Private Tales The Far Fallen..

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
This was Cyrus. The one who'd personally made sure he'd gone through hell since the moment he'd stepped into Elbion. This was the man who kept Neith as a glorified slave girl and chained her with the health and safety of her own father, who'd tried to sell Cassidy out for a stack of coin. For some reason though, Ackerson felt so much calmer now than he had before he'd caught sight of the two of them struggling through the door.

Perhaps it was Neith's presence. Bloodied and battered though she was, she was alive. That meant Cassidy hadn't lost, and his efforts to get this far hadn't been in vain.

So there was only one thing left standing between Cassidy, Neith, and freedom. That was this brute of a man, wrapped in the stench of out-of-control magic that made him want to wrinkle his face and retch. That was fine. If Ackerson was a betting man, he wouldn't like Cyrus' chances. Even if the druglord did manage to take him down, the mercenary wouldn't be dying alone. He'd doomed himself the moment he put his hands on Cass's girl.

Cassidy circled the room in time with Cyrus, keeping his blade pointed at him as they orbited around the center of the large open room like the moon and the sun in the sky. "It takes a scumbag thief to beat a scumbag thief..." Cassidy snapped at his mention of Neith as his own property. "But I'm just taking back what you stole from somebody else."

The tension in the air could have been cut with a dull knife, and the only sounds that weren't the jeering voices of their traded taunts were the soft echo of their footsteps as they stood off, the calm before a bloody storm.

"You think you're so powerful when I've fought a dozen just like you. You hide your own weakness by preying on the ones who you know won't fight back. You surround yourself with feeble-minded muscle so you don't have to step up yourself..."

Neith took advantage, elbowing him hard in the gut and sending him staggering for the briefest of moments before he grabbed her and hurled her against the wall with a sickening impact. Cassidy winced, but to worry about Neith now would only give Cyrus the advantage when Neith had just taken a heavy blow to give Cass a momentary opportunity.

In the second and a half that Cyrus took his eye off of Cassidy, he charged forward, swinging Damascus back and bringing it forward in a slash meant to end things quickly.

Cyrus was obviously stronger than the average kingpin, and Cass didn't expect it to be so easy, but he at least had to feel things out.


Neith
 
She felt herself break. She knew she couldn't move, could feel blood seep into her clothes, but had the air not been thrown so violently from her lungs and the collision hadn't knocked her dizzy, she might've screamed at the white hot pain searing through her. Cyrus was lost and blind to his fury, only that could have caused him to risk killing her. If Cyrus won this fight, she'd die just to spite him.

For now though, she clung to consciousness as tightly as she could, her bleary eyes blinking heavily as she tried to focus on Cassidy. The distraction had cost Cyrus a deep slash across his chest and arm, but he'd moved quickly enough for the blow to have been fatal. He bled like any other man, he hissed and swore and snarled, but the wound only seemed to stoke his fury further.

"Clever." he growled and swung a fist that she'd seen knock out a troll.
 
Neith was in bad shape, Cassidy could tell from the one glance he did take in her direction.

He could heal her, but not with this hulk breathing down his neck.

There was no more talking to be done with him now, Cyrus needed to die.

Luckily, he made the mistake of assuming that this was a one-on-one fight.

It looked that way, sure. The only thing standing between the drugged-up ringleader and his 'property' was this little redheaded mercenary with a mouth too big for his own good and a flashy-looking sword. When he swung his fist forward, though, it was clear that Cassidy wasn't as alone as he looked.

Ackerson held Damascus up to catch the blow, and a barrier of magical energy surrounded the blade at the last moment, catching his clubbing blow and deflecting it back. Ariella's will, the spirit that she'd left inside Cassidy's sword kept him alive.

But Cass knew it wouldn't last forever, he needed to end this before the magic waned.

Stepping forward after parrying Cyrus's fist, he took another long swing, but he wasn't planning to run him through so easily; the move was just slow enough that Cass was all but certain his foe would get out of the way, which is why he dropped to the ground as he swung, swinging his legs forward to meet Cyrus's ankles.

The oaf was burly, but he looked awfully top-heavy too.

Hang on, Nee. Be done in a minute, hopefully...

Neith
 
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Neith could feel every drop of blood and every kernel of the magic that she stored as it leaked onto the floor, the blood a glistening crimson, the magic a silvery mist. She tried to breathe it back in, but failed to pull in a strong enough breath to hold it. She grimaced as she moved, pressing her palm to the floor and splaying her fingers, feeling the floor tremble under the weight of the fight. What little concentration she had was on whatever she could do to help, which was unlikely to be very much at all.

The puddles of mist moved like water toward her bloody hand, and from there it travelled in tendrils toward Cyrus. The entire building shuddered and creaked as the man fell, as though he held the weight of ten anvils within him. The fury that he roared with rung in her ears, and her eyes squeezed shut with a grimace.

Hold him down.

Kyril's voice whispered through her mind, reminding her of what the mage had taught her. She could harness the magic she stole, she could wield it, and whilst she still lived it would be tethered to her. Hold. Him. Down. She willed it. She pleaded with it as her hand balled into a fist. The wispy fingers curled around Cyrus' arm as he attempted to push himself up. His expression shifted from madness to confusion, and then to sudden realisation as he looked toward Neith.

Another snake of magic coiled its way around his other arm before he could launch another attack on any of them. His strength wasn't lost on her as he pulled against the bindings lashing him to the floor. Her clenched fists shook as she fought against her own pain. Cass wouldn't have long. A few seconds at most, whilst the crime boss hurled his venom-coated string of threats and promises of how slow and painful he intended their deaths to be..
 
Cassidy was putting on a strong face, and every swing he made with the blazing red blade was devastating. However, each time he reared back for another attack only to be dodged or graze Cyrus, there was just a little less power behind it.

He was exhausted, and the power coursing through the sword was draining quickly. Cassidy knew it, and Cyrus probably did too, the cocky son of a bitch smirking at him with that face that could scare the glum off a drow. It only made Cassidy exert himself even harder, strain himself to keep pace with the deceptively fast freakshow. It wasn't until Cyrus managed to sidestep a vertical swing and dig a fist into Cassidy's still sore ribs that the redhead slowed down, crumpling to the ground coughing and wheezing.

The iron taste of blood filled his mouth, and the entire right side of his body felt numb and on fire at the same time. Cyrus's fist was like a damned ballista. The mercenary couldn't stand, his knees felt like liquid. The brute above him said something... Cass couldn't hear what it was, but he responded anyways.

"Fuck --cough-- you."

That cough had brought a fresh red spatter of blood with it, and Cass looked down at it with disgust as it mingled with the thick white mist that snaked around him towards Cyrus.

Wait. What?

Looking up, he met the eyes of a man now bound by two tendrils of an all-too-familiar white mist holding his arms apart. In those eyes, he saw something he hadn't just a moment earlier. There was fury, bloodlust... but there was also just a smattering of fear there too.

"Neith, you beautiful woman. I'm gonna have to find a ring at this point."

It was as though all the pain in his body melted away, all the exhaustion crumbled to dust as Ackerson gripped his sword and sprang to his feet. If this didn't finish him, nothing would. With all the strength he had left, every ounce of anger that had built up since he'd arrived in this cursed city, Cassidy swung at Cyrus' neck.

Neith
 
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Her body shook with pain as she held on for dear life, for Cassidy's life. She could feel Cyrus pull back, and feel her grip slip as her vision darkened. The boss' fury was a palpable thing, thick and terrifying as molten lava. If he broke her hold or survived whatever last shot Cassidy had, at least he'd make their death's quick.

The man poured her name from the burning pit of his chest as he roared, the sound like a curse, but he didn't get the chance to finish it. She heard the spatter of blood, the wet gasp and gurgle of a man drawing his own blood into his lungs instead of breath. The second she was sure that Cass had taken the advantage, she let go, and her body stilled.

Cyrus stood there for a long moment, and even as death drew in fast, the blind fury in his face never altered. He wasn't afraid to die, he was enraged to die, and he stared unblinking at the redhead as though trying to will himself to continue the fight. A slight sway and a single step forward was all he managed before he crashed to the floor.
 
Damascus hit its target, the tip slicing through Cyrus' throat like butter. A fountain of crimson was struck like oil from a barren desert, and the moment the scarlet liquid shot from the man's neck Cassidy closed his eyes and released his grip on his sword, letting it clatter to the ground alongside him as both he and Cyrus hit the floor with two solid thuds of mass.

Silence. Nothing but the sound of breathing filled the room. They'd won, against an army of gangsters and the mutated boss of them all they'd come out on top.

Gods, it hurt all over. Cass wanted to sleep more than anything in the world, his body so completely drained of energy that he could barely feel the cold floor against his back, or the warm blood from his fallen foe seeping into his clothes.

And in any other circumstance, he probably would have laid there for some time, just... processing.

Somebody was waiting for him though, and Ackerson struggled back up to his feet, the edges of his vision cloudy and muddled as he limped over to Neith.

"Nee... I'm here... It's over."

He dropped to his knees beside her, the glowing (albeit dim) form of Mar emerging from nowhere to press against her as well, offering what little it had to sustain her.

All Cassidy could do was lean over and rest his head against her own. Praying she was still there, still with him.

Neith
 
Gods she had tried to stay awake, but the allure of rest, whether eternal or not, was too pleasant a thing for her to fight any longer. There was no pain after she let her eyes close and her body rest, her mind drifted into a peaceful abyss of absolute nothingness.

Alive but barely, she knew he was there. She knew she had to breathe, to grab hold of a single kernel of life that she could strengthen. Her broken body was entirely still. Lifeless, in fact, until his head pressed to hers and there was the most subtle of movements in her chest as she drew a shallow breath. And another.

"Good job... Ackerson.." she huffed with a slight twitch of her lips, her brow furrowing as every ounce of pain that riddled her body came flooding back. She fought to open her eyes, and battled harder still to stay awake. Tears filled her eyes and washed streaks through the drying blood on her face.

"I can't move.." her voice shuddered and cracked. Something in her spine was broken. She'd felt it snap, and now there was nothing she could move. The feeling was terrifying, as was the cold chill that'd settled over her. They couldn't stay here, and she thought of telling him to go, but she knew he wouldn't and she didn't have much breath to waste.

"Lyrum.. Downstairs." Where she had violently murdered Jax, and where her father lay dead.
 
It was bad. Really bad. The few words that his lover was able to speak were spoken in an ugly gurgle of her own blood and waves of shivering pain. The sheer force with which she'd been slammed into the wall was enough to shatter her back, and while Cass had hoped she'd be lucky, it seemed it wasn't so. For all of the 10 seconds he watched her after she spoke, it felt like an hour.

Cassidy felt the tears boiling from his eyes as he looked down at the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes upon so broken and beaten. Not like this. Cassidy hadn't worked so hard, fought through scores of men, and taken down an Elbion kingpin for her to die. They were supposed to escape together, lift each other up and keep each other going. Without her... if she left him now.

What would the point be?"

The Lyrum. She reminded him of the strange drug they'd been making here, presumably the stuff that made Cyrus as strong as a damned Minotaur with plate armor. Perhaps that would be enough to get her through this. Pulling himself to his feet, he dropped his sword next to her and gestured towards Neith with a finger. "Mar, keep her going for a minute. Just... do what you can while I..." His lungs ran out of breath and he stumbled to the door as the blade faintly glowed. Faintly indeed. Whatever power it had left was placed into the barely visible form of a cat, cuddling with the broken woman, lending it what it had to offer.

Cassidy braced himself on the walls as he descended the staircase, all but falling into the room within. The door opened and immediately the smell of death and chemicals assaulted his nostrils. Two corpses: an elderly man and a younger, muscular one, lie dead on the floor. Cassidy winced, knowing damned well who they were, and not wanting to think too much about it.

There, on the table. One vial of the strange blue drug remained; his last hope. Stepping over the bodies, he reached out and took it in his hand, sliding it into his pocket for fear of dropping it, before stopping just short of the door. Ackerson cast one last look to her father, cringing, but also feeling a sense of duty...

"I'll take care of her. I promise."

Cassidy hadn't been able to help her save him. He wasn't going to fail in saving her too.



"Here. I have it. Quickly now..."

Cassidy knelt beside Nee, uncorking the vial and holding it out towards her, the visage of Mar fading from view as the last of Damascus' energy depleted for now. Cass wasn't sure if this was ingested or injected, but he certainly didn't have any needles on him, so he would just have to hold on to hope.

"Come on... this has to work."

Neith
 
Pain had receded to numbness and her breathing grew slow and shallow. Her body and heart were broken and tears formed in a steady flow from her eyes but thanks to Mar, she was comfortable. "I'm sorry.." she sighed to the cat currently curling up on her chest, hoping she would somehow tell him that. She didn't want to leave him, but the darkness at the corners of her vision was growing and she didn't know how much longer she could fight the urge to let herself fall into sleep, or further.

Her eyes closed, and opened again as she felt a paw on her chin, batting at her each time sleep pulled her under.

Cassidy's voice was next to rouse her mind, but her eyes wouldn't open. She could barely hear him, let alone respond, but her mouth opened enough to take in the vial of ghostly blue liquid.

For a long moment, nothing happened, at least not on the surface. The Lyrum spread into her bloodstream. It was a pleasant feeling until it reached the broken bones and started binding them back together. The damage was reversed as quickly as it was caused, audible snaps wracked her body and she drew in a deep gasp before letting it out in a growled groan through her gritted teeth as her back arched from the bloody floor.

Ribs cracked back into place, her spine snapped three separate times, each one a more sickening sound than the last, but she didn't scream. She reached for Cassidy as she sat up, pulling herself to him as her body mended and shook violently. The pain didn't last too long, thankfully, and as it subsided she focused on breathing, her face buried into the crook of Cassidy's neck as she held onto him for dear life and cried.

"I love you, Cass. I love you..so much." she sobbed against him. She'd almost left him without telling him so, because of fear, and the guilt of that hurt more than any other pain.

"I'm sorry."
 
Cass couldn't have imagined that watching Neith come back together would be almost as terrifying as watching her break apart. For a while after the strange blue liquid passed her lips, he worried he'd been too late to save her, looking down at her still frame with a ghastly look of disbelief. When she suddenly arched, a terrifying series of cracks and snaps echoing out from underneath her flesh, Cassidy jumped back slightly, eyes flittering all over her frame, trying to discern if this unsettling display was a positive sign or a bad omen.

Had he killed her? Was her request for lyrum merely a plead for a mercy killing? The way she writhed and screamed... it was horrific, and still, he couldn't tear his eyes away. It wasn't until her arms shot up and grabbed onto his coat, pulled herself up, and buried herself against his chest that the concern that she was leaving him slowly began to dissipate, and instead, the dam holding his welling emotion broke down.

Cassidy wrapped his arms around her, pushing his face into the crook of her neck as she whimpered into his clothes. The words she spoke should have been more meaningful to him, but he'd already known. There hadn't been a doubt in his mind that she felt the same as he had. In a short few days, he'd connected to her more than he'd ever connected to another, and the relief of not being left alone again... that was all that he needed to keep going.

"It's okay, Nee..." He muttered into her ear. "It's okay... It's all over."
 
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Fingers found the crimson locks at the nape of his neck and combed and curled into it. He was here, he was safe. They were alive.

'It's okay.. It's all over..'

For a time she simply held on and tears flowed freely as she focused on breathing again. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice muffled against his collar before she pulled back to look over his face. Her bloody hands trembled as they came to settle on his cheeks and she pressed one kiss, and then another, and another to his lips.

He couldn't be okay. She'd been victim to Cyrus' brutality more than once, but Cassidy was alive and that was what mattered most. They could heal.
 
Cassidy was battered and bruised, most certainly he'd broken those ribs she'd healed the night prior, and every last drop of energy he'd had was spent. His body felt like little more than a heavy sack of bones and flesh, held up my numb muscles. He'd watched the thread of his lover's life nearly sever right before his eyes.

Simply put, he felt like hell. But Neith's lips on his sent life into his veins as though every bit of herself the Lyrum had given her back was siphoned into his body, and his arms wrapped tightly around her as she peppered him with her affection.

"I will be..." Cassidy muttered back, face moving to bury in the crook of her neck if only to hide the tears in his eyes. "Once I get you out of here and take you home with me where you belong..."
 
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She held him for a while, regardless of the bloodbath around them. Her mind took some time to catch up, and now it fought past the pain and fear and relief and settled on the reality of their situation right now. Cyrus was gone. She drew a deep breath against him, and nodded.

"We can go wherever we want.." she croaked out quietly, and sighed at the tightness in her chest. Her father wouldn't be coming with them. "Let me collect some things, and we can go." she whispered with a kiss to his cheek before she rolled onto her feet to step over Cryus' body without a care.

Her body still bore the memory of her pain even as she healed, it still thrummed with a dizzying amount of adrenaline, or more likely, Lyrum. She washed her face and hands and changed the bloodied clothes that she wore. She collected her takings from beneath the loose floor board, and collected what Cyrus had left of his own behind the loose bricks in his study wall, and she pulled on a thick, sheepskin coat before lifting her father's body into his bed and tucking him in, and saying her goodbyes.

The sun had cast the city in a golden hue by the time they made it back to the boat house where she helped Cassidy sit back amongst a pile of pillows. "Rest now, and tomorrow.." she smiled, hauling a satchel from her shoulder and letting it land with a dull thud before she opened it. Precious stones and gold coins filled the thing entirely, with thanks to an old friend. "We live any life we want to live."
 
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The trip back to the boathouse was a blur to Cassidy. He vaguely processed Neith collecting some things and going downstairs to where her father had been left for a moment before she returned and all but carried him back to where they'd spent their first night as a couple together. Funnily enough, that makeshift mattress they'd made the day before felt more like home to him than any place he'd slept in years, and by the time Neith had him settled and had cleaned herself up, the bloodied and unkempt redhead was fast asleep, a smile on his face for the first time since the battle against Cyrus.

Still, even in his slumber, when Nee joined him on the mattress his arms raised up to hold her close against his chest. And he kept her there in his embrace all the way until the next dawn rose. He didn't have a home in the traditional sense. But he had Nee, and she was all the home he would ever need.

Cass felt the aches that seemed to radiate from every bone in his body before he opened his eyes to the sunlight peeking in through the clouded windows of the boathouse, but they were far lessened from the night before. Ackerson wondered for a moment if maybe the warm ball of a woman snuggled up against his tattered clothes had something to do with that...

He looked down at her, a smile growing on his face as he leaned down, pressing his lips softly to the resting pout of the dozing beauty he'd somehow managed to find along this latest journey, and then another soon after that. Cassidy's hand traveled up to slowly run through her hair, his voice a low hum as he spoke to rouse her from sleep.

"Were you working on me last night? I feel so much better..."
 
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She had spent much of the night awake. She’d cried over her losses and pondered gratefully over her gains, and yes, she had perhaps put the excess Lyrum in her blood to good use. Then she’d watched him sleep more comfortably, and at some point she too had drifted off to the sound of his steady breaths.

Her lips curled slightly at the waking touch of his, and she sighed deeply at the soothing sensation of his fingers combing through her hair. A dimple appeared at the corner of her lips as he spoke.. “Just a little..”

Dark eyes narrowed against the soft light as she forced them to open and blink away the sleep, and she reached her hand to his bruised face. “We’re quite the sight…” she laughed under her breath and studied him for a moment as she woke..

“Thank you.. For keeping me alive..”
 
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Quite the sight indeed. Whatever was in that Lyrum was extremely potent; if Cassidy hadn't seen her yesterday, he wouldn't have any idea the state she'd been looking at her now. In small doses, perhaps the strange drug had a place in the world as a medicinal... but he was getting ahead of himself.

Ackerson's neck tilts, his cheek pressing against her hand as she stroked the scruff on his face. "Mmm... A pretty thing like you cuddled up to a man covered in bloody clothes, a bag of riches on the floor next to them, and both of them needing a bath like nobody's business..."

Her gratitude was appreciated, but in the grand scheme of things Cassidy it meant little. They'd helped each other. Given one another things that they had both only dreamed of ever having. Keeping her alive? Of course. She was all he had. "Can't have you dying, Nee. Too much we haven't gotten to do yet. Places we haven't gotten to go... I've got a long list."
 
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She couldn't help but laugh, despite how she felt. She couldn't help but kiss him as he spoke of their future, and it was selfish, perhaps, but she wanted it all so badly. Her father would have wanted her to have it, too. He'd said as much each time she'd had a chance to run, but she couldn't have left him there alone. Now she had grief to contend with, but at least she had the freedom to do it and, she had Cass.

"How about.." she asked as she leaned to press kiss after kiss between every few words.. "We pack up whatever we need here... We get ourselves some fancy new clothes... And we charter the best private cabin - with a bath- on the best ship in the port... And we just, go wherever it takes us...?"

She grinned against his lips. "We can be whoever and whatever we want." she sighed, her thumb caressing his cheek. Her shoulders still ached from the heavy weight so recently lifted from them, but she had spent so many years doing terrible things, being something she hadn't wanted to be, that she wasn't entirely sure who she really was.

"Being yours is a good start." she smirked.
 
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Sailing away on a fancy ship with a fresh identity and nobody to hold either of them back... It sounded like the kind of thing Cass dreamed of in his lowest moments to push him through until tomorrow. That there was even a remote possibility of making it a reality... Nee couldn't fathom what it meant to him, if not for the heated yet feather-light kisses that met each of hers as she spoke.

Damn it, the girl was intoxicating. That little brush of her thumb on his cheek, the way her lips twisted into a grin against his, the little giggles that left her throat. Absolutely irresistible. "You get me a ship like that, alone with you, you might not ever get me to leave it." Cass was only half-joking, too. That was all he'd ever need to be happy.

Well, aside from taking his family name and home back, but baby steps.

"I do think we've earned a long bit of alone time after the mess we've made." Ackerson murmured against her lingering kiss, his hands sliding slowly up and down the length of her back, his smile growing wider. "I'm in no hurry to get into another drug war, are you?"
 
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"Who says we have to? We're wealthier than half of the families in Oban.." she laughed under her breath at the magnitude of that reality. And it had all come from the worst sorts of people, so there was little guilt to be felt in it. Even the silver she'd slipped from the brute in the alleyway the day she'd met Cass would be happily spent on making their lives better in some way.

"No.. No I am not." she answered with a dry laugh, and her smile faltered as she glanced to the cut on her palm.. "But I.. Am in a hurry to leave this place. There are many who know me here, many whom I'd be of value to. Some have tried to take me from Cyrus over the years but he was too strong, but now that he's gone.. The moment news spreads they'll look for me." she latched her teeth onto her lower lip.

"I'm the only one who can make Lyrum, Cass." she frowned. "I.. should have told you that. Without my blood, there is no Lyrum. It's not safe here for us."
 
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After struggling to stay on his feet ever since he'd fled from Oban, it certainly felt nice to have that kind of financial security, even if the cost had almost been far too high for him. Now, they weren't restricted by coin on where they could do, or what they could do. Once they got out of the City, at least. Jimo was still out there, and by now he'd have come around and sent out word to hunt down Cassidy. It wasn't safe here, not by a long shot.

Neith seemed to recognize that too, although once she shared the reason she'd be so sought after, Cassidy's brows shot up high. Maybe he should have been more shocked than he was, but really it made far too much sense to be groundbreaking to him. Pursing his lips at her confession, he pulled her closer to him with a little sigh. "Doesn't matter. Once whatever Lyrum is still out there on the streets dries up that'll be the end of it. I won't have you exploited anymore."

All that anybody in this damned city saw in his Nee was a drug factory. Made him want to leave even faster, get away from these animals before they tried making a mule out of his girl again. Shifting a bit, Cassidy rose to his feet, stretching his sore muscles and looking down at his bloodstained clothes with a wince.

"Well, we're leaving, but I ain't walking out onto the street in this. Is my bag still here?" He looked around until he found the sack he'd left the first time they'd come to the boathouse, and dug through it until he found his spare closes, shedding his old and changing. "So, this is a boathouse, so I'm assuming we don't have to look far for our ride out?"
 
She knew her father had loved her, but even he had never tried to protect her from this place and these people. Nobody ever had, before Cass. Her chest ached as he pulled her closer and offered his reassurances, and for once she was more than happy to drop the independence and let him look after her..

Her eyes swept over the bruising that had spread over his torso, and she only hoped they didn't feel as bad as they looked. She had done what she could with what she had left to heal and dampen the pain, but time would need to do the rest. They would have time, now.. So much of it.

Neith grinned at the thought and shook her head.

"A short walk, the right ship, and we're out of here." she sighed deeply and rolled herself to her feet, her fingertips dragging down his arm as she passed him to pick up the small music box from a barrel. "I suppose I'll need to leave a lot of things behind.." she frowned softly with a look around the trove of trinkets she had collected and protected over the years..
 
Neith's lingering touch never failed to send a little shiver down his spine. What a woman. Still, a sad expression sat on his face as he watched her pick up the music box and muse about the things she'd need to leave behind. Cassidy understood. When he ran from Oban, all he had was Damascus and Mar. Everything else, the things he'd loved and cherished... they all stayed behind.

It was gut-wrenching.

Clenching his teeth, Cass brings a hand underneath him to get on his feet, despite the complaints of his body. "Well, look at it this way..." He grunted as he steadied himself on his feet before walking over and looping his arms around her waist from behind. "We'll get new things. Things that represent our lives. No, Our -life-. Together."

Pressing his lips briefly to the back of her neck, Cassidy pulled away, gathering what he had in the Boathouse and moving it over to the door. A lot of his own stuff was still at Jimo's, he'd realized, but none of it was so important to put them in further danger.

"C'mon, Nee. Let's get the hell out of here. I wanna hear what you have in mind for us first as soon as we're on the water."
 
Neith sighed as she studied the music box, her heart heavy with loss and yet as she felt his arms around her and listened to his voice, as she felt his lips on the back of her neck, her heart was also bursting with love. It was a first for her to know that she couldn't live without him now. She had always been independent, needing nothing and nobody, but Cassidy had changed that in the best possible way. He'd saved her life, in more ways than one.

"Yes.. You're right." she smiled softly and gathered what little she couldn't leave behind, and cast one last look over the little sanctuary she'd built for herself here. She would miss it only because it gave her some semblance of solitude, but it was only ever temporary.

"Let's go.." she nodded, drawing her hood up and taking Cassidy's hand to head out onto the docks. They were quiet, thankfully, and silently she wondered how long it would be before the city guards were swarming the bordello and how quickly news would spread..

There were three ships due to set sail, one - a passenger ship, the other two merchant vessels. One of those merchant vessels in particular was dripping in wealth. Her brow quirked as she looked up at Cass with a smirk..

"That looks like our ride.."
 
This little boathouse was a place he'd only stayed two nights with Neith, but he'd miss it too. This was where the two of them had their first moment of true closeness, the first night she'd slept snugly in his arms. He'd always remember it for that. Even so, they weren't safe here anymore and both of them knew that. Maybe once things had calmed down, they could sneak back and take some of the stuff they were leaving.

Who knows how long that would be?

Cass held Neith's hand tightly as they opened the back door of the boathouse to step right out onto the quiet docks. Considering all of the chaos they'd just endured, the peace and quiet that hung in the salty air was heavenly, and Cass felt his fingers tighten around Nee's, a deep breath filling his lungs and a smile crossing his lips. The sounds of the water gently crashing against the waiting ships made a symphony in his head.

It was like a song of freedom.

"And what do you know? They seem to have left their ride with minimal protection. I know we're going clean, but one last little theft can't hurt us now, can it?"

Cassidy stepped away from Neith, looking back at her with a wink as he hopped from the dock onto the gaudy vessel, sure that she'd follow. There were a few hired guards keeping watch over the ship, but he didn't figure they would be problems for him... The promise of more time alone with Nee suddenly had him feeling much sprier. They had a lot to catch up on, after all.

He didn't kill anybody, rather the sound of shouts followed by splashes of water would be the signal that their path was clear. As long as the poor saps could swim, they'd be just fine.

Once that was done, the real question came to his mind.

"Don't suppose you have any idea how to drive this thing...?"
 
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