Private Tales Temptation

[Raziel]

She didn't know how the two sides tugged even harder. Her resistance was so energetic, so firm. He wanted to tear it down. Pushing his tail away was just so rude. However, there was little he enjoyed more than ruining the peaceful lifestyles of the wealthy.

"I have said enough that any more threats would be wasting air."

Raziel relaxed his grip on the knife, letting her take it back from his grip. His fingernail slid across her palm sharply, drawing a tiny droplet of blood. The greatest illusion could not mirror the bond of blood. He would soon find out if she was real.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

"You should know by now that the threats aren't working on me, sugar," her hand clasped around the hilt of the knife as he slowly released it back to her.

Watching the emotions battling across his face almost made Lottie believe they were similar in a way, they both enjoyed the game that this was turning into. It probably didn't bode well for either of them. Even if he was agreeing to come along on this hunt there was nothing to stop him from turning around at the end and deciding he wanted to play some more.

But as he drew his fingernail across her skin the illusion burst.

Lottie was actually back in the branches of another tree, across from him, but it was a low one almost like a hammock. She had her back against the trunk and had one leg crossed over the other as she spun her tricorn casually around one finger. She looked over at him when the illusion popped and gave him a lazy smile.

"Does this mean we have a deal?"

 

[Raziel]

"You are far too confident for where you find yourself," Raziel said. The shadows faded away. A glint of steel and the blade was gone. "No death, no harm, no pain. Unless you ask for some," the tiefling chuckled. He drew his jacket tight around himself.

"So where exactly are we going then?"

He still suspected a trap. That would of course bring their agreement to an end. He almost hoped that she was lying.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

"Yes, my sisters tell me similar all the time," Lottie mused. Perhaps it was the confidence of youth or perhaps it was because she had lived long enough in a gilded cage to want to seize every opportunity possible. Even the bad. The dangerous. The opportunities like him. To get down from the tree she hung upside down with her hands either side of her knees before back flipping to the ground. Once there she straightened her own waistcoat and the cuffs of her jacket before placing her Tricorn back on her head, she still hadn't removed the mask.

"It's an estate just on the edges of the city," the highway woman lazily began to saunter back the way they had run as if the actions of the previous hour had never happened. "It's owned by someone called Louis Baskeville, he is a rare antique collector. He has some pretty bizzare stuff but somehow he's managed to wrangle an egg which apparently he keeps in his study. He happens to be having a little party this evening." As they walked back past the chest she stopped and dropped to a crouch, rummaging around inside. Squinting at him she rummaged deeper and produced a dapper looking frock coat and matching jacket. She tossed them to him before hunting for her own ensemble. "I think I can wrangle us an invite."

 

[Raziel]

Now the tiefling finally looked surprised. He watched he stride past, a look on incredulous shock on his face. It took a great deal to throw the mage into such a dumbfounded state but she managed it.

He looked down at the clothes she had thrown him and shook his head sharply.

"No, no these will not so. The colour, the cut, I cannot be seen in them. You will come with me to find something appropriate."

A pause followed as he tried to find the right words to express himself.

"You do...you do understand how close you just came to a truly horrible end? I'm curious now, does that not sink in or does youthful exuberance just mean that it doesn't phase you?"

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

"You're fashion conscious?" Now it was her time to look dumbfounded. Out of all the qualities she had thought him capable of, being picky about what he wanted to wear was not one of them. The order irked her but she kept her temper by biting the inside of her cheek and focused on going through the dresses in the chest. His hesitant question only warranted a snort, not her attention, at least not until she had found the dress she wanted at the very bottom. Smiling triumphantly she stood up and finally raised her eyes to his, a hand on her hip.

"Everyone dies one day, Sugar," a slight raise of her shoulder. "Besides, you were pretty fooled by that illusion - maybe you're not as good as you think," the devilish smile was both mocking and daring.

"Now Sir Silk-Is-Too-Good-For-Me, do you have a specific tailor in mind?" As she spoke she stripped her hat and jacket off, tossing them into the chest, next came the waistcoat. She couldn't very well walk into town as a highway robber.

 

[Raziel]

"I...might suggest that we use a very simple piece of blood magic. A Pact. To ensure that each of us holds to our word on this. I suggest this because I am finding it increasingly difficult to hold to mine. I am not one to stave off temptation."

He would make such sweet melody of her pain. Her own flesh the trappings of her torture that she would demand release from.

"And most people...might appreciate that death comes for all. They also might favour dying quietly after a full life rather than begging for death after being exposed to their true mortality for days."

Raziel was clearly struggling to come to terms with her youthful sense of immortality. He adored crushing such things.

"And in return I will also save time by agreeing to wear five year old fashion."

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie dropped her mask finally into the chest, looking at him for the first time with no shield. As silly as it sounded, it gave her an extra layer of confidence and cockiness, becoming someone else when the mask was on. A wariness crept over her face at his mention of blood magic and she searched his face, assessing him and his word. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw him and he wanted her to give him some of her blood?

"Some people might find all that very tempting but I've spent long enough in cages. I like to live and pain is a part of life," dark shadows in her young eyes but her comment caused them to dance with a vehement flame. She was never going back to that world, was never going to be a puppet or a toy again. She would welcome days under his knife before that. If anyone wanted her to truly suffer it would not be through physical pain, no, they would deliver her to her Prince. Lottie couldn't imagine any worse fate than living as someone you were not.

"How am I meant to trust your blood magic when you literally... just now... admitted you want to spend days taking a knife to my skin," an eyebrow raise as she folded her arms over her chest. "And this is the latest fashion here." A scold.

 

[Raziel]

"Assume, if you would, that even if you do not that I believe wholeheartedly that I could overcome you should I choose to. Without trickery.

"And the latest? This was...three seasons ago in Alliria?" he shook his head from side to side slowly.

That fire in her eyes was enticing. He imagined Fiera had seen the very same when she had introduced him to an elder god.

Not quite a true parallel to this situation, but it was seeing the fire and holding your hand over the flames just to find out how much it hurt. That was living. He could agree to that.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie warred with herself over the idea of giving her blood to him. So far she had stayed ahead because of her trickery, but every time she revealed a card from her hand she was giving him more ways to figure out how to out think her. If it came down to a fight she was inclined to agree with him that he would win. But... there was a part of her that worried he would use it for more than just a pact. The risk was 50:50; would he bind them to a pact or would he bind her.

"Fine," it was a chewed up word she half spat out. Clearly she was willing to get burnt. "How does this work?" Still, she wasn't going to offer it up to him until he explained so she busied her hands with taking off her belt and dumping that, the whip, the sword, in the chest too. Then she began un-tucking her shirt.

 

[Raziel]

"Don't stop on my account," Raziel said, waving at her shirt.

He dropped his heavy coat to the floor. It jangled as it fell. The pockets inside that pile of leather were not safe places to slip a hand. All manner of interesting things resided in there. Many of them were quite deadly in certain ways.

"It is very simple, a cut to the forearm. Shallow. Might want to bind it before dressing in your finery. You will promise that this griffin egg lead is real and that you will not run from me until the job is done. I will promise that I will not torture and murder you."

Raziel shrugged free of his shirt too and very precisely and carefully folded it up and laid it on his coat. There was a hint of a smile on his lips as he held up his left arm and placed the keen edge of his knife against the inside of his forearm.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie paused with her hands on the edges of her shirt as she listened to his instructions on what the magic involved, toying the idea over in her mind. This was the last chance she had to back out and say no. The idea was still mildly concerning, but also she wanted to see how it worked for herself.

Having apparently come to a conclusion in her mind she shrugged and pulled the shirt up and over her head, throwing it into the chest. She didn't want to get blood on that either so it was better off. Standing in her corset she picked up the dagger he had returned to her earlier and stepped over to him so there was only a step between them.

"No murdering or torturing, even beyond this job," she wanted the clarification in there so that when he had the egg in his hands he wouldn't turn around and try his hand at flaying the skin off her bones. She held the dagger to her forearm and waited for him to agree to those words.

 

[Raziel]

"This blood bond I make, ensures that I do attempt to torture or murder the other party for the next year," Raziel stated. He veered away from making the bond permanent at the very last moment.

The knife move barely an inch. It left a three inch cut that barely bled. Raziel held out his arm and waited for Lottie to make her vow and do the same. He hadn't even explained the consequences of breaking the bond. They were severe.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Well that wasn't comforting in the least but it did mean she wouldn't have to worry today. In a years time maybe she would consider moving elsewhere in case he came back to try and play his game. She watched him draw the blade across his forearm and took a breath. The consequences hadn't crossed her mind for the simple fact it would be null and void and he might try to kill her was more than enough to keep her on the straight and narrow.

Slowly Lottie drew the blade across her own forearm. It was shallow, but she matched the length he drew across his own arm and held it up as if proof. The fact she had cut herself at all at least showed she wasn't an illusion this time. Unlike his, a slow bead of blood ran down her arm.

"The blood bond I make, ensures that I show you where the egg is to the best of my current knowledge," if he was going to be tricky then so was she.

 

[Raziel]

That, he decided, was only fair. He was sadistic, not stupid. If she was acting in good faith and the egg turned out to be a lie then he supposed he couldn't hold it against her. Not for a year at least.

He clasped his hand to her forearm. Surprisingly strong crimson fingers wrapping around her arm. His tail once again flicked across the floor on her side of this bond.

The blood came to life. It would feel like a hot brand to the arm. Two thin trails of blood carried themselves around their arms like ribbons about a maypole. A bond in blood. He felt a beat thump through him once and knew it was her own heart. For some time he would have a rough sense of where she was. That was as important as the bond to him.

The blood sublimated into the ether and the pact was made.

"Now...about the fact that you Rob people bound in a corset..." he asked, canting his head to one side.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie flinched as he stepped closer in order to grab her arm and press their forearms together. His grip was a lot stronger than she has imagined and she realised he was probably right about being able to overpower her if he had wanted. She thanked the powers that be she had been lucky this time in outsmarting her opponent. As the pain shot through her, her lips pressed into a thin white line but she made no noise despite the sensation feeling like a white hot poker was being pressed to her skin.

However, watching the blood magic work almost made it worth it. Her eyes didn't leave the trails of blood as they wound around their arms, curiosity written plain as day across her features. The sudden thud of a heart that was definitely not her own in her chest turned the expression to bewilderment, but not in the frightened animal way. She had so many questions.

But apparently so did he.

It startled a laugh out of her as she took her arm back and licked the blood trail from it.

"Have you ever tried running and jumping around without your boobs strapped down?" a sly smile, her lips smeared slightly with blood before she wiped them clean and bound her arm in her handkerchief. "Let me tell you, it hurts. Besides, I grew up wearing these. I hardly notice them now, and, I've found, they actually work really well against a glancing knife blow," a light shrug as she wriggled out of her breeches and picked up the dress she had selected.

 

[Raziel]

"I have not, no. What I have done is run around whilst being able to breathe." The character of his disconcerting glare only changed slightly as he watched her as he changed. The way she had licked the blood from her arm stirred something else in him, equally dangerous. How close to the fire did she want to place her hand?

"Practicalities of dress and fashion aside, how are you thinking to steal this egg? Slip away mid party and come away with it? Do you think they will be trusting of a tiefling?"

As he leaned over she was treated to a view of thin pale lines across his skin. Some were from his experiments with magic. Some were far older.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

"You just learn not to breathe. Or, don't tie your strings so tight," Lottie was deftly getting into the dress without paying him much mind, she wasn't a prude and she was used to doing similar in front of Rob. It saved faffing around with curtains and what not. If he had a problem he could avert his eyes, or he could just enjoy the bonuses. The gown, perhaps out of fashion for him, was the height of fashion at the moment in Oban. The silk was a lavender grey with small white flowers printed onto it. It came off the shoulders and featured puffy sleeves, and followed the grooves of her corset before pooling out at the waist.

She spun round to her back was to him.

"Can you get the buttons?"

Once she could feel him obliging to her request she mulled over his question. "I think I can probably conjure an illusion of the egg if I get enough time to study it, I need a couple of minutes. Then yes, just walk out with it in our arms basically," a slight shrug. "The challenge will be getting into the study, women aren't allowed in such places." When he was done she turned to face him, her eyes skimming over the scars and red skin.

"Who says you're going to be a Tiefling? I wonder how you would look... blonde." Mischief was written plain on her face.

 

[Raziel]

"You suggest that other guests would be allowed into the study. That might make life problematic."

He waved for her to turn around. Raziel could have done the entire line of buttons quickly, but he took his time. The blood bond shielded Charlotte now, a wall around her. Yet welhen his tail draped across her shoulder and threatened to wrap around her slender neck she should not have felt safe. Her view on danger intrigued him. Raziel was determined to find out whether it was the folly of youth or a more...interesting streak.

"How long would your illusion of an egg last? Or to what distance could we beat a retreat before it lost its coherency?"

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie couldn't help the small shiver that ran down her spine as he draped his tail across her shoulders then slowly round her neck. She hadn't thought to ask what would happen to him if he broke their agreement. Lottie was all stakes in on this and she knew she wouldn't back out, but what if he did?

"It depends on how complicated the egg is but up to about an hour I would say. Study's tend to be off limits during parties, they're centred on the ballroom and dancing or the dining room and eating. It isn't until late in the evening the Lord will retire with the other men there. I'm suggesting we sneak in there during these other goings on then make our excuses to le---" Lottie couldn't take it anymore and grabbed the offending tail in a tight fist, spinning around to give him the full force of her ire.

"Look -" a pause as she realised she hadn't actually asked his name "I swear to God I will rip this pretty little thing off if you do not learn to keep it to yourself," her words were a growled threat, and there could be no doubt from the look on her face she meant it. She slapped it against his chest. "What even is your name?"

 

[Raziel]

The grin split his face from ear to ear and it was clear that - in the absence of being able to present any real threat - that irking her brought him great satisfaction.

His tail seemed to have a mind of its own and gave a swish of irritation at being handled that way.

"I haven't learned that lesson yet. But I will make an effort," he promised. There wasn't even a hint of an apologetic tone.

"I am Raziel," he gave a mock bow. His tail joined in with a rolling wave.

"I trust it is a large estate, with plenty of guards and that we are mostly improvising? Excellent."

Raziel had more than enough gold to retire to the end of days. When you brought down kingdoms for sport it could be hard to find the next challenge.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

The look on Lottie's face was probably the complete opposite to his ear splitting grin. If an artist had wanted to find a muse for the wrath of hell itself they would be hard pressed to find a more suitable model than Lottie in that moment. She had absolutely no doubts the lesson he promised to learn was exactly how to further torment her with his touch, of which there were many ways. She would have preferred the slice of a blade and the string of metal to a caress that sent her mind right back to that bleak night in the arms of a Prince.

Schooling her temper and committing his name to memory she gave an over exaggerated curtsy in return, dropping almost entirely to the floor to do so.

"Lottie, a pleasure to meet you Raziel," though her tone said nothing of the sort. As she stood and dropped their little theatrical performance she rummaged in the chest and produced a pair of appropriate slippers.

"Griffin Guards, foot soldiers, a large amount of ground to run through if we cannot leave the way we entered, and his right hand man is a mage who can control lightning. Exciting enough for you?" She made an exaggerated gesture that suggested he should hurry up with the change of outfits.

 

[Raziel]

She was growing weary of the game now, which meant that Raziel was too. Time for a different one. His disdain for out of date fashion already made, he quickly dressed. What a statement it would have been to have a crimson tiefling arrive in foreign fashion. Then to have whispers in the court that some might have seen in on their travels to the larger city to the south.

"Lottie," he said quietly he packed his bag. She would feel a slight tingle across her skin. The mage had her blood and her name now. "This does indeed sound like enough excitement. Now where are we going to hide this case?"

He was rather partial to that coat.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie eyed him up suspiciously when he did drop it; she had only known him for a short while but actually seeming to care and not want to wind someone up seemed completely at odds with his character. Now it was her turn to watch as he got dressed, leaning against the trunk of another tree and trying not to stress too much about the sensation that ran across her skin when he spoke her name. Her eyes followed the lines of some of the more interesting scars and thought about the cut on her own arm - were they all from his magic or were they wounds from other opponents? Was there a chance to kill him when her year was up and if he came knocking?

"This chest... is still coming with me after," it wasn't a question really just a statement of fact to ensure he knew she considered the treasures hers. Except his affects. Glancing around for a suitable place she nodded her head to a wide tree and began to drag it over there, hiding it in the hollow of its roots. Collecting a few of the fallen branches and leaves she filled the rest of it over to hide it entirely.

"There," Lottie dusted the dirt off her hands and glanced over to him. "Now are you ready?" She idly stepped in the direction they needed to head in and half turned to see if he was going too.

 

[Raziel]

"Yes, slowly and dragged inch by inch it will be going with you," mused Raziel. The tiefling had no shame in his form at all. As far as he was concerned he was a work of art who should be appreciated by all.

"I assume you are able to cast a glamour that will allow me to carry a weapon into this place?" he asked, knife back at his belt.

"And who shall I be appeared as seeing as you have secured invitations?" Despite the blood bond he hadn't let go of the notion that it could be a trap.