[PRP] ...No. (Wrath/Na'ima)

[Eight]

This was much better than living in that filthy Halloween town 'reserve'. She'd hated every moment of that place, well..almost every moment. The sand dunes had been nice. Na'ima smiled fondly as she looked down at a notebook she held in her hand, her other hand jotting down notes in a scrawl that was barely legible. There were diagrams and symbols, a drawing of a locust or three as if idly drawn while not paying any attention to what she was doing.

The jingling of jewelry announced Na'ima's presence long before she actually opened the tent flap and entered, inviting herself into Salbei's home without so much as a greeting. "Salbei, I think you will be pleased to hear the progress I made last night," she finally said with a bit of cheer to her otherwise gentle voice without looking up from her book.  

[Seussi]

Salbei wasn't currently home, and so Na'ima would receive no answer from the tall skeletal thin man shrouded in too many layers of laundry, but instead would likely hear the sound of shattering glass, only a moment before a loud, rumbling curse was spoken, though at a volume that was more akin to a shout.

And then a 6'7" man appeared, pushing his way through a curtain that seemed to be used as a partition between rooms. He appeared bleary eyed, and stumbled a little as he stepped into the main living area, a flask in his hand and a curious look on his face.

Which soon broke out into a smile.

"Salbei isn't home. But perhaps I can be of assistance to a lovely mare such as yourself?" He asked, words just faintly slurred around their edges.

Eight

 

[Eight]

Na'ima lifted her head when she heard the shattering of glass, she waited and listened. No coughing, just a shout. She rolled her eyes. Clumsy old stallion. "Are you all right in there?" She called out with mild disinterest. He didn't sound hurt or anything, and his feet were skeletal anyway he'd be fine. Na'ima turned a page in her book while she waited for an answer, but instead her answer came in a voice very much not Salbei's.

She lifted her head sharply to see who it was, bright eyes thickly lined with dark khol were the only part of her face visible and uncovered by a veil. At first they were wide with surprise, however they quickly narrowed. "Who are you?" No, she wasn't interested in his compliment, nor was she interested in his help outside of why was he here?

Seussi

Requoting to say I forgot I still had that art of Wrath open and when I closed a tab it automatically went to his tab annnnnd my mother was very surprised by him. Thanks, Chrome.

 

[Seussi]

So he might have assumed she was lovely (though he honestly thought pretty much everyone that he met was). Those eyes of hers were certainly quite striking, especially with the dark make up that only made them appear brighter. Wrath's own eyes were lined with khol as well, though it was slightly smudged, messier, as if it had been done a more than a day previously and had yet to be redrawn.

Not at all taken aback by her sharp attitude towards his presence, he gave her a wide grin before replying. "I am Rathsvith, of death." He lifted his flask to take a quick swig, letting out a breath of satisfaction before wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.

"And you?"

eight

omfggggg /cackles

 

[Eight]

"Na'ima Saab, of Famine. Do you realize you are in the home of a Famine clam horseman or are you too drunk to figure out where home is?" She replied in a clipped tone. Salbei had never made mention of this man, so as far as she knew he was an unwelcome intruder.

Seussi

And then they banged and made adorable pony baby together THE END

 

[Seussi]

Well wasn't she just a feisty one? Wraths tooth filled grin never left his face.

"Na'ima Saab." He repeated, the name rolling off of his tongue in a much more eloquent fashion then his appearance suggested he was capable of. "How lovely."

He took another drink while she continued, and then answered in kind.

"I am aware!" More smiling, "As I am also aware of just whose home this is, specifically! Mine." The words were still slurred, but were somehow almost intelligible despite that.

Who was intruding now, Na'ima?

eight

 

[Eight]

Her look of disgust went woefully unseen behind her veils, as did her sweet smile when he claimed the home as his. Na'ima huffed put a soft laugh that had her veil fluttering and stepped toward him, her movements accompanied by the jingle of jewelry. "Ah! My sincerest apologies! May I?" She held a hand out for the flask. If given to her she would take it in one delicate hand, the other coming up to unhook her veil so her mouth was free. She switched hands, taking a generous swig of the drink, and then lowered it with a little hum. "Not bad." Her thumb idly traced the lip and neck of the flask before she offered it back to him.

Dark lips pouted. "But..I don't think that's quite right. This is Salbei's home, and last I checked you're not him." Bright golden amber eyes looked his way, waiting.

She hoped his immunity was lacking. The flask had been laced with a harmless paralytic she hoped would send him to the ground not unconscious but at the very least unable to stand up for a few hours.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

His gaze flicked up and down her carefully as she advanced, and he almost thought about taking a step backwards even if his smile never flickered on his face. There was something about the fact that her face was mostly obscured that made him nervous, her intent not well revealed in her eyes, and if she was familiar enough with the tents true owner to enter it without first waiting to see if he was even home, chances were she meant him about as much ill intent as Salbei often did.

Which was quite a lot, usually.

He was hesitant to give her the flask, but he did, giving her a nod of his head. "If it is what the lovely mare desires than who am I to deny her." When the flask was out of his hands he spread his arms and bowed to her at the waist, as if to say that he was completely at her service, before barking out a laugh.

"Not bad, she says. Well, it is certainly better than nothing." Which was all he had, really. Absolutely nothing.

He took the flask back as it was handed to him, staring at her now uncovered face for a bit too long before blinking slowly.

"Right, yes. That guy. Well." He took another drink from his flask. "You see, I have a bit of an arrangement with hi---" He began, but than, suddenly, something did not quite feel right. It started with a numbness that started in his toes and his fingers, that quickly began to spread.

"Really?" He asked with a sigh, and then succumbed, with a very resigned expression on his face that lasted only as long as the paralytic would let it before that also became slack, crumpling to the floor.

Eight

 

[Eight]

"I prefer tea and a good smoke, personally," she said with a slight shrug. It was rare for her to not start her day that way, usually a most special occasion. The scent did not linger on her today, for example.

"An arrangement? He's never mentioned you before." Her tone took a fairly pouty quality then. This would have been nice to know beforehand, mentor! Perhaps it had slipped the old goat's mind. Love him dearly, but sometimes...sigh. Na'ima shook her head.

He collapsed and she smiled. "I wasn't sure if that would work. Usually my subjects are smaller and weaker. Thank you for your generous contribution." Na'ima clapped her hands together and got down on the floor beside him. "Now, what is your arrangement with my mentor?"

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

Ugh. Paralyzed. Now that was a familiar sensation that he did not appreciate, something that Sal was more than aware of, and now this woman, this woman, who so closely resembled the old pile of bones and rags in personality and wile, had come along and forced him into this position.

Instead of answering her question, he swallowed hard, grateful at least that he could still speak.

"It is possible that my consumption of alcohol and....other things...has made me weaker." He rolled his eyes up towards her, and would have smiled if he could have. "You know, if all you had wanted was to get me on my back, you could have asked."

That most definitely did not answer her question, but he found that at the moment, he really didn't care.

eight

 

[Eight]

Na'ima hovered over the stallion with a sweet smile. One thin hand reached down to tap his chin, turning his head left and then right even while he talked, like a cat with a toy. "Possibly. I'll make note of that." His other comment didn't even get a bat of the eye. "Don't worry, it's harmless. You'll be fine in..oh, two hours? Possibly one given your size and how little of it I gave you."

A sharp nail traced the shapes of his tattoo, bright eyes looking it up and down. "A scorpion..how interesting. Are horsemen of Death normally interested in insects? I always thought that was more Famine territory~." She pouted her lips and leaned over him. "What is your arrangement with my mentor?"  

[Seussi]

He didn't like this. He didn't like being helpless like this while she was able to move his head from side to side or do gods knew what else to his body. A bony, grumpy old coot Sal might have been but at least he and Wrath had set boundaries for this type of behavior! She was entirely too unpredictable for the death horsemen's liking.

"Oh well then, that's reassuring!" He sounded as cheerful as he could make himself sound, though he was able to roll his eyes and snort through his nose directly after it was said.

"Touching me too now? Again, had you just asked, dear lady, I would have been happy to reciprocate." Again, ignoring her questions. He didn't owe her any answers after how she treated him!

eight

 

[Eight]

She shook her head. "Answer. My questions." Na'ima was only going to ask nicely once.  

[Seussi]

If Wrath could have shrugged his shoulders, he would have. Instead she would have to settle for another rolling of his eyes.

"Ask him yourself."  

[Eight]

Her eyes narrowed again. She didn't like that answer. "You're not quite in a position to deny me what I want. I have a whole bag of untested vials here."