Chains
Fleshling
Mistress Of Awesomeness
Posts: 133
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Post by Chains on Feb 27, 2009 17:53:24 GMT -5
Chains returned Anya’s smirk with a white flash of his own teeth. “I’m charmed to meet you, Anya,” he said, his tone oil and sugar and the smooth roll of molten gold. “You may call me Chains. It far trumps being addressed as “stranger” but falls far short of being called “friend.” He neglected to mention that friends were, in his mind, facets of self-dependency and avatars of weakness. Like a rather charming angler, he baited his hook and watched her reaction as he dangled choice words in front of her. There was nothing innocent about his courtesies; he fished to catch. And, like her, he could tell that he was in the presence of something not wholly human. It intrigued him. Before he could say anything else however, the barkeep returned with a shot glass of dark amber liquid. “My thanks,” Chains offered to the individual’s expressionless face. He raised the glass grandly and held its contents up to the light. “No time quite like the present,” he quipped to Anya, tipping her a glittering wink, before shooting the contents of the glass.
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Post by Tig on Feb 27, 2009 18:13:23 GMT -5
Anya watched him curiously, already amused by him. "Chains," she whispered, testing his name as it rolled off her tongue. She turned her body around in her seat, so she could lean her back against the bar. "Well, then, Chains, it is by far a pleasure to meet you," she purred, already fascinated with the man. As a were-cat, she was easily amused, easily pleased. And Chains definitely caught her attention.
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Chains
Fleshling
Mistress Of Awesomeness
Posts: 133
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Post by Chains on Feb 27, 2009 18:36:22 GMT -5
Whatever was in the glass had strength enough to scald Chains’ tongue and induce a flaming trail of pain all down the back of his throat and into his stomach. By pure effort of will, he managed not to choke it down but there was a tightness about his eyes that hinted at the potency of the liquor. He took a deeper than average breath to savor the kick and the burn, filling his lungs with the dry air of the bar. As quickly as the agony had come, it was subsiding: leaving him with nothing more than ghostly coils of warmth in his stomach. “Well now,” he said once he could speak again, “That was…an experience.” Although he didn’t say it, he had the impression that this particular brand of alcohol would prove almost on the verge of sensory over-stimulus for humans. Was it pure ignorance or a streak of displaced malevolence that had landed the shot glass in front of him? “Anya,” he breathed, pausing to delicately wipe the worst of the adolescent tears from his eyes. “The pleasure is all mine. I would assure you further of that, but I find myself a bit short of breath. Who are your companions?” He looked past her to the two humans on her opposite side.
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Post by Tig on Feb 27, 2009 18:49:40 GMT -5
Anya glanced up to him when he reacted to his drink. She smiled at him. The burn he felt would pass eventually. She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears. She lightly tapped her fingers on her knees. "Take it easy," she told him. "It'll get easier." She glanced over to the humans beside her. "Johnny and Veronica," she stated, then returned her attention back to Chains.
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Post by citizenmike on Feb 27, 2009 22:29:16 GMT -5
Johnny and Veronica turned at their sights to the stranger Anya had been talking to. Engrossed with the bracelet on Johnny's hand, they neglected to see him.
Johnny extended his hand to him, "I'm Johnny, beside me's Veronica Roth... And you are?"
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Chains
Fleshling
Mistress Of Awesomeness
Posts: 133
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Post by Chains on Feb 27, 2009 22:39:13 GMT -5
To shake hands with him, Chains would have had to lean almost across Anya and there were few thoughts as unpleasant to him as casual contact with others. The touch of flesh against flesh was sacred: reserved only for the transfer, induction, reception, and creation of pain. To touch and be touched without agony was blasphemous. So Chains merely favored Johnny with the extension of the same shark-toothed grin he had turned upon the barkeep and upon Anya in turn. “Charmed,” he said, ignoring the proffered hand. “You may call me Chains.” His attention was acute and undivided. To the casual observer, it seemed that he was giving the three individuals at the counter an untoward amount of respect, but the reality was he was beginning the arduous process of dissecting them in his mind. What makes you tick? He thought, looking from one to the other. What makes you hurt? His fingers itched. He remembered the feel of feathers beneath his hands, of the tearing sensation of tendons and ligaments wrenched from their joints, the sharp snap of broken bones. His fingers itched
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Post by Tig on Feb 27, 2009 22:58:14 GMT -5
Anya licked at her lips, sitting back quietly as she listened to them greet each other. She distractedly felt like taking a run, but was there a forest, or some place secluded near by. She would have to do some exploring. She smirked playfully and shifted her gaze back to Chains. There was something about him. She couldn't tell if he was good, or evil, she couldn't even tell what he was. He seemed... complicated. She supposed she would know in time. She could be patient.
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Post by citizenmike on Feb 27, 2009 23:10:26 GMT -5
Johnny took Chains' greeting for what it was and nodded.
"Not a lot of friendly types on this city.", Veronica whispered to Johnny's ear.
Johnny chuckled and nodded in agreement.
Johnny looked back at Chains and asked, "What you drinkin' there?"
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Chains
Fleshling
Mistress Of Awesomeness
Posts: 133
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Post by Chains on Feb 27, 2009 23:16:36 GMT -5
“You know,” Chains glanced at the glass in his hand remembering the potency of the liquid that had been within it. “If I had to make an educated guess, I’d say it’s a combination of arsenic and alchemists’ piss. But that is mere speculation.” He set the glass down with the effluent grace so characteristic of his actions and folded his hands down on the countertop of the bar. “What brings you fine people together on this night of nights?” he asked. “Chance? Coincidence? Or have I stumbled upon a private meeting of sorts?”
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Post by Tig on Feb 27, 2009 23:46:53 GMT -5
Anya twirled a strand of her dark hair around her index finger. She pushed herself from her seat, and took a step away from them, feeling like a cornered cat. She hated tight spaces, and people all around her. She had a fear of crowds, and pitch darkness, despite the fact that she can see very well in the dark. "We met by chance, I suppose."
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Chains
Fleshling
Mistress Of Awesomeness
Posts: 133
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Post by Chains on Feb 27, 2009 23:58:55 GMT -5
Chains considered her with a cutting intensity. There was something about this one that was wholly absent from the other two. When he thought about it for a moment, he realized the missing ingredient, the extra spice. Tension. This Anya was rife with it. Oh my, he thought. That is just divine. It was like a bright line of white fire amid the gray of everything else. A breath of fresh air amid the staleness of the rest of it. He wondered how much he could push her. Un-nerve her. Edge her from tension, into fear, into panic, into misery. He wondered how much of her mind he could unhinge and the possibility was far more exciting than it should have been. Too long, he lamented to himself. It has been too long. The last individual he had turned his attentions to had been the most prideful man in the city. With extreme patience and a beautiful eye for detail, he had reduced his victim to a broken mass of flesh within a fortnight. He had worked backwards on that one, mutilating the mind first and then turning it loose on the body with gratifying results. Of course, he had paid for that with several spears through his sides and a noose around his neck but those were mere details in the grand scale of things. And this time… He felt the cravings for a repeat performance… "Leaving?" he asked her casually.
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Post by Tig on Feb 28, 2009 0:17:42 GMT -5
Anya needed fresh air. She watched Chains, something was tell her to leave, not to trust him. Her instincts wanted to flee or attack. She could felt her panther moving within her, it was restless and wanted control. She clenched and unclenched her fists. Was was wrong with her? She took a breath and steadied her gaze on him. "Perhaps," she replied softly. He can't be trusted. Why? Her eyes narrowed, as she studied him, trying to figure out what and who he was. She had no chance of figuring him out unless she asked him.
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Chains
Fleshling
Mistress Of Awesomeness
Posts: 133
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Post by Chains on Feb 28, 2009 0:31:20 GMT -5
“Mmm. I too perhaps have overstayed my welcome,” Chains admitted. “I merely came for a drink but the city beckons me now. It begs to be explored. I think it’s desperate for discovery on some level. But,” he paused masterfully, letting a small tension of his own build around the words. “Aren’t we all?” His eyes held hers. “I also think, and common sense dictates, that only a fool lets such a beautiful creature as yourself slip away without indulging them in a drink. Barkeep!” Chains gestured and the man drifted over again with the listless step. “Two more glasses of whatever it was that you gave me last time.” As the man turned away, Chains looked back to Anya. “True it might be alchemists’ piss, but a toast should be made over a good, strong, forceful vintage, wouldn’t you agree?” When the man returned with the two full shot glasses, Chains stood and proffered hers with a flourish. “So. I propose we toast.” His smile curled lazily about his face, dancing in the wells of his inhuman eyes. It was an old trick he learned back when he had been truly young. People divulged things in a toast they normally didn’t get to in casual conversation. He intended to give as good as he got in this aspect. If she indulged him with a personal toast, he would do the same: for what small good that would do her. And then he would be on his way, out into the impatient city and the shadows that moved in the night.
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Post by Tig on Feb 28, 2009 0:53:06 GMT -5
Anya watched him cautiously. The fact that he was offering her a drink calmed her just slightly. She couldn't pass up the drink. She tilted her head at him, accepting the drink when offered. "How generous of such a man," she purred, a smirk upon her lips.
She was startled when he mentioned proposing a toast. She kept herself locked up, only disclosing anything personal to only those who are really close to her, and gained her trust after several years. This man was no exception. "To.. good health."
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Chains
Fleshling
Mistress Of Awesomeness
Posts: 133
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Post by Chains on Feb 28, 2009 1:09:26 GMT -5
An acute observer would have noticed how Chains’ smile dragged out a little at the word “man,” but his mirth vanished into attentiveness when Anya began her toast. He noted her hesitation and knew before she even began to speak that it would be a vague little proposal at best. Despite the fact that he was correct, he tipped his glass back and joined her in swallowing a generous mouthful of the liquid fire. This time, knowing what to expect, the burn was less…which wasn’t to say that it was tame by any account; he still had to breathe deeply to counteract the burning. But he regained his voice much more quickly this time around and his eyes weren’t watering as he raised the glass once more and said, “To good health, and to…merciful time.” He shot her the last wink of the evening but his eyes never left her face as he finished the remainder of his drink unflinchingly
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