was it. It was just the pain. It wasn't at all the emotional agony she felt at what she'd been through these past couple of days.

Explain, Sibri demanded.

"Little more than a boy," Lotlhuitl began. Her voice trembling. She had reasons for not telling Sibri. For one, it filled her with small amount of shame that she constantly had to rely on others to solve her problems for her. For two?

Well.

Lotlhuitl bit her bottom lip, hesitating, before finally admitting, "A boy who reminds me of Xoconan. Power hungry and cruel. It was the funniest thing, though. He burnt me with one hand, demanded I yield to him. And when I refused, he admitted that he would've hurt me further if I had." The Nagual let out a sound which most certainly was not a lightly wet sob, muffled by her mask. She wasn't crying. She didn't cry. "B-but the funniest thing was, I thought I could beat him. And when I didn't, I just.."

She grew silent as Sibri asked her how she felt. She felt awful. But the thought occurred to her that perhaps she was just soft. Weak.

"I'm fine. It'll heal."

She attempted to refuse Sibri's help. Stubborn and embarrassed. She felt like a loser. Hah. She was a loser, and now Sibri knew it.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[14:22] As she squeezed into him in her pain, Sibri embraced in return, wrapping his arm tighter against her back. "Sshhh, there-there," he cooed, kissing down against her hair, "It will be all better soon. Keeh." She was kept against his chest, held on a slight angle, as she spoke- like retreating into a turtle shell, or beneath a blanket.

Unable to see the Dryad's expression, they would however hear the click of a door unlocking, and he carried her inside. Once within, Lothuitl was lowered ever-so-slightly, able to peak up. If she expected anger, or disappointment, there was only a sense of neutrality brewing within his expression.

"Do you want me to kill him."
Sibri asked plainly, through thin, straight lines, stone-faced. Up the stairs they went, toward the bedroom, where he'd gently settle her down against the bed. The Dryad forced a smile, and stared at the red marks on her neck, "...Because I want to kill him, keeh."

His fingers moved toward it, almost brushing against the burns before deciding against that. Instead, they traced along her chin, and departed a moment's later when he turned toward a nearby cabinet. "I do not like seeing you in pain, or unhappy. Or disatisfied. Or...--" As he listed them off, he silently acknowledged that Lothuitl was often all of those things in one chaotic blend.

"...I do not like to see you in pain, keeh."
--He'd start there first... A little simpler...

The Dryad swiped a glass bottle from the shelf. The concoction within was a bright blue, shining faintly, with traces of gold moving about inside like tiny shooting stars. In his turn back toward her, he leaned in, kissing the tip of her nose, and exploring her lips for a few brief moments afterwards, before whispering out...
"I was saving this potion, but with the state you're in... Ah, keeh. I'll apply it to your wounds, my sweet. And when you wake up in the morning, you'll feel as good as new. Beside me. In my arms. Safe."
(Sibri)
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[14:36] Lotlhuitl whimpered. She felt as weak as a child. Too weak to resist when he cooed over her and kissed her. And in truth? She was almost glad she didn't have enough strength to resist. Part of her was surprised to discover that she actually liked this affection he was showing her.

Gross.

Her hair was a mess. Blood and sand and even the odd stick. Silken it might have been, but it was still a tangled mess.

Do you want me to kill him.

A complicated question. Did she want him dead would have been an easy one, yes, a thousand times yes. The Nagual had let out a shaken, teary exhale as Sibri settled her on the bed. Her hands shaking, she reached up and removed her mask. Staring up at him, her rich brown skin decidedly ashen.

"He told me that he would capture Kayeliun's daughter for me."

She could feel her heart beating within her chest. To anyone else, her plan was likely crazy, and she honestly couldn't remember if she'd ever told Sibri any element of her incredibly petty plot to gain revenge on Kayeliun.

"I intended on killing him after he did this for me."

Her bottom lip wavered as Sibri leant in. She raised her chin, leaning in, expecting him to touch her. And she was visibly distraught when he didn't. This was perhaps an inkling towards just how vulnerable Lotlhuitl was feeling. She reached for him, but he'd turned from her. Grabbing something off a shelf. A glass bottle?

Her fingers brushed against him, and a sound which was halfway between a sob and a laugh rolled from her lips as he kissed the tip of her nose. Sad kisses followed.

"I don't deserve it." The words just fell from her lips. She really meant them. And she hated them all the same. "I mean, I. I'll be fine." She detested herself. Detested how weak and angsty she sounded. She refused to sound sorry for herself.

Her gaze dropped to her lap.

"Lucan did it."
(Lotlhuitl)
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[14:48] Sibri made his way around the bed and plopped onto it, shuffling in against her side as he listened. He sat straight and watched, giving a cautious shake of his head to her plan, "Lotl. That's a terrible idea. Keheh..."

The Dryad's plainly spoken words continued, while his fingers absentmindedly brushed up and down her hip, avoiding any wounds. "Using the kid and disposing of him afterward? Fine. Expecting him to actually put it off? Keheheh... No-no."

"Why do you not ask someone far more powerful. Far more effecient. Like me. Keeeh." A grin took to him, and his tongue moved against his yellow fang, as his digits left her hip and moved toward the potion he held...

Once unsealed, it popped, fizzling out in a froth of shimmering bubbles. Golden sparkles--concentrated fairy dust--danced within the liquid, swarming up and out once it was opened. Like miniature fireworks in a way. Sibri admired it for a moment before getting to work, which first involved pouring it against a dry, clean cloth he had also swiped from the cabinet.

"Come. Let's erase that red ring. The only restraints you'll ever have are the invisible chains of my love. Keh-keh." And so he'd start there with a certain eagerness--brushing the cloth around, dabbing the burn marks gently. Instantly, she felt a rush of comfort and cleansing, as her skin tingled and was rejuvinated with the application of the potion.

He had to slip a hand behind her head to lift her up from the pillow, to get behind, and he decided to lean in with it- brushing his grinning lips to hers. "You taste good, all beaten up, keheh..."

Sibri bit against her lip teasingly when he pulled back, the cloth moving to her stomach. This was a far harsher wound, he noted, moving it against the deep cut attentively.

Once it was all done, he moved close, nudging his shoulder against hers. "How do you feel?"
(Sibri)
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[14:48] {Item} You picked up Elixir Of Healing.Dropped by Sibri. .
[15:03] 'Lotl. That's a terrible idea. Keheh...'

Normally, hearing that Sibri didn't think her idea was good would have at the least made her defensive, if not outright get a rise out of her. But now? The Nagual just stared at Sibri, wide eyed. She leant her head against his shoulder, ear flicking.

"Oh..." She exhaled. That was all. That was all she could offer. "I.. ahmn.." She stammered, still leaning against the dryad. "The child trusts him, so he says. I think he could pull it off."

Why ask him?

Finally, she looked up at him once more.

"Because he is worthless to me."

The implication being there that Sibri was not. Worthless, that is.

"Nng," Lotlhuitl exhaled. Her lips parting as she felt the strange fizzing liquid get to work. It felt nice. Comforting. Cleaning. The healing magic contained within the elixir was powerful indeed. Shedidn't resist as Sibri moved her, touched her, kissed her, her eyes remaining half lidded. She stared at the dryad from beneath dark eyelashes, still dewy with tears.

"Mmm," was all she had to say to his kisses. This set was considerably less teary -- though, perhaps awkwardly, not entirely tear free. But still. She obviously liked kissing him. She obviously enjoyed it. Obviously found comfort in his touch.

Light whimpering followed the cloth touching her stomach. Her flesh regenerated quickly, as the potion penetrated her skin, but still. Part of it was obviously mental, a slight concern at having the painful wound be touched at all.

And then it was gone. All the scrapes and bruises, all the cuts, the burns, anywhere Sibri had dabbed with the cloth, they were all better.

The woman lay there, blinking, as she stared up at the dryad.

She didn't know what to say. She didn't hurt any more. The absence of pain after having her senses be flooded with it was a glad thing to experience indeed.

She shifted, turned, hands reaching up to cup Sibri's face as she leant in to kiss him. Passionately, this time, without sobbing halfway through.

Where words failed her, Lotlhuitl let her lips, her body, do the talking.

She was grateful.
(Lotlhuitl)
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[15:14] It made sense enough, hearing that. A small nod of acknowledgement was given, though he made a mental note to learn more details of this 'plan' later on. For now, he let Lothuitl rest against him while he slowly moved the potion's content across her body, almost massaging in a way...

Down her stomach, her legs, up again. The gentle tingling was welcome all over, taking the tension and dull ache out of her body slowly.

Sibri straightened out once it was done, smiling down in content at the sight. "There, your beauty is pristine once more, keheh," he chirped out, though the seared-cut on her stomach was still there, but he could ignore that easily enough.

And her sudden shift onto him certainly helped in forgetting all about it. The Dryad exhaled a sharp breath into the sudden kiss, and his tongue met with hers, returning the passion and more.

He dropped the empty potion bottle. It slid down the bed and onto the floor, cracking...

He needed his hands.

Sibri grinded against her straddling for some moments, but soon pushed forward to lay her back against the blankets. Her thighs were spread out and her legs positioned over his shoulders, his intoxicated, playful gaze down on her above a grin.

"That answers my question. You're feeling much better, keheh. Okay, Lotl--I'll put you to sleep." She would rest easy tonight, but it wouldn't be for some hours...
(Sibri)
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