Circe stood backlit by the full light of the moon streaming in through the nearby window, and a hush fell over the crowd. She took a long moment to lap up blood red wine from the roughly hewn bowl on the stage, and when she straightened up, she slid her pink tongue across her lips in an obvious move that had those in the front row of the crowd salivating. And then, after the pregnant pause had grown long enough to start some patrons tittering excitedly, she began to sing. table by ferus, image by amphi, bg from unsplash |
It was not often that he made his way down south into the more 'civilized' areas of Rionnach but he was eager to find someone. No, not someone... Lye.
He had managed to slip past the border patrols unnoticed (and unknown to him) and make his way to Sussex; more specifically the Drunken Seagull. He'd heard through whispers from the shadows that this might be the place to go should you be looking for someone willing to do a less than savory job. He was tired of this game he played with himself and he was tired of pretending anything would take away this burning desire in his chest. It had been so long since he'd seen her and he'd tried his best to keep his mind off her but nothing seemed to work and so here he was, at a... a bar, he supposed, waiting to run into someone willing to do the dirty work for him. He didn't know how this all worked or if it he'd been led astray but he hadn't exactly found this place by asking. He was good at being ignored by most and good at listening to things that didn't concern him. So he plotted and planned, mulling over the idea in his mind until it festered, putrid and vile. He had decided to take her away from this so-called husband she'd claimed to have and keep her with him until she could see reason. Until she could love him again. Sinclair didn't think much past that goal, to reconstruct the life he'd once known in some manner. Maybe then they could leave this place and be rid of the past-- strike out together and start anew. He knew that his children would remain here for he would not seek them out. They likely hated him, or resented him from being absent either way they probably didn't need him in their lives at this point; grown beyond the need for a late father. His mouth twitched as he slid into a seat at the bar. He didn't know how any of this worked. The way these wolves lived in Rionnach was far different from the life he'd lived. It was all so foreign that it distracted him from his task at hand momentarily. His ears twitched as he noticed a crowd form, hooting and hollering for someone on stage. Sinclair blinked and looked up, his burning eyes lingering on the patchwork figure before him. She was... A breath left him as she began to sing and he watched from afar, from the shadows of the edge of the bar, until she finished her act and disappeared backstage. He pondered the feeling in his chest that urged him to follow her but he doubted he'd get close before being thrown out so he returned to his own plotting, though strangely less interested than moments before. The bar keep offered him something but he declined, having no means to pay for it, and strangely enough he was offered a small drink on the house. A drop of poison to get him hooked, no doubt, and begging for more. Sinclair thanked the man and pawed the bowl curiously. He was deep in thought when something knocked against his elbow and he looked up, bristling, only to be face to face with the beautiful woman from the stage earlier. "I hope this seat isn't taken..." she said, her mismatched eyes glinted in the low light. She looked... nothing like Lye. The complexity of her coat was endearing and the way her eyes sparkled might have run a shiver down his spine if he were younger and more nervous. He cracked a half-smile. She was probably used to men fawning over her; and why shouldn't she be? He huffed softly to himself and then returned his gaze to hers. |
The tunes of another filled her ears and yet she did not hear them as all focus lie upon the stranger who darkened the bar, shadows enveloping more than just the seat he’d taken as vibrant eyes greeted her in turn. Though that teasing grin never faded as lidded gaze peered up at him, a muzzle ducked as if she paid him little mind when in truth all focus lay upon him in these moments. Rumbling lyrics a welcome distraction from the drone which rose around them - from the jaunty jig so many where being drawn into in their drunken stupors. It was the same every night. table by ferus, image by amphi, bg from unsplash |
It was like all rational (or irrational) thought had slipped from his mind as he watched her. Her languid movements drew him in without even trying and somehow he found himself enamored with her within seconds. A small part of him argued that he was simply looking for a way out of more rejection and whatever he might face when capturing his heart again but what exactly was wrong with that? Maybe he was looking for a way out and maybe Circe could it to him.
His nose twitched slightly as she tapped the bar, beckoning the man behind it to get her a drink. He obliged quickly, granting her a ruby liquid that had a strong odor just as the drink within his own bowl did. The intensity with with his watched her heightened as her tongue flicked out to meet the liquid, drawing it up daintily as if she were a queen sipping her wine. He couldn't stop himself from imagining that tongue on his skin, what it might feel like... Her laughter rung him from his thoughts and he blinked, lashes fluttering slightly as a the curve of his lips tightened. His body stiffened as she leaned in closer and he inclined his chin toward her as she spoke, questioning him. She was so close he could touch her but he didn't dare, not yet. |