[PRP] Annoyance (Na'ima/Wrath) FIN

[Eight]

Na'ima had awakened with much confusion. She had felt as if she had experienced an entire lifetime and yet she could swear she had only been asleep for a few hours. She had searched her tent, ensuring that nothing had accidentally been broken while she slept that could have caused those dreams. Nothing. Everything was as it should be. She didn't like this. This 'war is coming' thing. What exactly did it mean? War as in leader of the war clan, or war as in the battle?

Regardless, nothing productive would be done today.

She relaxed in the privacy of her own den, recovering from what had just occurred. The woman was nestled in her collection of pillows and cushions draped in veils and robes, her hookah settled beside her and the pipe hanging loosely from her lips. Golden eyes gazed up at the ceiling of her den. A dream. It was just a dream. No one had to know.

Na'ima sighed, shaking her head. He couldn't read her mind, he didn't have to know, but it still bothered her that she would seem of such things with him. She inhaled, taking a long drag from the hookah before letting out the smoke in a long breath between her lips. Love, children, sex. Ugh. Too complicated. She needed the thoughts gone.  

[Seussi]

When Wrath woke up, he was hungover, which was not at all unusual. What had been unusual, was the incredibly vivid dream he'd had. The dream that did not actually seem like it had been a dream at all. No. It felt like he had lived out many days in that dream, months, years even and each small detail was ingrained in his mind, not likely to be forgotten anytime soon (temporarily, perhaps. Mind altering substances never worked on him for the long term, though).

It was interesting, to say the very least about it.

When he got out of bed that day, he was a little bit slower than usual to get himself ready to go out for the day. A long, hard look in the mirror was given to himself first. He looked sick, pale beneath his dark skin, the rings around his eyes so dark that he didn't even need charcoal to enhance them. He did not look like the warrior he once was, or like a man who was deserving of a title such as a "Great Knight" (not that he cared about that. It was such a disgustingly human thing).

He took a step back, removing the dirty clothes that he had slept in. His belly was softer than it used to be. It hadn't quits lost all definition yet, but if he wasn't careful, it would. He flexed, and his muscles did not bulge quite like they used to. Letting out a disgusted snort, he turned his back on himself, and spent the remainder of his morning getting cleaned, untangling the thick mess of hair that reached down to the floor to braid it, dressing again, finding himself something to solid to eat, all things he didn't normally bother himself with.

He couldn't quite place a finger on what exactly it was, but something about that dream made him realize that the trainwreck he had become was not doing him, or anybody else, any good. It was not going to change that his family was gone, and that he couldn't do anything about it. The time for grief, while never completely over, could at the very least be subdued.

When he was ready, looking moderately better for wear than he had when he had awoken, he set out through the tower with only one destination in mind.

Hers.

As awkward as it may be, she was the only one in that dream world that he remembered, quite vividly, and knew personally in that of the waking. He had to know if she had been there too, if her experience had been the same as his own. Love, marriage, children....these were all concepts that were foreign to him, ones that he had treated with contempt.

But somehow, residually, there were feelings that had not quite faded away just yet. That dream man's happiness, his joy, his elation, his devotion to one woman that he had fallen for from the first moment he had seen her. His passion, his pride, his loyalty. As awful as it should have been, there was a part of Wrath, however small, that actually envied him. He'd had a family, after all, and had been strong, where it seemed Wrath had been quite weak.

But he'd had her, and Wrath, this Wrath, had had nobody in so long now.

He had reached his destination. Na'ima's home, and for a moment, he hesitated. How would it feel to see her here, now? She was an entirely different woman from the one in that dream, he knew, but....

He shook his head, muttered something under his breath (likely a curse of some kind in some long dead language), and pushed his way inside.

"Hello? Na'ima?" His voice boomed as he stood just inside. "Are you home?"

eight

idk what i'm doing

 

[Eight]

Na'ima held a thin white veil in her hands, delicate fingers feeling the soft cloth and gently running along its length. She frowned and moved it, draping it over her head and settling back against her pillows again. What now? She was actually finding herself...bored? That was unusual for her, she was generally so busy she didn't have time to feel bored. Was it because of that dream where she had constantly been on the go fighting for survival? Ugh.

Wrath's voice reached her ears and she tensed, heart immediately racing and head swimming. No, no. She wasn't ready. She couldn't see him yet, not when she still reacted in the same way that terrible human had. s**t. At first Na'ima didn't react, in fact she considered not replying at all and letting him believe she was out, but one look at her hookah and her lit pipe told her that likely wouldn't be happening. The sent wafted out of he den entrance, it would give her away even if she lied.

Finally, with a quiet sigh, she rose to her feet and drifted slowly toward the entrance of her home where she knew Wrath stood waiting. Na'ima pushed the decorative flap aside that blocked off her living chamber from the entryway of her den, leaning to one side and letting her pipe hang loose between her teeth where she could let it idly bounce while she looked up at Wrath. She studied him, saying nothing at first. He looked vastly different from the man in her dream, especially the horns and red eyes. It was an improvement. The brown eyes were too plain, they were too human. Bright eyes looked him up and down before finally settling on his face again. How could she greet him? Why was he here now? Was it simply coincidence?

The pipe was plucked from between her lips to be held between delicate fingers. She frowned. "I'm not working today, just so you know. I'm taking the day off, so if you wish to be drugged beyond recognition you may need to visit Salbei." There was a pause. "You cleaned up," she observed with mild surprise. Was he no longer letting himself go? Strange. It had to be coincidence. Her eyes turned down to the pipe in her hands before she stepped to one side, keeping the flap open. "Unless a hookah will do."

xSeussi

 

[Seussi]

There was an unmistakable scent in the air, one that told him that Na'ima was likely home or, at the very least, had been there recently. There was a chance she had stepped out, however, so he remained where he was until an answer came. If she was not in, he would probably check Salbei's tents next, to see if the horsewoman was perhaps with him.

If she was home, she was sure taking her sweet time in answering him, however. He shifted on his feet, a belt of metal loops that hung loose around his waist (among many other belts) clinking together lightly. He just thought to turn and leave when the tent flap that partitioned off her den from the area that he stood in was pushed aside, making him stop mid-motion, and then settle into a stance that was turned towards her.

Eyes that were not at all like that human's he'd been in the dream regarded her for a few long moments. It was not often that he looked at Na'ima and saw her for the beautiful creature that she was. She had long ago knocked an foolish ideas that she might ever be interested in him out of his head, and he had succumbed quite easily to the notion. She did not want him, he did not want her. It worked. Now, however, he saw her in a slightly different way. Even if it had not really been them, it was hard to not feel something when he gazed at her.

"I am not here on business, Na'ima." He stated in the low rumble of his voice, gaze trailing down to the hookah pipe held in her hand. "And I have no interest in obliterating all thought from my mind this morning." No, he found, he actually wanted to remember, wanted to cling to that feeling of happiness a moment longer, even if it was just some human's happiness and not his own, as it had been too long since he'd felt something even close.

"That is tempting...." He reached up to stroke at his beard, eyes flicking back to her face, assessing. Had she had the same dream as he? It was impossible to tell. She was, as usual, quite unreadable.

"Why not?" His eyes narrowed slightly, his lips tugging up into a strange sort of smile, something almost coy. Within moments, he was working his way out of his partially steel clad boots, leaving them at the entrance as he made his way further inside.

"Did you sleep well last night, Na'ima?" He asked, giving her a sidelong glance as he passed her and made his way into the den.

eight

 

[Eight]

No interest in--wait, what? She blinked, eyes widening slightly with her surprise as she watched Wrath move about her home. What had changed? She had seen him just yesterday and he looked a mess, granted it was partially because of what she and Salbei had done to his food and drink but he hadn't been all that great even before they had done that. Na'ima relaxed a bit, her head tilted slightly to one side as he went about removing his boots and venturing further into her den. She moved as well, following him before settling into her nest of pillows once more. Na'ima leaned back, taking a long drag from her pipe again.

That was an..interesting question...did he..? No, there was no way. Was there? She eyed Wrath a moment before frowning and twirling her pipe around in her fingers. "I slept as is to be expected, I suppose." She pat beside her in invitation and then offered the pipe up to Wrath, waiting with unusual patience for him to get down and join her.

She pursed her lips a moment, looking thoughtful. It was frustrating, honestly. It wasn't as if Na'ima had never dreamed before, she dreamed quite often and usually she either didn't remember it or it inspired her to try something. It didn't cause lingering feelings for things she otherwise had no interest in. Na'ima gave a soft hum as she reached out to touch part of Wrath's long braid, holding it in delicate fingers and rubbing her thumb against it. He had washed and brushed it, taken actual care in braiding it and managing it. He cleaned up, he put effort into himself. It was a behavior that was out of the norm of what she associated with Wrath. Eventually she released it, looking away to clear her head. There was a buzzing in her head. She didn't like it. She felt a faint affection for Wrath, who looked so similar to the man that woman had been so madly in love with in her dream. She didn't like it. This was a complication, she didn't need those. Life was good as it was right now, she didn't need things messing it up. Na'ima finally felt settled and content for the first time since their homes were destroyed by Hunters.

The veil was pulled from her head and set aside with obvious love and care. It reminded her too much of the wedding, of promises of marriage that seemed so fresh in her mind it was as if she had truly done it herself. "So you're not here on business," she finally said, her voice gentle and curious, "and you wish to remain, for the most part, clear of mind." Her brow raised as she looked to Wrath, and though her eyes were on him she was moving. Na'ima didn't rise to her feet or move from her spot, she only reached far enough to retrieve a bottle of dark paste and a several small cone-like items. "Then what brings you to me today, Rathsvith?"

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

"I wasn't sure if you even bothered with sleep, honestly." He rumbled, moving to ease himself down beside her, his head still a tad sore and dizzy from the after-affects of whatever her and Sal had given him the night before. "You seem like the type who would find it a waste of time and find a way to not ever need it." He eyed the pipe for a moment before taking it, only slightly suspicious of it's contents but assuming it was safe, since she was smoking it herself.

He took a long drag, held it, and exhaled. Whatever it was, it was smooth, and whatever effects it might have, well, the death horsemen was sure he'd experienced much, much worse.

He said nothing when she touched his hair, though his eyebrows might have risen just slightly in question as he passed the pipe back towards her. He watched how she set down her veil, able to see that it was something that she seemed to treat with fondness and value. These are things that he might not have ever noticed before, with a brain as addled as it often was, but now, he was being much more perceptive.

"Am I not allowed to just seek you out for the pleasure of your company?" He asked, letting out a deep chuckle. "Is that so strange to you, Na'ima? Do you not believe in the concept of friendship?"

And then, rather abruptly, "I had a dream last night. It was a very long dream."

eight

 

[Eight]

"On the contrary, when I am not working, sleeping is my second favorite pastime," Na'ima replied while opening the bottle of paste and easing its content into one of her cones. The pipe contained nothing out of the ordinary, it was completely average and entirely unaltered. He was lucky she hadn't decided to use one of her own creations for the day. "Sometimes I dream, and sometimes those dreams give me my best ideas. Besides, I quite like the warmth and comfort of a bed of pillows and blankets." It was likely the most she had ever shared with Wrath on a personal level, but something compelled her to share. She blamed the pipe, and the dream. Na'ima glanced Wrath's way as he offered her back her pipe, taking it between her lips hands free and letting it rest there while she went about preparing what she was messing with.

The what of her company? Na'ima blinked, looking to Wrath again with a small frown. What he was saying made no sense, so yes it did strike her as strange. She poisoned him constantly, messed with his head, brought him great pains and horrid hallucinations. Na'ima could even recall a few instances where things had been too intense for poor Wrath, and she had not felt any pity or sympathy, only professional intrigue as she noted down his symptoms. How could he want to be her friend? Na'ima took the pipe in her fingers so she could speak. "I was unaware that you were able to find pleasure in my company, all things considered," she said with a simple shrug. "Normally I do not make friends with those that I use as test subjects, and Salbei usually makes my friends for me, so yes it is strange."

She then tensed, heart skipping a beat and eyes widening briefly. Na'ima blinked, looking away to instead play with her paste and cone. A very long dream. She had had one as well.. "What was this dream?" Na'ima tapped the tip of the cone against the back of her own hand, giving it a squeeze and drawing a small circle with a few dots and swirls to test it and get it going. Good. It was all set. She reached for one of Wrath's hands, pulling at it and pushing aside whatever manner of gloves or wrappings he had covering his hand and wrist. She didn't bother asking permission as she began drawing on the back of his hand and across his knuckles, thankfully not subjecting Wrath to flowers but instead what appeared to be intricate insect designs. "Is it what inspired you to clean yourself up today?" She glanced up from her work to his face. This was likely the most interaction she had given him without drugging him since they had met, and it was oddly pleasant. It had been some time since she had drawn on another person, and even longer since she held a lengthy conversation with someone other than Salbei.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

"I find sleep difficult, sometimes." He admitted. "But these last few months I have spent with you and Sal have ensured that I have no problems in that regard...no matter how vivid some of the nightmares those substances you have fed me might give, I have never spent a single night awake." But that would hopefully end, now. He was putting an abrupt halt to the bad habits he had accumulated, no matter how difficult it might be to do so. He was strong, he could be stronger than the temptation.

He needed to be.

He listened to her words, and hummed, and shifted closer to her, gaze going to hers, a small smirk on his lips. "It is funny you should say that, about ideas. I feel the same way." A pause, and then a bark of laughter. "I quite like other things to keep me company at night. Pillows are nice, I suppose, but they do not hold you back, they do not whisper sweet things in your ear, and they do not press bare flesh against your own. There is warmth, but there is no heat." His smirk turned into a grin as the pipe was given back to Na'ima, his mind slowly coming abuzz, just lightly, with whatever the affects were of what he had just inhaled.

"Is that all I am to you, Na'ima, a test subject?" He raised an eyebrow, still seeming amused.

He shifted a little bit closer again.

He was only half paying attention to whatever she was busying herself with, finding that watching her face was much more enlightening. Something about the mention of the dream seemed to have struck a nerve with her, even if just a small one.

"It was a nice dream, I suppose. It had war, betrayal...."His voice trailed off as she took his hand, removing one of his gloves, his gaze dropping to whatever she was doing. It appeared harmless, at least, but with her, he could never be sure.

"Ah, yes, well, it may have had something to do with it, I suppose. What are you doing?" He asked, now distracted by what she was doing to his hand.

eight

 

[Eight]

Na'ima looked up. "Then I am glad to be beneficial to you, had I thought for one moment you were not at your best I would be upset." She looked down again, dabbing a long line from his knuckle up toward his wrist in a swooping swirl. "All of my notes would be useless if you were not in the condition I believed you to be."

She noticed the slight shift in her direction and golden eyes turned up from his hand to his face and the down again. Na'ima listened to his words, and slowly she took in a long breath. With each action he listed she recalled one of that woman's memories, and they were not entirely unpleasant. However were these feelings genuinely hers or a residual lingering from the dreams? It wasn't fair, and it left her confused. She hated it. Finally she let it out just as slowly as she had taken it in, frowning as she shook her head. "I wouldn't know, the only man I have shared a bed with is Salbei, and there was none of that and there was certainly none of this heat you're referring to." She narrowed her eyes, though not with anger. "If you long for heat I know of a place. Salbei took me there when I was having trouble adjusting to Halloween." Though the idea of Wrath surfing in sand amused her enough to break a smile and a chuckle out of of her. It would be terribly funny. Now she wanted to see it. "We will go sometime," she announced with a mild finality. Apparently Wrath was not being given the option to refuse.

Again she chuckled. "Less mine and more Salbei's. I do not usually keep them long, as nice as it is to have you drive me to make more potent formulas, you will eventually outgrow your usefulness as a subject."

He shifted closer again, she frowned again. Na'ima stopped what she was doing and looked up once more. "It sounds like a lovely dream for a warrior like you." He was trying to tell her something, she was desperately hoping it wasn't what she thought it was. It wasn't him. It wasn't real. "It is called henna. It is temporary, made from a plant. I often do this when my mind is...uneasy." Na'ima studied his face; the scars, his eyes, the shape of his beard and his horns. All of it startlingly similar but different at the same time. She hated this feeling. Na'ima let him go to take the pipe and have herself a long, long drag from it, letting the smoke escape from between just barely parted lips when she was done.

"Do you have someone you enjoy this heat with? Who whispers sweet nothings into your ears and clutches at you like someone desperate for something only you can give them?" Na'ima refused to look at him as she asked her question. She instead gazed at her own reflection in the hookah bottle.

xSeussi

 

[Seussi]

"It was of mutual benefit to us both, I think." He rumbled, tapping one metal clawed encased finger against a pillow lying next to him. "And if you need me for more tests in future, I am not opposed, though I am in need of less...intense treatment now, I believe."

He let out another low hum, nodding when she explained her on...romantic situation, or rather a lack thereof. Again, there was amusement in his stare. "I would share a bed with him again, if he did not feel inclined to poison my morning tea. But ah, yes, I do not think he makes a good candidate for heat." Na'ima, however....well, that remained to be seen.

And then he got really confused.

"Are you offering to take me to a brothel in Halloweentown???" He gave her a strange look, and may have then shifted a little bit away from her. "I may lower my standards when I am under the influence but....No. No, thank you." He may have shuddered a little at that point.

The conversation steered away from that subject, and Wrath latched on, though what Na'ima had to say was actually slightly disappointing, almost insulting.

"And then what will I be to you, once I have outgrown my usefulness?" he wondered, out loud, raising another eyebrow while watching what she was doing to his hand, and then arm. "It was, a very lovely dream." He admitted then, before the subject changed abruptly once again, taking him by surprise this time.

He reached forward with his free hand to pluck the pipe away from her, taking a much shorter drag on it for himself before he replied.

"Not nearly so often as I used to, or as I might like, no." He noted the way she was looking away from him as she asked, and his brows furrowed just slightly, one side of his mouth quirking up in a small smile. "Perhaps again, now that I am feeling more myself." He glanced down at his drawn on hand again, and flexed his fingers.

"Is it I that am making you uneasy, Na'ima? I could not fathom why."

eight

 

[Eight]

Na'ima gave a snort at his joke. "Do not drink anything he offers you. That is why I make a point to inform others whether their drink from me is safe of not." She paused, then gave a shrug. "Most of the time, anyway."

She blinked, turning wide eyes to Wrath. A brothel?! What was wrong with him?! "You think Salbei and I would frequent brothels?" First of all it seemed he had forgotten who he was speaking two, though hearing he was not interested in those himself was oddly...pleasing? Na'ima huffed and rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "No, no. It is simply a place we go that...reminds me of home.." Their real home. Not the Tower, and certainly not Halloween. For a moment she fell quiet, her expression falling as she looked down at her lap and let the pope be taken from her hand. She was frowning again. No, she needed something stronger. Na'ima moved, reaching for a box of bottles filled with dark powders and a pipe separate from the hookah. It was long and thin, an intricately carved black wooden pipe with gold pieces at each end. Though his bitter words reached her ears and actually caught her by surprise.

Na'ima turned to Wrath again, her brow furrowed with confusion. What was that for? "Do not cut out words, Rathsvith, I said as a subject. Was it not you who told me you want friendship and the pleasure of my company?" How was that difficult to understand? He must have hit his head at some point. Or perhaps he was having a bad reaction to the smoke. That had to be it, she didn't want to call him a moron today.

She turned away to fill her pipe, lighting it and bringing it to her lips. At first she didn't answer his question, nor did she pick up his hand again or touch him. Instead she slouched down into the pillows and looked forward away from Wrath. She was thinking very hard on how to answer. Was it him? Yes, but no. It was less him and more that which was associated with him. But was it necessarily that? It was a dream. Just a dream. But it had her mind twisted in ways it had never been twisted before, and it was both pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. Her eyes followed the trail of smoke that left her mouth, until finally she sighed and put a hand over her eyes. "You are a lying snake," she muttered unhappily. He knew full well why she was uneasy. Na'ima moved to rise to her feet and began to pace in a slow circle around the room, pipe in hand and jewelry jingling with her movements. She shook her head.

Her free hand combed through her hair as she turned to face Wrath, feeling entirely too confused for her liking. The unknown didn't normally bother her. This was different. In fact, when Na'ima next spoke, she sounded almost..defeated, as if she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else to follow by her words. "That was not me. She borrowed my name, my face, but she was not me, and he was not you. I do not call you Wrath, Rathsvith. So there you go, she was clearly not me." Na'ima didn't do nicknames. Even Salbei was only ever Mentor or Salbei, never Sal. Falair was Falair, she was Na'ima, Wrath was Rathsvith. People were given names for a reason, and she would respect that. She chewed anxiously at the end of her pipe and set into pacing again.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

If Wrath's eyebrows could have shot any higher they would have, and at her proclamation, despite the slight amendment at it's end, he barked out a loud laugh. "I do recall the first time I met you, and the drink that you gave me was, in fact, not at all safe. I believe I remember becoming quite well acquainted the the floor, and to several other of your concoctions shortly afterwards." He gave his head a shake, "You are no more trustworthy than he is."

But still, here he was, sharing a hookah with her, letting her draw her pattern of insects on his dark skin, and feeling quite comfortable with the situation at that.

"Well, it did seem a rather odd offer, considering who it was coming from." He muttered, but then waved her affront away, interested instead in what she had to say next. "Oh? Well, in that case, I would be interested in seeing this place you find to be a reminder of your old home." He watched her as she took out a different pipe, and whatever it was that she intended to fill it with, before taking another puff of the one in his hand.

"It is simply the way you said it. A subject, a tool, something to be discarded once it has lost it's usefulness. That is how you made it sound." He shrugged his shoulders, seeming to be completely at ease, even if he had managed to rile her up.

And rile her up further still, as she let slip something interesting indeed.

"I do not lie." he grinned. "I did not know if you dreamed the same dream as me. You have been acting a little off, however." Another puff was taken, and he leaned back into the pillows, relaxing further the more wound up she seemed to get, watching her as she rose to her feet, eyes following her every movement as she began to pace.

"He was not me." Wrath admitted easily with a shrug of his shoulders, fingers and thumb spinning the pipe between them, back and forth. "I am much more handsome, and much more ruthless, and, I might add, much, much better in bed." There was something in his gaze as they narrowed at her, something smouldering and heated, his voice lower than it was even usually when he spoke again. "I could even demonstrate that last if you ever desire."

Not that he expected her to in a thousand years. But, by Death, she was quite pleasing to look at. Beautiful, mysterious, endlessly intriguing. There were, he realized, many qualities of hers that she shared in common with the woman in the dream, even if there were many more that she did not.

He took another drag from the pipe, before leaving it to dangle from his lips, just as she had done before, though he was grinning around it, a bright, wide flash of teeth.

eight

omfg wrath

 

[Eight]

Na'ima huffed, twirling her pipe with delicate fingers while she looked anywhere but at Wrath. "He was an idiot," she muttered. The comment regarding his sexual prowess earned him a displeased look but she said nothing on it, instead continuing on with every line of conversation before it instead. "He believed her to be this..strong, brilliant, clever woman. She wasn't. She was simply a scared child who explained away many of her problems with pretty poetry to make it look intentional." She rolled her eyes, finally stopping in one place and facing Wrath. She wasn't going to go on about herself in comparison to that other woman, there was no need to; Na'ima was well aware that she was wonderful, she was beautiful and intelligent and had many opportunities before her that she was going to take advantage of.

"And unlike her I do not think so lowly of myself that I would attempt to chase off someone claiming they can do better than me should they try to court me." She snorted. "I am wonderful, a 'catch' as they would say. Any stallion would be lucky to have me." Na'ima waved a hand dismissively. "However I do not just sleep with a man simply because oh I feel like I love you." Her eyes narrowed. It had been twenty minutes. Na'ima kept track. Twenty minutes and they had had sex. Finally she returned to her spot beside Wrath, settling into the nest of pillows and glancing down at the pipe in her hands. She frowned, looking his way without turning her head too much. Ugh, that grin.

Na'ima was quiet again, thinking. She took a long drag of her pipe and then watched the smoke that left her lips, lips that were still set in a small frown. Wrath was being an a**, as the scarelings of Halloween would put it. It helped to calm the lingering feelings of love and desire she had been feeling from the dream..it was either that or the smoking, likely both. But it left her in a less uneasy and confused state, and she was beginning to feel more herself. She could think with a clearer head now. Wrath before was as pathetic as the man in the dream, though not quite in the same way; he was a mighty warrior, but instead of being devoted to a sad little woman he was addicted to forgetting all thought..though what thoughts he was trying to forget she never actually questioned him on. What did it matter to her why he did what he did? His muscles were thinning, it wasn't something that went unnoticed, of course she kept track of his condition in her notes. Luckily any damage done to his physique was still fresh enough that he could recover with a bit of effort on his part. He wasn't taking care of himself either, Na'ima frequently associated him with being drunk, high, or simply drugged at all times. He was terribly irresponsible with his own self. But today was different, except for what she had shared with him he seemed to be of clear mind, he had cleaned up, seemed healthy enough. The conversation with him was not entirely unpleasant, she seemed to be the one accidentally insulting him more than him annoying her as he often did. And he had come straight to her after having the dream, it seemed. Was it to rub it in her face? To irritate her? Or was it truly as he said, he simply wanted to be in her company? She rubbed her lips together, her pipe held gently between her teeth. How serious was he?

Finally she looked up at him, dropping the pipe from her lips to catch it in her hand and twirl it in her fingers. "Court me."

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

"I will not debate that fact." He shrugged, also agreeing that the man from his dream was somewhat daft. "Though he did do some things right, in the end his sense of nobility and righteousness were his downfall. He could have been something so much greater. Greater than a Great Knight, but he could not just dismiss the call of Protection." He let out a disgusted sound, his grin fading as he took another drag from the hookah, slowly exhaling.

He let his gaze continue to rest on her, still watching her every move, her every expression. He let her have her words, an eyebrow lifting, a light smirk on his lips from time to time. She was going on about how great she was, and while he could not exactly disagree with her, he could not completely agree either. She was something all right, but what was that worth to him?

Certainly not as much as she seemed to think it should be. The smirk lifted, and he snorted. "Who needs love? You can sleep with a stallion, or a mare, because it simply feels good to do so. Sometimes, you can choose to sleep with them several times, but it still does not need to have actual meaning."

There was silence between them, then, and he wondered just what it was that she was thinking about. Certainly not of taking him up on his offer, he was sure! No, that was not something the Na'ima, the one that he thought that he knew, would do.

He had just taken another drag from the pipe when she spoke again, and what she said left him choking and coughing, his smirk wiped away by the incredulous look on his face.

"You..." He managed. "Are you serious?" He was beating on his chest, letting out a few more coughs, which were soon punctuated by laughter.

eight

 

[Eight]

"Yes, well, you should know well enough by now I do nothing without a reason or meaning. So that leaves that sort of activity out of the question for now," Na'ima said with a shrug. If she was going to expend that kind of energy and make herself vulnerable to someone in any matter she was going to make it count.

However, Wrath's reaction to her demand was mildly surprising as well as fairly concerning, but her thoughts never showed on her face. She merely waited, her expression impassive and patient for him to settle down, that is until he started to laugh. Na'ima rolled her eyes and took a drag from her pipe, waiting for him to calm down enough for her to be able to speak without raising her voice over his.

"Yes, actually. I am."

Seussi