Private Tales Ink and Thread

[Zari'to Honi]

He was formless. He moved in such a jarring fashion it was a wonder he even knew his next move. A step forward, two steps back, a foot planted on the wall to send him flying in one direction and a hand used to push downward from the ceiling. A spin here, a roll there and it would seem there was no part of the hallway he didn't touch. Two steps back, body dipped low, the whisper of a blade kissing the space in between but not meeting flesh.

A smile given. Wide with delight. Taunting in truth.

His opponent was a skilled sellsword, famed for the hundred challenges he issued and won against realm renowned fighters. All who stepped to his blade quivered, and those who didn't would after his first swing.

Not. Him.

Rush forward, lunging to slide upon his knees. Twisting as he passed by. A playful smack to the mans rear before vaulting back into a relaxed hand stand then back upon here feet.

For him, it was a game. It was a wild dance.

"That all?" His taunt, heavy with contempt. He wanted a challenge. He had not been given one.

A growl, animal like from the warrior. He did not like being taunted. He did not like being doubted. He rushed forward, sword a blur as he launched his attack. The dancer once moved moved about, playful at first though his smile soon faded. The warrior was growing frustrated but unlike others the dancer had faced, his moves were not growing slower. Sloppier... Dull. The warrior was moving faster. Strikes sharper. He did not like be taunted. He did like being challenged though.

The hall was cramp, the owner of the estate having packed most of his belongings for a move to a riverside manse. Candles which normally lit the corridor had been put out, save for two which cast a warm glow upon the tight space. Wooden crates crowded rooms and doorways, some nailed shut and others left open with treasures packed in and cushioned with dry straw.

Sneaking in had been easy going, the dancer coming in from the roof. For others, avoiding the sentries which patrolled the grounds would have been a chore. Scaling the estate walls and the estate itself, a mission. For him. Child's play.

Of course he could have completed his goal in moments with out no one the wiser. The first half had gone off with out a hitch, so to say. The rich merchant who owned the estate laid at his desk, eyes bulging and foaming at the mouth. Around his neck, a thin red like where the cord bit into his pale skin choked him. Scratch marks riddled his neck as well from his vain attempt to claw the cord, spoiling what otherwise would have been a clean murder. He didn't care though. He didn't take pride in the murders. Not like some he knew. He did it because he had to. It was simple.

Simple like gathering the documents he had been ordered to take. Which he did.

Simple like escaping with out rousing suspicion... Which he did not do.

The entire wing had been cleared, guards laid dead, most inflicted with killing blows from their own weapons.

He didn't care for the killing. He was not that sadistic. Riches yes... The pleasures of flesh yes... Teasing people yes... Killing never... The thrill of fighting... yes. If he could live the life of a fighter for coin if he would. But the treads of fate did not weave that destiny for him.

It was this love however that caused him to search out the wing of the estate. For if the owner was here, his body guard would be close.

It took him surprisingly long to find him and once he did, he was not impressed... Not until the man grew angry. He was slightly taller then himself. His build similar to the dancer. He was a man who was known for being fast and skilled with his curved falchion. His hair was famous for being as black as the void itself, pulled tightly back into a long braid which trailed his back. His mustache was long and pointed, a hallmark to his image.

The dancer thought this nothing more then the cries of a man begging for attention. But as the warrior began to press him, he saw him for what he was. A challenger.

His own blade left it's sheath for the first time that night and flashed against the falchion. The blow was numbing, the dancer not expecting the power behind it as he faulted back. Two steps and twist, wall used for leverage and a attack lashed downward as he flipped forward.

The warrior blocked it, teeth gritted as his blade met the attack and his hand planted on the dull side of his sword absorbed the force.

Eyes wide with delight, fanged teeth displayed through the smile. Even as the warrior tossed him aside and he vanished down the hall and collided with a crate.

Pain along his shoulder as the wood bit into his flesh. A bruise would blossom from that. Proof of the fun had.

The crate itself was knocked back, edging clipping the sconce mounted to the wall and causing the candle to fall into the crate. In the blink of a eye, the hay was ablaze.

"Finally you are awake." The dancer spoke, voice light and excited.

"Die!" The warrior cried in response.

The pair danced anew, the warrior pulling from the experience of his many battles, the dancer relying on sheer skill. Each time the warrior believed he figured out what the dancer would do, he would change up flow of attack and evade. He struck from odd angles and moments. When he should have evaded, he slipped in and attacked. When the warrior was inviting, he moved away.

Still the warrior fought on, though he was panting and his body now played host to countless small cuts over his frame. The dancer however was not left unscathed. The warrior was fast and though he found he was not quick enough to land a clean hit, he was able to over power the dancer. He had thrown him about countless times and now the dancer joined him in heavy breathing, bruised, and battered. And still smiling.

Smoke choked the halls as the flames spread. They had navigated to a side room, for the window was open and the air fresher. Below, retainers and guards tried their best to reach them, for they knew not the fate of their master, however the flames kept them at bay. He would not have it any other way. This would forever be their private moment.

"You... You will be honored in my memories." The dancer said with as he bowed to the warrior.

"Die you filthy cat!" The warrior cried as he charged forward though his momentum died quickly as he body was seemingly tangled in some unseen forced.

Soon he was launching forward, and hanging off the floor, appearing to hover in air as something constricted around him. His face was a mask of horror as he tried to figure out what strange and dark force prevented him from slaying his foe. Soon his arms were bound to his side and he sword clattered to the ground.

"Wha.. What?" He managed to get out as thin fibers snaked their way across his body.

Flexible as the thinnest thread yet as strong as steal.

"We could have done this all night... We would have... You use mana to power your body... Despite your age you move faster as the fight draws on.. Grew stronger with each strike... Modeled after a berserker... With out the mindless rage. Brilliant.. You would have fought until the building collapsed around us... You found a equal... I found a challenge... We could have done this till either of us dropped dead... But I do not have the luxury of dying beside you.. I have much work to do and a date, so I must away now. Your distraction is welcomed though.. But despite how skilled you are.. You didn't seem my magic.. That saddens me."

He slowly moved closer to the window, sword sheath while his other hand running along a thing threat that was anchored to the window sill. For a moment it glowed as he fed mana into it.

"Zari'to Honi... The last gift anyone will ever bestow upon you honored warrior. May the heavens sing your praise." He said with that wide smile that was so big his golden eyes couldn't help but close. He tilted his head to the side as he bid the man a farewell, like a child saying goodbye to a loved one.

The warriors eyes were wide as he struggled against his binds to no avail. Honi struck the thread and it thrummed, in place like a cord struck on a lute. The binds tighten and the warrior was no more, a spray of blood marking the end of his existence.

Task complete, Honi shouldered the bag which hugged his body, checking to feel it was still in place and vanished into the darkness.

Outside, nestled in the folds of a neighboring manse two sets of eyes watched the fleeing burglar with great interest.

"It's starting." One said to the other, parting words that sent them on their way. One to report, the other to watch.

***Three Hours Later***

"Diiiiiiiiia!" Honi pounded on her door, impatient as ever.

As always, his appearance marked three sure things for her. The guarantee of work , his flirtatious nature, and a treat.

"Diiiiiia!" He called again in his sing song voice.

When she opened the door, she would be in for a sight... And perfume. He was dressed in black garb, a beautiful woven robe with a floral pattern woven into the front and back which were cherry blossoms of red and white.The ends were singed and he was covered in soot. His eyes, slightly red, only seemed to make those golden orbs stand out moment. Dark smudges stained his redden skin and he was apparently missing a earring from the matching set he wore, one red gem dangling from his large cat like ear on his right side but the other absent, save for the golden ring that began the piece of jewelry. His hair was messing and dark, even the strands painted red presently. And then there was the smell... As if he were made of smoke itself.

For someone in such a state, the way he smiled as he waited for her painted the picture of someone filled with joy. And given what he carried, he had every reason to be.

"I've got chooooolate!"

Ynsidia

 

[Ynsidia]

Ynsidia opened the door of her crooked tower, knowing the man who called (as no one else called her "Dia"), and looked Honi up and down. She didn't zero in on the goodies right away, but processed the man before her meticulously...knowingly. She huffed a sigh while shaking her head.

She had no clue what Honi had put himself through THIS TIME, and was too tired to guess.

Many adventures had passed since she'd last seen him. The proverbial riot she started in Vel Anir. Her blunder into Pandemonium. Raiding a doomsday cult, and being chased by them. Adventuring into the wilds looking for Toad Monks....ending up in a Sidhe dream world. She was glad to find herself pleasantly surprised to see an old friend at her door.

Some of their misadventures...

Well, they had plenty of them over the last couple years, and she and him had helped each other survive some strange scrapes that otherwise might have ended any further journal entries. They trusted each other. A commodity she valued more than gold. Cherished more than fine clothes.

Ynsidia zeroed in, finally, on the chocolate.

"I'm not sure which I'm more excited about..."

She started.

"The chocolate, or the crazy explanation you are bound to have for looking like you narrowly escaped being cooked by heathens."

 

[Zari'to Honi]

His smile was wide, all teeth, and to the point where he couldn't help but near close his eyes. No matter how disheartening his tales could be, she always seemed up to listen to him and Honi couldn't help but afford her the same attention with her own tales. Ending with a toothy grin. he allowed one pointed tooth to slip over his lip giving him a comical appearance and would he marched into the open doorway, into her threshold. The perfume of smoke left in his wake was ever present as he moved past and and to further mark his entrance, he would thump her with his tail for good measure.

"Heathens.. No doubt for the praise no gods of mine... Let us just say there is a charred manse in the city minus it's lord and several guards..." There was never a need to sugar coat his actions with her. She knew full well the business he was often tied into. "I've papers that need to be resigned in my masters name as he is now the owner of several plots of land outside the city."

And thus the reasons for his earlier ordeal was revealed. The mess at the manse was all for land rites and the papers naming the lord of such lands.

"I stopped by... Several times in fact but, you've been away apparently... Oh how my heart ached each time." He was going through the full range of his theatrics.

Of course the moment he entered he stopped and turned to look at her. "I should change.. In the open I didn't realize I smell just like how currently look.. Like a chimney sweep... I'll away to your private room... In the mean time cancel any plans you have." It seemed the cat had something plotted. Removing his bag, he would offer the simple black sack to her and the separate bag of chocolates before humming as he vanished further inside.

 

[Ynsidia]

Cancelling plans for his sudden arrival?

Most would consider this a rude barging in, but Ynsidia for one had no plans, and two, knew this was a fishing expedition from Honi to acquire her skill set. The chocolate was the lure, the story or stories were the line, and he was out to reel her in!

While he used the room to change, Ynsidia tried to figure out whether there were any clues to cue her in on what he was going to drag her into. The chocolate was in ornate wrapping that told her only that it was expensive, and local. No help there. Or, perhaps, there was a bit of a clue in that alone.

She smiled knowingly.

"Consider them cancelled, my friend; we have so much catching up to do." Ynsidia said, summoning several pre-spawned Ink Footman to get a pot on the boil and set out a spread for tea.

"How's business?" Ynsidia asked, fishing back.

OOC: Sorry for the wait! Happy 4th!

 

[Zari'to Honi]

"Busy... As always." He called from the room, the door left ajar.

Golden eyes looked over his singed clothing as he pondered what he should change into it. With the available thread on hand, he pulled mana into his hand and the robe itself began to break apart the thread hovering in place as the mana seeped into it. If she were to look, it would seem as if as tendrils of darkness were hovering around him, ready to consume him. Eyes closed, he thought about the desired article of his choosing and the treads returned to his frame, though gone was the robe, replaced with a simple short sleeved tunic which was black as well.

"Much better." He said afterwards as he removed the hat from his head and once more his magic was at work, breaking it apart and turning it into hood which connected directly into the tunic. The next few moments were spent tidying up, her water basin used to wash himself as best as possible.

Exiting, he paused as a ink footman rushed passed and he couldn't help but marvel at her magic. Much like his was rather unique, she too had an interesting skill set he just could not get over. "Though not as busy as you have been." He mused, knowing she had found herself in many a misadventure as well.

 

[Ynsidia]

Ynsidia wagged a finger at her friend.

"Looking into those Crimson Mists that showed up awhile back was business, ending up in them was unplanned," she stated as one of her Ink Footman passed by carrying a platter with a vessel of sugar, a block of cheese, spoons and knives, and a loaf of bread. She eyed up his newly formed garb, and smirked. Honi's magic was always a wonder.

"Stealing a Doomsday Cult's Idol for my master was business, getting chased all over Alleria by them was unfortunate..."

And another Footman passed by with a rare treat, a decanter of fresh milk. A difficult commodity to obtain fresh, let alone keep. She grinned wide and indicated the decanter as it passed between them.

"Going on an expedition out of Elbion for gold was business; ending up with a cow as reward for my troubles was unexpected...but now much appreciated; so you see..."

And Ynsidia sat down before the fully arrayed wood table, pointing to the empty, cushy looking chair across the table from her.

"...It's been only half busy, and half peril." she finished.

Then she tore into the chocolate.

"But enough about me. You've been undoubtedly involved, yes?"

 

[Zari'to Honi]

"Your modesty is always heart warming... Well I am elated to see you are not worse for wear... Otherwise I would be a rather bored kitty." He mused with a grin as she tore into the chocolates. Honi on the other hand, went about fixing himself a cup of tea. "Temptress... You know it is unlike a cat to refuse milk..." He purred playfully for theatrics, but in truth he seemed rather happy to have the milk at hand. "Odd but very much welcomed reward... Supplies me for another reason to visit you."

Tea in hand, he eased back into his seat and thought of her question. What had he been up to while she was out and about? They always seemed to compare notes as such, seeing who's recent jaunts into the world appeared more crazier, though it was not a contest they really seemed to admit existed.

"My master has been grabbing land recently... Not sure why honestly... At first there appeared no rhyme or reason... but I'm starting to get a bigger picture now." He would not eluded to what that picture was.

"Tell me Dia... Have you ever been to a Ball?" He suddenly asked, a glint of mischief befalling those dangerous golden eyes. Just what did that neko have planned?

 

[Ynsidia]

Looking up from scarfing, black wells almost wild looking, Ynsidia slowly regained her civilized composure. Chocolate made her a little crazy...a touch wild... Several deep breaths, and she knew she wouldn't just growl when she attempted to speak. Grabbing a napkin, she wiped away a thick halo of coco from around her lips.

Putting down the chocolate (with another deep breath), Ynsidia snatched up a tea cup and went about pouring herself some of the relaxing brew.

"No, not really. Vel Anir nobles have invited me to perform parlor tricks with my magic...or kill rivals, at several balls, but I don't get to dress up in a pretty gown, dance with promiscuous men , make the flirty conversation with young cads that have money, and other such merry things...I am old enough to kill, apparently, but not old enough for the other adult things of a lascivious nature..." she explained at length, stirring in some milk and sitting back in her chair.

She took a long, hard look at her friend.

The grin he wore was almost a constant. It rarely fell. The one time it did, they both were in a situation that nearly claimed both their lives. She was twelve, naive, headstrong, and careless with her burgeoning powers. He was wise, and as crafty as ever. Her master, The Conjurer, had paired them up once before for a task that required their unique skill sets. Their second outing? It was less a mission and more of mutual curiosities unable to turn away from a potential reward. It had proven near lethal for them.

Four years removed, and Ynsidia could only remember that one day being the day she saw Honi's mask slip.

"We've been friends for much too long, Hon. Gone through far too much together. Enough play; out with it!" she said suddenly after a sip of tea, and a short savor. She looked up over the brim of her cup at her friend.

"What has your master set in motion, and how can I help?"

 

[Zari'to Honi]

Ah, there it was, her cat like curiosity getting the better of her. He couldn't help but get her riled up to hear her ask what was planned.

"Nothing nothing..." He feigned ignorance for a moment before he found he couldn't help him himself. "A little fun in the way of espionage and having someone sign over the rights to their land without them realizing... And because you asked maybe a dance or two."

She didn't ask... Honi would treat her as if she did though. All fun in teasing her it seemed.

"If you are in, which you will no doubt be, I'll tell you everything you wish to know."

 

[Ynsidia]

Leaning back in her chair, Ynsidia considered a moment. A ball. A plot. And her embroiled in it for business sake. They'd both been through that. There would be countering forces. Subterfuge. Assassins and phials of poison. Things that made a pleasant night of pageantry a field of pitfalls.

After everything she'd been through, she honestly just wanted to wear some fancy dress, wave a fan, and giggle at some fancy dressed boys her age...and maybe have a dance or two...

Yet, she also wanted to help her friend. Her and Hon. The rogues at the ball. Setting her cup down on its saucer, and placing the saucer in her lap, she gave a wan smirk to her friend, eyes squinting. Perhaps she could both help Honi, and get something of a night off all at once. Her mind, and heart, needed a break from adventure and peril directed at her.

"How about this..." she started, pausing almost dramatically, lifting her tea back up for a sip. "...let me be the 'Nothing nothing' in your scheme."

Ynsidia let that hang for a second.

"Tell me nothing, involve me in nothing; have your master get me an invite to this function, I will show up, fully dressed with a couple phials of my craft for show; everyone will see me, know where I got the invitation from, and assume we're at it again...but I am literally there as the woman of leisure...eyes reading into it will follow me like a hawk, for sure, but I am merely a distraction..."

She set her cup down on the table and folded her arms.

"If anyone gets rough, I'll get rough back, but it would be a good ruse, and give me my selfishly desired night out."

Another pause.

"I would not require a cut of the spoils, naturally. Just an invitation."

 

[Zari'to Honi]

"I can see that working.... Tell me... If you were to give me a vial of your ink... Could you possibly change the context of what is written on parchment? I need a rival merchant to sign papers stating he is receiving ownership over contested farmlands... But I need those papers to state he revokes his right to lay claim... I was hoping you could manipulate the ink to chance while no one is aware..."

He presented the plan to her. She had to in fact know a little something.

"I'll do all the hard work..." He tossed in good measure. That meant getting the original parchment and switching it for her fake, getting it signed, getting it to her, and then getting back to where it was being transported too.

"Sooooo... Sounds like something we can do? I'll even make you a dress." He tempted her. He was a master of thread after all. He knew the answer though. He knew she was in regardless if she was able to work with his plan. If not, well he would have another ten he could rely on.

 

[Ynsidia]

There was a thought.

She manipulated ink in imitation of different animals, and beings. It seemed like a small act to make or alter letters in contrast to the amazing feats she pulled off with ink as it stood...yet she had never attempted such a thing! In fact, she could manipulate ink over distances, proven when she was in Alleria with Thomas Whistler; her ink bird was a good hundred feet up for recon purposes. As long as the ink contained her blood, she was a part of the ink itself, and could manipulate it as she wished.

A dress from Honi would be more than payment. And the challenge couldn't be passed up. Hubris demanded an affirmative.

"The dress must be canary yellow, my bronze complexion demands it. And there must be some silk and sequin; low cut and plunging, if you will, since I have some growth I want the boys my age to notice. And do forget the ten to twelve odd hacks you're thinking about right now who you mistakenly believe could be anywhere near as good as I am for this venture."

Ynisidia boasted, picking up her tea and sipping with a smug, smoldering gaze.

The haughty grin was all the "Yes" Honi needed.

"I am Ynsidia." she proclaimed.

"And anyone else would just be rubbish!!"

OOC: I assume a jump cut to the ball is in order?

 

[Zari'to Honi]

"Canary yellow, silken shawl, with just the right amount of sequin to catch the light... I've out done myself...." Honi complimented his own work as he watched Ynsidia disembark from the carriage.

Her's was one of many that flooded the street outside of the estate, lined up to drop off it's passengers who all were eager to attend the ball. The celebration in question? Ezra Ryder, a rather wealthy merchant, was celebrating the engagement of his nephew to another wealthy family as his own. Not as wealthy as himself, but worth noting. In truth, the celebration was a ruse to get several powerful people in the same room and for Ezra to acquire rather lucrative land rights. Nothing of note was in this land aside from a very old iron mine that had gone dry... Only Ezra had reason to believe it was not dry. The fools signing it over had no idea on the prize that sat upon their line.

Honi knew. Or rather his master did.

Which is why Honi was perched across the street, watching from the shadows as the ink mage he affectionately called Dia made her entrance. The neko really outdid himself with that dress.

"Right on time." He said to himself before sending off one of his thread anchors across the street to swing across. Where as she could enter the estate as a guest, he had to find other means of getting in. Not so hard in his gaze. Getting around... That was another story. He would figure that out later.

The estate was large, planted in the center of a expansive lawn that was open with nay a tree in sight. It was also well patrolled. Getting across the street would be simple. Getting to the estate itself however.

Ynsidia was lucky, in the sense she could waltz in. Once passed the main gate, she would find herself moving along with the large crowd that was escorted down the path to the house itself. The ball was being hosted on the first floor and the back yard portion. As she could see, Ryder was not a man who withheld from his guest as his riches were easily flaunted. Music, food, performers. He went all out, for this was a show for all to see... And what was the show? It was him. Ryder was the show, as well as his power and influence.

Honi would have fun with this job.

 

[Ynsidia]

Ynsidia, true to form, found herself bashful in spite of herself. Honi had barely given a 'plunge' at all to the dress, and for all of her own bravado, she now felt modest, holding a yellow fan over the fairly conservative 'dip' in the neck line that only hinted a peek of cleavage. False confidence given way to shyness, Ynsidia kept the fan practically affixed to her bosom, a glowing, natural scarlet coloring her face.

"Nice dress," said a young man her age waltzing by. His eyes only darted to her face after tracing the subtle outline of her ample hips through the cut of the gown. "We must have a dance once inside," the burgeoning cad added with a mischievous grin.

If steam could have issued from Ynsidia's ears just then, it would have.

"Y-yes, th-that would be most agreeable!" she managed, regarding her gown again.

Honi was a master of his craft, and one of the only people who knew her present measurements. She was so worried about the neckline and chest areas of her attire, she never realized what Honi had in fact done for her. Ynsidia had to admit that she wasn't a 'busty' woman, and likely never would be, but she did have long legs and wide hips.

Her friend had tailored the bottom half of the outfit to tastefully accentuate these attributes.

Genius!

Feeling oddly less anxious and a bit more confident at her va-va-voom being so carefully considered, Ynsidia looked back to the young man as he waltzed ahead, eyes dropping downward.

"I will come find you!" she said as he was still in ear shot, the young man looking back over his shoulder with a raised brow, flicking long blond locks away from his fancy collar.

"Oh?"

Ynsidia grinned like a shark of the ocean.

"Yes! All I must do is look for the best seat in the house!" and she giggle evilly, holding the fan before her face.

 

[Zari'to Honi]

While Ynsidia was making her entrance and earning a look or three, Honi set out to begin his on invasion of the manse. He would be able to swing over the main wall that encircled the property, but once inside that was another story. The great lawn was well groomed and outside of the random tree here and there it was fairly open. Swinging about, his most convenient way of transportation was out of the question, and as such, he'd have to find another way in.

He ran through the scenarios in his head and each ended with failure. He couldn't simply rush in, he would be noticed and the whole idea was to act quietly. He could try and take on the appearance of a guard, but then he didn't know the routes they were expected to patrol and there was a chance seeing a guard out of place could set off the other guards. He was left with only one option that would work. Hopefully. He was sure. Mostly.

Honi skirted the side of the main wall, moving at a blinding pace as an idea came to mind. He had used this method before and it had yet to fail him, meaning he would use this trick again. Rounding the corner, he came across a line of carts, all waiting to be inspected and allowed through the side gate. The Ball was in full swing, and as such more goods would be needed to fuel the celebration. Food wares and spirits were loaded into several carts, all waiting neatly in line.

Honi was more often then not rambunctious and instead of scoping the situation out he simply erupt from around the corner firing off a second anchor that latched to the wall behind him and caused him to arc around in a wild turn. Both anchors were then released and retracted into their housing, the tubular contraption attached to his hips and Honi twisted in air so he was flying feet first. His body fell victim to gravity and in so he skillfully skidded the rest of the way to the cart, vanishing under it. With in moments he was clambering against the underside of the cart and the threads he so skillfully controlled formed around him, making a box like panel he in. Cocooned, he now waited patiently.

And as he hid there, one thought passed through his mind. He wondered if Ynsidia was having as much fun as he was.

 

[Ynsidia]

Ynsidia never got a chance to seek out "Pretty Boy with the cute butt' as she was waylaid right off the bat into a waltz by 'Pretty Boy with broad shoulders'. When she managed to get free of him, she found her time monopolized by 'Pretty Boy with the gorgeous blue eyes', then after that, it was 'Pretty Boy with the strong jawline', and then 'Pretty Boy with the exciting cleft in his manly chin'.

All roughly her age, all who took turns dancing with her, and all of whom she had to politely move hands up to her waist from off her ass.

Very hungry, curious grips from all of them!

What occurred to Ynsidia while visiting the vast refreshment table where she got a chance to take in the other guests was that there was a drought on eligible teenage females for the surplus of eligible teenage scions. Most of the women present were mid to late twenties at the youngest, and white-haired venerable at the oldest, all largely spoken for, wearing their confident, established husbands arms around their shoulders like lavish stoles.

It wasn't that she was the prettiest woman their age they'd seen, no, it was that she was the only woman of eligible age they could vy for at all. Even the shyer, and plainer scions seemed to be thronging together from the darkened corners of the hall on their various approaches towards her. A glass full of some fine, fruity libation Ynsidia quickly downed, turning towards the boys as they advanced upon her with desperate looks on their nervous and anxious faces.

Ynsidia grinned evilly at them, giggling as some of them swallowed hard in reaction. No, she wasn't all that pretty really. She knew that, but tonight she was. Tonight she was the beautiful Love Goddess to these possibly hundred-odd horny teenage noble-boys.

A captive market.

She never had such excellent odds in her favor before!

"Hello boys," and Ynsidia elongated out the word 'boys' for an eternity. Her tone dripped sweet as honey, feeling a giddy, nefarious thrill when the gaggle of affluent heirs blushed red and gulped hard again, their eyes widening.

So far so good! Ynsidia hoped Honi was getting along just as well as she was...

 

[Zari'to Honi]

While she danced, Honi faced off against a rather daunting opponent. A cobblestone road. It didn't seem like much, but hiding against the underside of a wagon was not as fun as it could have seemed while being jostled about thanks to the stone road. Carriages were built with an idea of comfort and measures were taken to provide such. This particular wagon however had been made to transport heavy goods, and as such, every uneven stone was it's own private war. By the time he neared the gate and the guards began their inspection of the wares, he wondered how bruised and battered he'd be before he even started his devious plot.

These were the thoughts that passed through his head as he sat there in silence, feeling as if he were caught in a endless loop of waiting. He was anxious and silently chided himself for feeling as such. He knew better, as rushing into such matters would only spell disaster. Still, he couldn't help but feel that built up of tension and just when he thought he couldn't take it, the need to peek reaching a crescendo, they were waved on and allowed to pass.

The going was easier, as the path inside the estate was smooth and better tended to. Still despite the new addition of comfort, that didn't ease the pain of having to wait for the right moment. To soon, and Honi would reveal himself any where near his intended target, stranded somewhere along the vast lawn with no cover. To late, and he would find himself no where near the estate. And so, he continued to exist in the silence.

Minutes which stretched like hours passed and Honi came to realize they had come to a stop. More time passed and it began apparent that the wares were now being unloaded. He was where he wanted to be. Half of the covering of thread he used to mask himself was removed, giving him a view of his surroundings to his right. He saw the shifting legs of guards and men at work, and though he couldn't see from the waist, judging from the bend of their knees the men were carrying wares.

More of the covering was removed, the twine returning to the spools he kept along his waist. In the end he was left with the silk like threads that held him in place. He was there but he'd need a distract. The neko slowly turned his head to the side to see what was to his left and was delighted to see another cart and horse. He instantly knew what to do.

The thread used was thin, a wisp of string that in all rights barely existed. Fine in design, the human eye would have little hope spying it. The strength of the wire was amazing as well, able to hold up to over 50lbs per strand. However, the price of such thread was through the rough and Honi had spent a small fortune for the spool he carried.

As if carried on a gentle breeze, the thread moved, smoke like in how it was carried and in moments the thread round it's way to the standing horse. It quickly wrapped around the horses muscled leg and constricted, cutting into it's flesh. And just as fast as it moved to the horse, it retracted back. The horse was left with the thinnest cut, welt like in appearance. The pain would have been quick and instance, enough to send the horse into a confused frenzy as it was in pain and startled. Enough of a distraction to send everyone close by around the cart to see what had spooked the horse. The perfect moment Honi needed.

He released his hold on the the underside of the car, hit the ground and rolled under into the open, launched his anchors into the air and just like that, he was zipping up to the roof and finally breaking into the estate.