Private Tales A Silver Tongue Turned Gold

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Tal let out a hiss as Sylvie stabbed her needle into his flesh for the first time. Eyes squeezing shut and a quiet curse echoed in a language none of the women understood. "No."

He said in clear denial.

Fun was one thing, but there was always another reason to what he did. Nothing had simply one objective. nothing was only for one plan. There was always another angle, always something that he needed, wanted. That was how it worked.

"I'll be fine." Another bite of his tongue as the Witch continued her stitching. "No need to delay the f-FUCK me!"

He cursed. "What do you think I am, a side of beef?"

The witch smirked up at Tal.

"I zought you vould be a bit...hartier, no?"​

It was said with such innocence that one almost might have thought her genuine.
 
Inara snickered at Sylvie's comment. Perhaps these witches weren't that bad after all.

"He dishes it out but he does not enjoy taking it," Inara joined in the poking of Tal.

Her own smile was innocent and there was a split second where she realized that she was at his mercy tonight.

Tal was likely to make her regret that comment because it one hundred percent rang true.
 
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Tal offered Inara a sneer, a rare moment where he didn’t return a barb of his own.

The pain in his side wasn’t all that bad, but that wasn’t the problem. He felt utterly annoyed that he’d had to endure it at all. Teeth gnashed together as the twin finished sowing up his side, Sybille speaking up once again as she looked at the faceless.

“And zat…zing?”​

She said, clearly staring at the body.

Tal followed her eyeline for a moment, gently touching the sewn up wound. A hiss escaping through his lips as he pushed himself up to his feet. ”Eckheart will take care of it.”

The Underboss remarked, glancing between the two twins who seemed almost disappointed in the answer. They had clearly wanted the creature for their own designs. Whatever those were.

”Well girls, I can’t thank you enough.” He glanced at the blood scattered around the room. ”Do me a favor and clean this up, yeah?”

The tone of his words made it clear, this was not a favor. Both witches were beholden to him, like cats on a leash. ”We have a party to attend.”
 
Inara looked at Tal and sighed deeply. It was extremely dramatic and not at all quiet.

“I am both nervous and excited to see what you have picked out for me, Tal,” she said as she walked over to him. “Are we heading upstairs for my outfit?”
 
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"Hm?" Tal remarked, bloody hand drawing through his hair.

It was clear that the fight had taken more out of him than he would have openly admitted. There was a slight wince to his every movement, a slowing of how he did things. The cut in his side was sewn, but the blade's effects still lingered.

"No." He told her. "There's a seamstress..."

Tal trailed off. "We'll visit her, and then you can get nice and pretty."

The Underboss shot Inara a quick wink, then glanced down at the Faceless for a moment. His eyes lingered, and then finally he stepped away.

"I need a shower first." He was after all, mostly covered in blood. "We have the time."
 
Inara could tell that Tal was struggling and she wanted to help him but she knew he would allow no such thing. He was stubborn and a pain in her ass.

She grimaced at the mentioned of the seamstress. That sounded even more worrying than she had previously thought. Inara simply rubbed her forehead with her thumb and forefinger before taking a seat in the single chair that had survived the carnage.

"Go shower. I will supervise the witches and their cleaning," she could feel their glares on her but she didn't care.

She was not really going to supervise them. She just needed a few minutes to relax before the night got crazy for her.
 
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Tal chuckled. "Oh sure."

The Underboss said with a wave of his hand.

"See to the girls." As he began to climb the steps it was obvious just how much Tal actually did struggle. Every step seemed to be shaky, his grip upon the railing might as well spelling a letter of death. "Just don't kill one another."

He remarked as he continued to climb.

It was almost thirty full minutes before the Tyrian came back down the stairs.

This time he was dressed an an immaculate suit. Clearly crafted and designed by only the most wondrous tailors of Alliria itself, Tal was the very image of noble and wealth. He stepped down into the warehouse, straightening the tie around his neck. "I think we're ready, yes?"

He asked, as though every ounce of exhaustion was forgotten.
 
The twins cleaned up the mess and Inara sat in the chair going over the many possibilities of torture that Tal had in mind for tonight. She did not notice how much time had passed by the time he reemerged into the warehouse.

Inara stood when she heard his footsteps and she let out an audible shocked gasp at his attire. He looked gorgeous. Better than she would like to admit. She had already thought him handsome but now he had cleaned up so nicely that she almost forgot he was an Underboss.

"Yes, let's go," she said as she walked over to his side. "You look very nice tonight, Tal."

Nice was simple and the truth...in a way. It counted. No need to tell him what she really thought of his look right now.
 
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The Tyrian smiled. "Why thank you."

A surprising lack of mockery flickered through his tone, as though he actually meant was he was saying. A rare trait when it came to him, but then again he had already been full of surprises in the past few days.

Maybe tonight it would be more.

"Let's go get you dressed, shall we?" He said, slowly reaching out a hand to offer Inara a leg up. "We have a very busy night."

His tongue clicked. "I wouldn't was us to miss even a second."

Not tonight. Not for any reason at all.
 
Inara let out a long sigh as she took Tal's hand.

"I am both terrified and excited, Tal," Inara said as they walked.

She was both. She had no idea what this man had thought of but it would certainly not be innocent. She knew that much and that made her feel a certain way. Not a bad certain way either.

"So what is this party about?"
 
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"The party is hosted by Jin Hiroshi." Not a name that Inara was likely to recognize.

He was from the Hiroshi clan of Dornoch, or at least he had once been. The Dynast had exiled him nearly ten years ago, and had sent him running to Alliria. Since then he had done quite well for himself in the trade of certain...illicit goods.

Not drugs, but compounds of magics and things of that nature. Tal had made it a priority to befriend him, despite the mans...eccentricities. "He is known for his lavish Socials."

Tal looked at Inara briefly.

"All sorts come to them, from as far away as the Empire." He mused as they made their way through the city streets. Eventually arriving at a small seamstress shop, Tal waltzing in and calling out a name.

"Ah! Talmanese. So good to see you!"​

A lovely old woman said in greeting, walking over to Tal and kissing his cheeks.

"Is this the lovely woman you're squeezing into that costume?"​

The woman asked with a smile.
 
Inara had no idea who the host was that Tal was speaking of but this sounded like it would certainly be an interesting night.

Once they had arrived and greetings had been made, Inara simply gave Tal the look when the woman asked if she was the one squeezing into the costume.

Gods, this was a terrible idea.

“That would be me,” she replied simply while slowly turning her glare from Tal and replacing it with a smile for the seamstress.
 
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"Lovely, lovely."​

The old woman said with a smile, glancing towards Inara for a moment as though she were calculating size. After a few seconds she nodded her head, and then motioned for both of them to follow after her.

Tal just smiled and stepped quickly within her own footprints, moving along with the old seamstress as they maneuvered through racks of clothing and stacks of folded cloth. Eventually they found themselves in the back of the store.

"I'll have to sow you in of course, fitting something like this isn't easy."​

As the old woman spoke Inara would see the costume Tal had chosen for it.

It was little more than a few bolts of lace and silk gently knitted together. An outfit that would have made even most dancers turn a shade of scarlet. The sort of costume only a woman with utter confidence would wear.

The kind which hid little, and suggested even more. "Perfect."

Tal commented with a smile.
 
Inara followed the pair towards the back of the store and as soon as she saw the outfit, she turned to Tal in outrage.

Yes, he had dropped hints.

Yes, she knew he was evil.

No, she had not expected this. The lack of cloth to cover her bits and pieces was astounding.

"Why don't I just go naked, Tal? Fuck. That is not a costume. That is barely anything!"

Why had she suggested going naked?! Tal would be the one to take her up on that offer.
 
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Tal blinked. "Naked?"

He asked, as though he didn't quite understand the indignation that was now flickering through her. His face a mask of utter and complete innocence.

"Of course not." He gestured to the outfit. "No elegance to that, but this?"

A smile touched his lips. "Well you wouldn't believe how much it cost. Don't you like it?"

The Underboss asked innocently. "I think you'll look lovely."
 
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