Private Tales Old Flames Never Die

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Gavin Blackfyre

Captain Blackfyre
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"There's a coldness in the air tonight... You sure you are good to do this... Aren't your joints aching?" Janessa spoke, her attempt at a level tone failing to hide the amusement she felt seeing her captain standing on the edge of the building.

"I feel that is a crack at my age..." Gavin replied in a rather flat tone despite stretching his limbs out at that moment. There was a stiffness to his body he was still working out despite the time he spent being reacquainted with his body.

"You sure you want to do this... You do not have to go... " His first mate spoke, her voice softer revealing that beneath the blanket of humor she was actually worried.

"... I lost a lot.... These last few months.... They have been rough... It's about time I take the wheel of my ship again... Tonight, I sail forward." He replied, his darken gaze looking to the streets below. Despite the time of the night and the dropping in temperature, carriages still flooded the larger streets and the many races that flooded Allira all walked about, their own stories to tell.

"You're seriously going to use a ship analogy... When you have neglected your own ship and crew... The Roci needs a captain..." Janessa argued.

"She has one... A daring lass who has kept her running. Doing a far better job then the last bloke mind you." Gavin countered with a grin.

"Can't blame me for trying... Just.. Be careful tonight.. We do not even know if this threat on the nobleman is legit or not..." She balled her fist, wanting to stop him from going but knowing she couldn't.

"Which is why I have to go... Drendor has been left alone to do as he pleases... It's about time I seek him out for everything he's done... Don't worry... I get banged up I know who to see." Gavin said as he peered over the edge.

"Well then... Happy huntin cap'n." Janessa saw him off.

With a cheeky wave of his hand, he said goodbye without facing her and leapt from the building edge. The rush of wind tore at his dark leather coat sending the ends to flap loudly in the wind. He smiled wildly as the familiar rush of moving with his body filled his mind and he was reminded of times long past. Times where he was strengthen by a wonderous magic gifted to him from a dying friend. Those times had passed now... And he had been stripped of that magic.

Yet in it's place he found a new strength to call his own. A new sword to use in the darkness. One of darkness.

As the ground rushed up he could feel his body flooding, not with the dread of impact but with the flow of mana. That mana gave way to darkness and his body was swallowed by shadow and as the screaming tattered ends of his coat gave cause for those below to look up in wonder he was gone....

And appearing on the roof of the building across, the inky blackness which swallowed him pooling at his feet as he stepped forth out of the shadows. And then it travelled up his body and collected in the empty socket where his eye had once been. The eye which had been robbed from him.

"Alright... Not off to a bad start..." He said in a very optimistic tone.

If only he knew how the rest of his night would go... If only he knew.
 
It was a deep rhythm, the kind she could feel in her bones, the kind she could just sink into - hah, sink. Almost. The back and forth, the rolling pass of each moment with the creaking of the sails overhead and the snap of lines being jerked taut in the breeze. She could hear the splash of the waves at the sides of the ship, the burbling mumble of the sea as it interacted with the tiny vessel, and she wondered what it was thinking.

Kestrel.”

Overhead, the radiant warmth of the sun, blocked out into blips of cold as the wind tugged the sails to and fro - and she could breathe in, tasting salt on her tongue, filling her lungs as rough hands covered hers, a low bassy rumble against one ear. The words didn’t matter, they were gentle guidance about the ship, how it felt, how the sea felt. More importantly she could feel the rumble of his voice as he pressed against her back, arms around her as -

“Kestrel, are you listening to me? Kestrel.

Yes,” the half-elf snapped, opening her eyes as she turned that amethyst gaze to the man across from her.

She let the sense of belonging, of right, slip away along with the sounds of the open ocean and promises she'd given up on as she grounded herself back there, hunkered in a garbage strewn back alley at the corner of a large manor, one of the finest in all of Alleria, towering overhead. The cold wall was rough against her back as she sat against it, arms folded, cloak tucked around her so all that was visible was her head, tousled raven-black hair, and purple eyes giving away only one thing - she was irritated at the chiding.

The man responsible was tall, easily two head’s taller than she was, broad as a oxen and just as strong.

(Just as smart, too, Kes thought to herself.)

He cast a glance at the third person in the alley - a thin man with a sharp face and an impassive expression, his charcoal-black hair slicked back into a tight ponytail. He wore a cloak like her, but unlike her, it was open, revealing a finely wrought red tunic with an array of knives of all shapes and sizes across his person.

“Remember the plan,” the big man continued. “As soon as the guards switch, we’re up and over the wall. I can make it, but if you don't keep us invisible, we'll -”

“I know the plan, Sedge,” Kestrel interrupted, closing her eyes as she leaned her head back against the wall. “Father ran the plan by me before he even breathed a word to the two of you, remember?”

Sedge and thin man, Nails, exchanged glances; Kes didn’t see it, but she didn’t need to see it.

At least they said nothing else to her until the sound of a rope unfurling, dropping from the wall above to hang just along the wall, stirred them to action.

Sedge shed his cloak, revealing a harness with several loops in it. Kes moved up to one side, grabbing the loops by Sedge’s shoulders and lightly leaping up so her feet were braced against his lower back; on his right hand side, Nails did the same.

Then, bearing both of them as easily as if they weren’t even there, Sedge strode to the wall. He took hold of the rope, grunting in satisfaction, then prepared to climb. “You good, Kes?”

The thief didn’t say anything; she closed her eyes, letting her breath draw in, pulling from that well inside of her and letting it roll out, the magic rippling over her and the two men. It was hard, she could feel the strain already, that stretching feeling as it tugged her back, away from the world, into somewhere soft and muffled and distant… but she resisted, keeping her focus.

“Good,” she said.

“Weird,” Nails hissed. Sedge shrugged… and began to climb.

They made the top of the wall just as the silence was shattered, a sudden rocking BOOM cracking through the otherwise still air from the other side of the Manor. A blossom of yellow and orange bit into the air, visible over the edge of the walls, as Sedge rolled the rope up and stashed it for a potential getaway.

“That’s the signal,” Nails said, briskly.

Kes moved in between the two of them, hand on each of their backs. Again, she reached in, feeling that tingle respond, and eagerly, pulled out and wrapped around the three of them. “Move,” she instructed. “Let’s get this over with.”

Sedge and Nails began to walk forward, even as Nails began to double and triple check his knives. Kes tried not to look at it, tried not to let her mind track to what was coming next. The lord of the manor would be in his bedroom, just ahead. His guard would be there, but minimal, most drawn to the front of the building in order to deal with the sudden attack. It would be easy, especially for Nails.

Kes had seen him … ‘work’ before. He was nothing if not efficient.

Kes knew how tonight would go, and its bloody, inevitable end.

Or so she thought.
 
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'Oy! Ya 'ere me ya twit?!" The guard assigned to overlook the ramparts called up to the tower guard.

The guard stationed up above didn't respond in kind, simply leaned over and drunkenly waved. His movements were sloppy and in truth, gave the appearance of a man not entirely in control of his own body.

"....Consider this a warnin'! Next time ye decide to toss back some'ent, save some for'me!" The rampart guard replied angrily before stomping off to continue his patrol.

Above, the tower guard pulled back and slumped to the floor, the shadowy tendrils which wrapped around him and operated him like a marionette slithering back from his form and returning to Gavin who was crouched in the darkness the corner of the open room. His monogaze fell to the slumped figure of the guard and wondered how long he would be out.

"Sorry mate... You'll wake with ya head pound'in...." He muttered to himself. It was better then the alternative. Slitting the mans throat. "One day, I'll be able to give warnings with out all the cloak and daggers... Until then.. Shadows it is." he said outloud, assuring himself his cause was just.

Gavin had been able to traverse the rooftops, his preferred method of travel, with relative ease aside from the strain of using the shadow magic he employed. No longer supplemented by the vast amounts of mana the Blackfyre had afforded him, Gavin's new magical abilities caused great fatigue over time. Hence the need for him to fish the small glass vial from the leather holster that ran along his hip and remove it's cork top in a fluid motion before downing the bitter blue liquid with in. Face twisting in disgust, the sense of being tired for using his abilities began to melt away. Peeking out to the opening into the tower that allowed one to enter via the attached ladder, he surveyed the grounds.

No less then three political figures inhabited the grounds, each living in a large manse which were separated by low stone walls where as the overal area was closed off by high stone walls. A towered marked each end of the large square and aside from the small back entrance, there was only one other traditional way of entering by ways of the main guard. Each was heavily guarded however.

Of course, Gavin was everything but traditional.

Getting in was the easy part... warning the intended target he might be assassinated... Now that was the hard part.

Still, Gavin had a job to do and he would see it through.... He hadn't been exactly on a lucky streak as of late after all.
 
The hallway was long, interrupted by statues and opulent decor but otherwise empty, squares of moonlight patched on the carpet from the open windows; if the curtains had been drawn, it would have been more difficult for them, trying to find their way without any visible source of light. Kes’s magic didn’t make them able to see in the dark, after all.

Luck was, apparently, on their side.

At least, as far as windows were concerned.

The hall outside of the main bedroom, however…

“Dozen and a half,” Nails breathed as he retracted back around the corner, to where Kes and Sedge waited. The cling of shifting armor and the thud of weaponry being moved followed his pronouncement, further adding to the pressed looks exchanged between the two that the slim man addressed. Three of them, against eighteen heavily armored guards with the strategic advantage of the landscape, to boot.

Into the silence, into the tension, came another BOOM!!!

This one louder than the other, this one more intense than the other, rocking the walls and shuddering the glass in the windows. All the windows along one side of the building spilled the orange light - and instantly the alarm went up, a ringing of warning bells clamoring through the building as the sound of distant shouting filled the manor. The manor stirred to life, the flurry of activity all responding to the explosion that had rocked the far gate of the estate...

The clang of men, furiously shouted orders, before suddenly the hallway fell into a pensive silence.

Nails risked another look. “Four.”

Sedge straightened up. “My turn. Get him inside, ghosty.”

“Stop telling me the plan I helped make,” Kes snapped, but the bigger man was already pulling up his hood; a black affair, it covered his head and his face all except his eyes, with a two-looped circles sigil - the two moons eclipsing each other - embroidered across the front in crimson thread. As he pulled his hood up, Nails and Kes pulled theirs as well, settling them into place as suddenly the three of them slipped into a different sort of anonymity.

Then Kes put her hand on Nails’s shoulder, and they winked out of sight…

… as Sedge charged into the hallway.

The brawl was instant, the clang of Sedge’s armored fists into the armored bodies creating the perfect background as the door to the main bedroom creaked open… just enough for a thin person - or two - to slip inside…
 
He swore the building shifted under the stress of the explosion and found himself stepping back to regain his balance else risk stumbling to far back from the man he was currently huddled over. He new his appearance was not warm... His expression was strained and downright frightening, given the shadow magic he was using was pouring forth from the cavity in his empty eye socket.

"I swear to you sir, you are in danger... You will die if you stay here... I could have easily killed you but I haven't..." Gavin told the quivering noble as he slowly removed his hand form his mouth.

"W.. Why is this.." The noble began to ask.

"Doesn't matter.... You've a hideaway, best get to it." Gavin told him as he yanked him to his feet.

He ha arrived moments before the first explosion, his carefully methodical pace traded in for something more reckless which put him in the path of far to many guards. He avoided most but found himself knocking a handful out. Regrettably, none came for their charge, which meant some must have been paid off to leave the man vulnerable or where engaged.

Rushing the noble over to his bookshelf, Gavin found himself recruited to push the piece of furniture aside and after throwing his shoulder into it did it finally began to move, the hinges groaning in protest.

"Typical he muttered to himself..." As the noble took a tentative step forward into the corridor he just revealed. People lacked imagination when making escape routes.

"You survive..." Gavin said while pushing him through and closing the hidden door.

And then, he heard it, the door behind him opening.

Well he made it on time to make sure the noble escape... He completed half his job. Shame he couldn't slink out without being seen.

"Well... Suppose I should see what this commotion is about... Who's slinking about through the chamber door?" He rattled in a comical fashion as he turned about, ready for battle.
 
The creak of the door into the open room was so loud, so loud, ratcheting through the silence of the bedroom, allowing the din of the fighting outside to spill in along with the light from the hall and…

… nothing else?

Just that door ajar, the man standing in the room silhouetted as a lack form against the window beyond, an interruption in the white-square of moonlight that sliced across the floor in the middle of the … empty room? He had just enough time to mull over that, to puzzle over a door that opened to admit no one, when there was just the warning flash of light on a blade to his right hand side, and a slim, masked man appeared out of nowhere, out of thin air, mid-lunge, the dagger slicing right towards the stranger’s neck -

- a brutal, swift killing blow, right off the bat.

He wasn’t here to say hello and invite them to tea, apparently.
 
His question went unanswered, something that left him confused at first. That feeling was quickly replaced by a sense of dread however as his body screamed in terror, a warning shooting through to his core and telling him something was not right. It was as if there was a heavy pressure in the air itself as as Gavin stood there, the darkness which had collected in his eye and calmed now beginning to stir once more as if detecting.... Detecting what?

It might had been the slightest disturbance of air that warned him... Or perhaps the dark magic itself.... But as Gavin stood their staring into the empty space before him his body starting moving on it's own, shifting to the side just as the whisper of a blade kissed his neck. The privateer captain stumbled back and crashed against the bookshelf, his gloved hand brought up to his neck and he felt the sticky warmth and took in the coppery perfume of blood. A flesh wound only, still he couldn't believe what he saw. The man standing before him appeared from thin... And he couldn't help but blurt out the next words that left his lips.

"Kes?"
 
The pirate captain’s stumble took him several steps away from the masked man, at an angle to the attacker’s point of origin…

… and revealing the slim figure just behind him. She was against the wall, leaned back against it with her hands braced… like she’d wanted to back up, but the door wasn't behind her, it was several feet to her other side and she was right there. It was… in many regards, there was no way to tell who the figure was - she was clad all in black, with that mask covering her face, the deep red embroidery of the eclipsing moons - the sigil of the Crimson Moon - the only signifying mark.

But even in the semi-dark, those amethyst eyes of hers were brilliant, bright jewels catching the light, and the daggers strapped at her hips were daggers that he knew well. He’d gone with her to get them, after all.

“Don’t talk to the ghostie, you’re dealing with me now,” the man in front of Gavin hissed, the light flashing off of the blades in his hands as he shifted his grip.

“No,” Kestrel said, from behind him. She pushed away from the wall, stepping forward up to the man’s side. Nails didn’t shift his eyes, but his brow furrowed as his companion stepped up, next to him, her hand on his shoulder as her calm pronouncement filled the room. She tugged, shifting Nails back, away from the offensive, her eyes resting on the captain in front of her.

How many nights had she heard that voice right when she was on the precipice of truly being asleep, how many times walking through a crowded alley or thronging crowd had she thought she’d caught it, drifting on the air, saying that very thing, her name? She’d wanted it, as much as she’d dreaded it… even if she’d hoped it would never, ever happen.

Her heart was thudding so hard in her chest.

“You have a job to do,” Kes said to Nails, her hands sliding down.

There was that soft hiss, as her daggers slid into her palms. The light shimmered off those razor sharp blades. “I’ll take care of this one.”

Her heart beat faster, rage crystalizing in those amethyst depths.

Nails’s dark eyes shifted to her face, flicked to Gavin, and then a cruel smile slid over his lips. He stepped back, pressing a hand to his chest. “Sure, ghostie.” And then he melted back, into the shadows, flitting from view in search of his quarry.

Leaving the two of them standing there, looking at each other…

… at least until Kes lunged forward, dagger slicing swiftly, furiously, towards Gavin’s face with a ferocious cry winging from her throat.
 
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You're making mistakes... Aren't you better then this...?

The cold voice echoed in his head as Gavin stood frozen in place. He hadn't mistake his attacker for Kes, but in his bones he knew that magic. He felt that magic... Tasted it... And now that it was before him, he knew she had to be here.

And she was.

Bleeding like a stuck pig...

The voice carried on as Gavin felt a stinging pain in his neck while the shadow mended the wound. His one good eye focused on the woman who stepped forward an his heart somehow sunk into his chest and rose at the same time. It was her... He had found her... And.. .She didn't seem a all happy to seem him. He could feel the tension in the air, think and swampy, like trying to swim through soup.

Gavin was at a lost, unsure if he should reason with her and her comrade. There was a reason why she was here. Did they have to be on opposing ends? Would she listen? The thoughts raced through his head as she ordered her comrade on and attacked.

Move you fool!

The voice cried as the shadows gathered in his hand and calcified, hardening to the point it was able to crash against her own blades. Still, his attempt at guarding against her lacked conviction. He didn't want to fight her. He wanted to figure out what was going on.

You fight or I fight... Choose fast.

The voice warned him. Gavin knew he had limited time at that point.

"Kes! Stop!" He pleaded. He needed to figure out what was going on soon... Else all was going to go to hell.
 
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It wasn’t exactly a clang, but it was a ping as her dagger met… whatever it was he’d done to block her. It wasn’t fire, she was prepared for him to use the Blackfyre against her, it was just… black. And it earned a second - a split second - of hesitation from her as she stared at the hardened-shadow in his hand…

Since when? Had it been that all the time? Was that the Black part of the Blackfyre and he’d just hidden that from her too, the way he’d hidden everything else?

… then, it was like that anger set her face again, her brow furrowing.

No,” came the snapped response in regards to his plea to stop, because she knew what happened if she stopped. He would talk, he would reason, he would lie, and she… she would listen. She would fall for it, for his charm, for the way he looked at her, for the stupid way he said her name like it was something wonderful, something precious… She’d made plans the first time she’d met him and he’d systematically ruined all of those plans, changed her mind.

She didn’t intend to let that happen, pay the consequences, yet again.

Her daggers flashed in the murky room as she readied her next round of attacks -

“You really should run,” she warned him, then - snapping forward, her daggers snaked through the air again, a stab towards his upper chest, followed by another, this time towards his lower thigh. Two lightning quick blows that aimed to disable him immediately, not letting up as she pressed the attack and… and those weren’t deathblows, she wasn’t going after his throat or heart, but she… She wasn’t pulling her blows at all, stepping into him with each blow after swift, fierce blow…
 
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Her movements were as elegant as the first time he saw her.... Lurking within the confines of his home. Quiet as a mouse... Charming... The beginning of their torrid love affair... His thoughts began to wander at the wrong moment. She warned him to run, something that would have been a kind gesture if not followed by the flash of her blades as she closed in on him. Once more caught off guard, his cursed himself as it seemed he indeed was not ready for his first outing.

Frantically he tried to react in time but found himself unable to lift his arms in time. He was sluggish, his one eye struggling to keep up with her speed. Where as he had taken a break from the more rigorous labors of his life, she seemed in fine form. As much praise he wished to give her, he found he would soon be in to much pain to do so.

You are so weak...

The voice exclaimed as the daggers shifted in his hand and shot out, inky tendrils of blackness connected to his own hands which closed the distance and wrapped around both blades and stopped them. His inner thigh had been spared , the blade coming to a stop right before the fabric of the think black trousers he wore, though Gavin was more concerned with the dagger that was not an inch deep within the right side of his chest.

"Strange.... He's never put up this much resistance..." Gavin mumbled to himself though his voice was different. Colder... Deeper. "What hold do you have over him...?" Were the next words that followed as the black tendril began to over power her and voice the blade from his chest.... All the while Gavin never showed any sense he was in pain. Just what the hell had happened since they parted?
 
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That voice. It was… weird. Darker. Not… like him. She’d never heard him sound like that, never seen that cold look in his eye as he turned his attention to her, dark magic flowing out of him and affecting her daggers… and for a moment, it threw her, yanking her blades back away from him as she stepped back and into a guarded position once again, those amethyst eyes dwelling on… on him? This man felt like someone she didn’t know.

… then again.

Wasn’t that the crux of the matter.

Her gaze narrowed. “... gee, Blackfyre, how I missed you,” she responded, in a tight, barbed voice.

She had. She had missed the magical being, its constancy, its amusement with them both, its assumption of them as a duo… How silly of her.

“Run,” she told him, once again. “I won’t warn you again. I’m here to make sure Nails gets his target, and you’re in the way.” Her hands shifted on the dagger handles, gripping them to her, clinging to them as she tried to focus on her breathing, on his stance, on being ready. “Father was very clear about what to do in this situation. So get out of here, go back to your precious Jaenessa and your ship and don’t -”

Her voice tightened so much she couldn’t speak, but then she could, in a low voice - “ don’t come back.”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond. He got the barest of hints of what was about to come, the slight shift of her foot from a ready position to a lunge, and then she was in his face again, the snap of her daggers slicing forward again, coursing through the dark air. Four rapid slices - warnings, perhaps, because the tips of her daggers sliced at his upper arms, intending to leave two deep lines upon each of his biceps if he didn’t do what she’d told him

and run.
 
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"You think me the Blackfyre.... Cute." The shadow mused as the bladed formed in his hands once more and deflected each attacks with eerie precision. But that's all it was. No malice in his movements. No bloodlust. Just... A void. "It is close however... I see it's stain around you..."

The shadow took a step closer.

"Your words are pained.... Thanks to fallacies painted by Father.... His falsehoods cause a great divide in you... Funny how it is not your daggers that wound Gavin but your words...He still cares for you, still loves you... Even now I feel the warmth of his love for you... Swelling with in him... I also feel the rage he holds boiling over because he is fearful I what I might do to you... He knows what I can do to you... These mixed emotions are.. Delicious!" The shadow seemed giddy, an oddly human trait. "Where is he by the way... This... Father... I've thanks to give him. He is responsible for this marriage between shadow and man given he afforded me the opportunity to root myself in this vessel..."

He then dropped his guard and looked away as if her "father" was hiding in the very room. What was his game at this point? And more importantly, if it wasn't the Blackfyre talking, then who was it?
 
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Ping, PING! Went the blades as the man in front of her deflected them.

The half-elf jumped back, amethyst eyes narrowing as she took in the sudden change in the man in front of her, the mannerisms, the tone of voice, even the ease with which he defending himself different than it had been a moment ago. And… his words. Speaking of Father’s lies, of Gavin - Gavin hah - loving her, of what he could do to her. It made her heart thump hard against her ribs, all of those emotions swirling around and disrupting her focus, her clarity.

The threat, the anger, the hurt… they all gave her something comfortable to settle into as she readjusted her grip as she stared at him.

She had wept about this, she had raged about this, she had lay in a dark room for nights on end, staring into the blank space of black. She wasn’t about to come undone right here, right in front of him… for him to laugh at.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, captain, or if this is another thing that you failed to mention to me - you know, around all the lofty promises and the love-making and the constant lies. But you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that to make me doubt Father when he - not you, or whomever you claim to be now - is the only one who’s been truthful with me. So.” She drew her daggers up, the light running along the silvered blade. “I’ll tell you one last time.”

“Run, or stay and face me.”

She lunged forward, snap - one, two, three, four times, slashing at his person, at his chest, at the core of him, the slashes viciously fast and angled so that even if he blocked he’d be forced back or risk the tip of her blades snaking out. It didn’t take a master tactician to see what she was up to - there was a massive window behind him, a window she was driving him steadily towards while outside, in the distance, the manor burned and somewhere in the shadows, the assassin hunted his prey.
 
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The Shadow played his role, meeting her attacks with his own shadow blades with the skill of the man she faced before her though her speed and precision did steer him in a particular fashion. Yet he held the smallest of smirks as if expecting this, taunting her with his twisted features.

"I am not running.... So do your worse!" He growled, the last parry met with force that would force her guard open... Yet there he stood, arms extended out and his chest left open for her to attack. He had invited her in to attack him. The lax appearance of his limbs coupled with the wild look in his eyes was a marriage of madness. At that point it was anyone's guess what he had planned at that point.

"Step into my domain Kestrel...." He beckoned her, willing her to plunge her daggers into him.
 
His response sent her stepping backwards, attack rebuffed, but even as he flourished she reacted. There, the glint of silver coursing through the air, two throwing daggers lancing through and burying in his sleeves - pinning them to the wall behind him. He could get free, but it would take him a moment of actual effort… that and he didn’t seem to be interested in removing them, not while he was … well.

There he stood - there he flourished - his arms wide open and that taunting look on his face, like… like he was daring her to do it, like he thought she wouldn’t, like he was - was mocking her.

Months, she’d thought of him, of what he’d done to her - of the fact that he’d led her away, nearly to her death several times, let her put her life on the line for him, of how she’d loved him, of how she’d - she’d dreamed of the future with him. How she’d been ready to give up everything she was, everything she had, the Family, Father, her life here in Aliria, to hop on a ship with him and -

- and how she still wanted that.

Even after he’d lied to her about everything.

Now here he was, where he wasn’t supposed to be, standing there, taunting her, jeering at her, yet again, as if to drive home the fact that she was such a fool as to fall for it so willingly yet again. Her hands tightened on the hilts of her daggers, feeling the press of the leather bindings against her palms, the reassuring weight of them in her hand as the light from the window glinted along their blades. They had never failed her - never lied to her - never let her down, and wouldn’t here.

It was so simple, so straightforward - a movement she knew without having to think about, the shift of her weight through the balls of her feet, the rotation of her hips, the stab forward. One blade in the middle of his chest, the other in the middle of his throat, she knew how to do this. This was… easy.

It should have been easy.

Her cry twisted from her throat as she lunged forward, those blades flashing, driven forward so fast -

THUNK

- she shoved herself back, one great big shuddering breath ratcheting in her as she stared at him.

Unharmed, those daggers driven just above one shoulder and along his side opposite. Close enough that his clothing wouldn't escape without new gashes, but not enough to actually pose any threat of injury.

Kes retreated, shaking and clenching her hands at her sides.

“Gods, are you happy?! Even after everything you did, after all the lies... “ She drew her arms around herself, those amethyst eyes so bright, so crystalline, in the semi-dark. “I… can’t hurt you. Gloat away, captain. You’ve won, yet again…”
 
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He watched, face still but eyes wide with a terrible amusement that betrayed the man she loved. The man she knew. In her heart she knew of this love, for how else could that account for hesitation. He had bore deep into her soul... Her being... And with that truth she could not.. Would not rid herself of him so easily... But the truth was she had been blinded by that bond, that love they shared. For she did not see the truth... The man standing before her was not the man she knew.

With not so much as a grunt in recognition to the pain she caused him as her blades sliced into his flesh, he stared at her with those excited eyes. "You still do not see it.... This is not the man you knew..." A grin broke the the stillness of his face at that moment as if he knew of something she did not. "That was not an empty invite... Welcome to my domain..." He repeated the cryptic words.

Only this time there was a weight behind it. She had closed the gap between them. Invaded his personal space. And in doing so, she sealed her fate. The space around instantly darken, the shadows he seemed to bend to his will expanding out and swallowing the light itself. In the blink of an eye, the bedroom they fought in was gone, and she would find herself in ankle deep water... Only... It wasn't water... It was denser... Thicker... And the tang of metal stained the area. The limited light that filtered in from the lanterns hanging just below the darken ceiling showed the truth of the liquid and if she stared long enough she would realized it truly was. Blood... a river of blood.

The landscape was... Hellish. Sponge like material stretched across large rows of curved structures, bleached white. In the center of ceiling, stretching over from one end to the other was the same white material, segmented and very... Bone line. It had the appearance of a spine... And the curved structures... Ribs. Which meant the spongy material was... Tissue?

Had he trapped her in... Some large beast? Like a whale? Was such a thing possible?

"... I find this serves my purpose... Welcome Kestrel." Came a voice from above that was luminated by the lighting of candles. A seat made of bones sat atop a macabre tower of skulls and upon this gruesome thrown sat Gavin, clothed in a dark robe and looking rather relaxed in how he sat casually, legs crossed and chin resting upon the top of his fist as he were bored.... Only... That couldn't be... For at it's base, chained at the wrist was the captain as well, slumped over as if he had been knocked out.

"Now... Are you ready to talk about your father?" The Shadow then asked, uncaring on how she would react to suddenly appearing in this weird world of his creation or rather, his domain.
 
Kestrel wasn’t looking him, not initially, so it was the shift of the texture underneath her feet, the sudden slosh of tangy water around her ankles, that drew her from her reverie, the tingling of… of something along her nerves. Her senses screamed, screamed at the wrongness, at the horror of it, a feeling that was at once familiar and as jarring as the first time she’d felt it. It was the sensation of being somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be, somewhere where her magic didn’t want her to be.

Wide amethyst eyes fell first on the man - Gavin? - at the foot of the throne upon with the man - Gavin? - sat, his expression that cruel coldness she’d expected to see there.

Considering.

Only, it wasn’t Gavin. Her hands snapped for her daggers, but only found thin air, reedy with vileness and sharp chill, where her empty sheathes were at the small of her back. She cursed; squared her stance, reached for the magic inside of her - ready to disappear, ready to slip from his grasp and find her way out of there, to run - but hesitated, her eyes flicking to the slumped-Gavin at the foot of the throne.

Leave him, she told herself. Don’t care. He’s showing you his true nature, finally, so just get out of here.

“You sure are obsessed with Father,” she replied, her voice a snap, sharp with her nervous energy. She forced herself to breathe deeply, to stay calm. Dammit, no, she was supposed to be running, not staying here, not engaging just because this didn’t seem right. The Blackfyre was just another trick, then, which hurt doubly. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t know anything of use. Or at least, not that I’ll tell. Not until you explain whats going on…”

She leveled a finger at him, amethyst eyes slitting to narrow shards. “And why you reek of that demon-scape we escaped from months ago.”

She snorted softly. “My magic worked well enough while I was there. So I’m guessing if I try hard enough, I can slip away from you even here, in this…” Her eyes flicked around the hellish landscape, before sliding back to him. “... charming place. Explain what’s going on, before I get tired of waiting.”
 
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Reactions: Gavin Blackfyre
"You can try my little darling but there is no guarantee it will work, this is my domain after all." He smiled as he spoke. A smile that belonged to Gavin... But was twisted in a way it merely resembled the original. "But you've a good eye for noticing where I modeled this... Prison after... My home."

Gavin, the real one tested the bounds of his chains suddenly, the links snapping taunt as he lifted his head up and glared at the the Shadow. "You harm one hair on her head and I swear, agreement be damned, I will kill you!" He didn't shout as much as he growled his response.

"Calm dear captain.. You are in the presence of a lady... Mind your manners..." The shadow replied, holding out his hand in a stopping motion.

Though invisible to the eye, the room itself was filled with a pressure and no one felt it more so Gavin who struggled under the increased weight that bore down upon him.

"Three went in.. Four came out..." The Shadow then said as his gaze flickered over to Kes. He seemed to play the part of an bored eccentric rather well. His legs were crossed as he sat upon his throne, calm... Unexcited. His delivery tired in the sense he had other things to do. "What you see is the contract made between a curse and a desperate man... Some may argue I am no more then a parasite... I am fine with this as I know I do what I must to survive... And that survival now relies on what you have to tell me about this father of yours..."

"He's scared Kes... He knows Drendor can break our contract and separate us before he's had time to gather his strength. It's how he stripped me of the Blackfyre..." Gavin struggled to he feet, defying the Shadow. who sucked his teeth annoyed. "Kes... I don't know what he told you.. Be it's not true.... Drendor is not the man you think he is." Gavin said, finally looking to Kes.

He was tired... He was pained... And he was hopeful... Because more then ever, he needed her to listen.