Her eyes met his from two tables away and a quiet thrill washed over the viewings form in a tingling cascade. I like to imagine they both felt it when that moment occurred, and it always occurred, a mutual awareness of a fated meeting. She smiled flirtatiously, tooth exposed, lips pulled into a relaxed curve by the corners. The air was humid and cool, it was colder outside. She was soaked to the bone, but she definitely wore it better in her arguably conservative dress of local, coarse brown fabric. The storm outside raged, and with the distant awareness of its violence, the tavern like visitors center was subdued, still bustling with people moving, eating and drinking. She wore a garment made for traveling and working, comfortable, tight and tough. It clung to a rain-slicked form in a manner that would have been indecent had it been a fabric thin enough. He nearly scoffed at first, and then read the body language, the sense of interest. She waited, she knew the calculations that went into that moment. He was around twice her size, wearing armor that probably weighed a good portion of what she did, a regal helm with its slatted visor and a hinged jaw hung from his belt, opposite a scabbard of brown leather with the hilt of some long blade sticking out of it. The moment of consideration ended and he gazed back with a more acute interest... at-least until the other knights he was sitting with noticed his drifting attention and said their name and they immediately looked back to his comrades, studiously pretending to ignore her while giving his comrades his full attention for a few moments... before returning to sneaking glances out of the corner of his eyes.
As uncomfortable as the waterlogged underclothing might have been, he was clearly different from them, armor more embellished, presence more solid, strong enough that the weight of all that metal was not so noticeable as the stiffness they enforced. The others were slouching, weighed down, exhausted. He was better equipped overall, potions, scrolls, bandoleers of items that oozed quality and wealth. As if to match his armor, the man was handsome and unweathered with a smooth chin that showed no evidence of ever having been shaved. Dark brown hair was clipped comparatively short and neat, the style of knights, if unremarkable. The princely mien was reinforced by the confidence and pride he projected. The board was set, he would be hers by the end of the night. Unlike him, with that barely tanned, creamy complexion, her skin was dusky, earthen dark, mildly weathered. They were shallowly underground, cunningly designed sandstone structure keeping cooler then the surface at day time and yet holding some of that heat at night, well ventilated enough that fire in the upper regions was no hazard to the air quality. Hot, and sharp, she sipped at a pewter cup of spiced wine, held two handed. It was something of a treat, something to be savored. Not so sweat as other variants, it was intently flavorful, hot, peppery heat, undercut with a pungent note of herbs. The moment after it went down her throat, their chest burned with heat as they breathed a little more easily. It wasn't nearly enough to get even her drunk, but it was the taste they preferred it for... and it covered one's breath.
It was getting late, and she was getting mildly impatient, after waiting all night and days before that, the end of the hunt was closing in and she let a unmistakable smirk of anticipation show on her face, for other patrons, and for the subject of her attentions. He couldn't have missed it, one of his knights certainly had noticed the silent exchange. Him and two others excused themselves from the common rooms and headed for their rented chambers, the hin-high being moving after them a polite few moments behind, splitting towards her own room. Hallways turned on sharp angles, rooms of different sizes laid out in a inconsistent, but calculated grid. Privacy was valuable in their culture, and space was something they had plenty of.
Her stop in her own room was brief, the small room had a desk, a bed and a small table with a mage-light orb, cheap but comfortable. She took off her dress, she took off her boots, a fresh splash of perfume, a dab of blush for the cheeks and off she went in just smallclothes with a currier bag. She knew where his room was, and even if she hadn't, he still smelled like the rain, as if a downpour had followed him inside, lighting the air amid all the stone and sweat and the trip was swift and silent, nobody saw her. Even if they had, she looked the part of someone going to another room to make a indecent proposal. Her smallclothes were a softer cloth, a warm vanilla that was as close to white as a commoner dare own. Solid, utilitarian fabric, a bit understated considering how her body was shaped. Her heartrate increased as she slowed and turned the corner for the short approach towards his room. Her bare feet, still wet slapped against the warm stone floor with deliberately careless steps.
“Hello, apologies for disturbing you at this late hour, but I'd like to beg a meeting of the young lord's time. Would you care to deliver a message?” Forward, uncomplicated, her manner of dress and body language said why she was there, or at-least what she wanted them to believe was her motive. She extended a small roll of parchment, produced from her bag to one of the exhausted, armored humans whom leaned over low to take it from her slightly raised hand. “I'll me sure to pass it along miss...?”
The parchment got crushed, but that was fine, she grasped the man's gauntleted fingers and pulled back and down, easily unbalancing the human and pulling him down on top of her with a grunt of surprise. That was one of the last noises he made as her other limb raised as if to catch the falling human, but really, the motion disguised a two finger strike that closed the distance between limb and eyeball far faster then the man actually fell. The warm, gelatinous orb came apart around fingers that were far harder then they should have been and the stiffened fingers continued through the stiffer,fibrous texture of connective tissue and nerve, all the way through to the brain. Around her hand, a portion of the ocular orbit crumpled in a quiet sound that was still perfectly audible to one of her kind as their fingers reached a more then sufficient depth. There wasn't all that much blood, much of it clear fluid that could be missed in the dim light. “Oof!” She pretended to stagger under the weight of the man, lowering him to the floor as his partner came to assist with sudden concern, but before he could, so much as lean over, the hin shaped hand lashed out again, striking the man's armored knee from the front and inside. The metallic shaping of the joint snapped, the guard crumpled inwards and the joint itself bowed out backwards, the metal forced into where flesh should be as the limb bent the wrong way. His breath few in, as if to shout in shock and pain, but the hin was ready, as he started to drop on the collapsing limb, she reached up and yanked the man by the collar into their right arm. Her left hand transitioning to his jaw while her right grasped the back of his head, by which they twisted the man's head clockwise against his shoulders. He was also “gently” lowered to the floor and nudged to either side of the doorway. Time was short now, they didn't know if the man inside had heard the brief scuffle and despite the time of night, there were two bodies out in the open. In either case, she didn't bother searching for a key, using a wand of knock hidden in that small bag and wiped her hand on a small square of cloth before letting themselves inside.
He appeared to have his guard down, lounging on the bed in a clean set of underarmor. White cloth, with silvery detailing around the neck, appearing silken soft. In the enclosed space, his scent was obvious, a fresh rainstorm, clouds and water vapor refined into a single scent. She could smell it clearly, even over her perfume. Orchids and spring flowers, imported, sweet without being cloying, inoffensive. He expressed minimal surprise at her arrival, she was expected at some point, even if coming inside that first night might have been a bit aggressive. She stalked towards the bed with that same grin and he took a deep inhale. “Hello, miss. I don't suppose your here for a nightcap?” She gave a sly grin and shook her head, climbing onto the bed. He got mostly the scent of flowers with a hint of other things. Closer still, closing for a kiss. “No, I didn't think so, might I have a name?” “Mmnh, If your good enough, I'll tell you in the morning.” A challenge, a poke at his pride, the information of his inquiry made a prize, the use of the game to gate essential information behind a point hours in the future. Her mind buzzed, the world seemed slower. He sniffed her again, trying to puzzle out the answers some part of him was increasingly concerned about. Her breath smelled like spiced wine, that could easily explain her bravado, her expression. If there was something else, his lust overwhelmed his caution. She climbed on his chest, tongue's danced, lips worked against lips. She felt many things, anticipation, satisfaction, her success growing closer, probably not what he was feeling and... he must have finally smelled that something he didn't like as he tried to throw her off, but she read the stiffness that proceeded the reaction and she pulled on a portion of her weight, his upper body and her knee sinking deep into the bed, ruining his leverage before he could utilize it. The kiss was broken and his noble face was marred by a vicious snarl with a hint of panic. His arms flailed, trying to strike her, but she was too small, too high, and clearly more experienced at using her humanoid form. The caught his forelimb with her hindlimb, her left hand pinning the out of position limb against her chest as the far more concentrated fore strained and twisted their hips, Oncemore, that sound like ice crackling, splintering under pressure as the mangled limb ceased being able to transmit pressure, reshaping around her limbs with disturbing flexibility. From the strangled roar quashed against her shoulder dug into his neck, it was exceedingly unpleasant. She didn't care, he was the enemy, he would have done worse, he had done worse, probably to many before this fateful meeting. There was a certain intimacy to the moment, he knew he had lost and she knew he had lost as he battered at her ribs with his free hand, but the angle was poor and so was his technique, for all his power. She wrapped their other forelimb around his neck and grasped his chest from the side with her hindlimbs in concert and pulled upwards. Bones crackled and spinal disk popped and shifted under the pressure, the silver's body going limb under them until, finally, a rip and a inch more of extension was achieved and his chest stilled.
She didn't stay much longer, she had done what she came to do. The bodies out in the hall were dragged inside and she retraced her steps back to her room in silence. They were already contemplating the appropriate level of sorrow to display when the body was discovered. She laid out in bed, consciousness fading as her mind calmed, a sense of satisfaction their last thoughts as the vision too, ended.
Culmination - Gahiji's donation.
