Anything But Ordinary

Iris Beckett | 22 | Human Well-behaved women rarely make history. *Character blog for Children of Athoria RP*

[irisbeckett]

Happy Valentines Day

Found under their wishing tree inside a bundle of fresh fabrics from England. Tucked inside is a crudely written note:

Hey Kitty,

I miss you…always.

Maybe one day we can meet in the middle and just stay? I think about that often no matter the knowing answer, Ill keep checking ya know? Maybe sometime you will gift me with saying yes…

I love you. My best friend. My companion. I’d be lost with out you.

Be safe for me, Happy Valentines Day Shi-boy

***********

She smiled when she saw the bundle tucked in the little hollow of their ribbon tree. Reading the first line of his letter, she softly replied aloud, "I miss you, too."

It was true, and she missed him even more as she pulled the locket from its wrapping and watched it dangle and shine in the sunlight. She fastened the chain around her neck and felt the metal settle next to the arrowhead pendant. Iris wrapped her hand around both gifts and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Soon, Shiloh. Soon."

[irisbeckett]

[irisbeckett]

A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing // Self // A Grand Occasion SWP

You have been cordially invited to a party at Markham Manor in celebration of Queen Chandra’s visitation to Athoria. Please arrive dressed to impress, and we hope to see you there! -Queen Markham

After struggling for nearly half an hour to read the overly flowery handwriting scrawled on the parchment, she finally asked Gage to read the letter to her. She was certain she would never understand why there was a need for such large words and fancy writing, but she couldn’t very well argue with one of the vampires’ aristocracy. Even after her few encounters with Miss Markham, she knew that the invitation was less a request and more of an order, at least in her case. One would think that the absence of a young human woman with oddly-colored hair would go unnoticed and matter little to someone so powerful, but not so with the Queen of the De La Nuit. If she expected you to be there, it was best that you make an appearance.

Iris worried that her dress wouldn’t live up to the high expectations of a regal party such as this one. She had made it a few years ago but had yet to wear it, not even to the masquerade party she’d infiltrated the previous fall. She’d put her heart and soul into the design and it was a work of art in her eyes, but so often the things she found beautiful were little more than mundane or even outlandish to others. Still, it was better than any other dress she had in her possession, save for her mother’s wedding gown, which she was not willing to risk being spoiled by a tipped glass or misstep on her part.

So here she found herself, standing outside of Markham Manor, gazing up at the grand exterior, hoping she looked the part she was supposed to play. Her pine green locks were carefully braided and pulled back to reveal her face while still covering the tender skin of her neck. She’d weaved a few fresh pink flowers into her hair, matching those made of silk sewn onto her dress rather nicely. Her arms were covered by sheer lace gloves that stretched over her elbows and had been carefully cleaned to be as white as possible.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, one of the few in attendance who would require such a human act, and walked into the foyer to join the party.

[rylan-ianson-blog]

Kindred || Rylan / Iris

Malcolm was ridiculous. And handsomely distracting.  And Night Haven was not what he expected.

He had reserved thoughts on the city coming up to it, but the personality of the place was obvious in the state of Union it held. Rylan had met Michael only once before, and only because of Malcolm had the encounter happen at all in passing. The doll had slightly tarnished feelings over the man if only because he wished he would be home. Feeling a lost connection in the grand scheme of things involving royalty, and the Striga in general when Darius was keen on keeping him close. It went beyond his understanding that Michael didn’t want to be King, thinking the opportunity to rule was not just a large burden but an enormous, needed undertaking. Rylan painfully wanted to understand all there was about the Kingdom he lived under alongside his human one.

Though, in it all Rylan also didn’t find particular want to meet his child either, those memories vivid in detail and never, ever forgotten. It left a bitter taste on his tongue thinking on those words of lacked importance when he was now given such opportunity to travel with the Royal family. The male shook those thoughts away, knowing how loud his emotions could be, and he was more excited over the idea of meeting Iris than anything. Knowing he wasn’t really welcome in the main meeting of Chandra and her son.

Thirst was homey, and Rylan felt a little out of place walking in with his nice London clothes, and long blonde hair. The air changed easily in the space, not from his entrance by any means, but he did exchange a few words with Malcolm over his safety earlier which he had been reassured with. Catching the colorful strands of who he assumed was the woman of his desired attentions Rylan parted with a polite exit to smooth hands down his navy tunic. Eyes darting briefly to meet a few people in hope he would be alright in here, he managed to grow his smile easily, and when he caught her eye he waved lightly, shifting to find his way closer to her so he could at least say a proper hi.

"Hello Iris right?" he smiled brightly, teasing up to his eyes. English accent thick in comparison to everyone’s chatter around him. For the briefest moment he felt back in Hereford, that sinking feeling he was dressed too nice like he was more important than he was. But he owned it on the outside, that of confidence far from congesting and truly one of genuine pleasure to meet her. "Rylan Ianson, I was told about you on the way up with Queen Chandra that you worked for Michael? I was requested to run along and drag you with me with orders of seeing the city. Are you game for humoring a London man who currently has a bag full of toys to hand out to some of the kids around here? There are kids here right? If not we can always get into some fun if you like."

[irisbeckett]

The thought of playing host to royalty and getting to rub elbows with people she otherwise would never have met in her lifetime should have been thrilling to her, but there was a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite overcome. She tried to push it from her mind as an effect from what transpired in the dungeons below Brailston just a few weeks prior, but she couldn't help but feel there was more to it than that.

Thirst had undergone a small transformation in the few weeks leading up to the arrival of Michael's sire. While the tavern was always well-maintained and actually one of the better establishments of its kind in Athoria, extra effort had been put forth into making it fit for aristocracy of vampire society to visit. This mainly involved more meticulous cleaning than normal, but other "finishing touches" had been put on it as well that made Iris wonder why they couldn't appreciate the place she called home for the beauty that it was without the superfluous primping and polishing. Gage had been muttering to himself more than usual, going over a mental list of all the things that needed to be tended to and pulling her aside several times to remind her of how to mind her manners in the presence of the nobles. She had planned on showing the proper respect to begin with but some of the things he told her to pay mind to seemed so unnecessary that part of her wished to just bar herself in her room and wait out the duration of their visit.

Yet here she was, standing next to Gage as they waited patiently to receive the King and Queen and their entourage, although he'd already told her that personal introductions would be unlikely. Her hair was clean and free of tangles for once, and she wore one of her best dresses, but she despite her colorful wardrobe she still paled in comparison to the clothes the English were wearing. She'd taken to wearing a leather glove on her left hand since the incident, stuffing the fourth finger with bits of fabric to hide her injury, and she now found herself fidgeting as she waited for the time to pass. One of the men caught her gaze and waved, although she didn't return the gesture, unsure as to why one of them would want her attention.

Finally, he made his way across the room and introduced himself, surprising her thoroughly by already knowing her name. He seemed charming enough, but she couldn't seem to manage a genuine smile to give him in return. "Pleasure to meet you, Rylan. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid the youngest kid in town is only a few seasons younger than I am. But if you'd still like me to show you around, I suppose there is some time before I have to tend to my duties at the bar." She gestured for him to follow her as she fetched her patchwork coat and led him outside to the street bathed in moonlight.

[irisbeckett]

Bottoms Up / Micah & Iris / Flashback

[bloodhawkmicah]

Micah very quickly realized he’d gotten more when he bargained for when he selected this woman to buy a drink for. The boy was only used to wooing innocent, quite females or older women who were desperate for a piece of his charming smile. Rarely did he go after someone with much of a personality, finding that he had to put up more of a fight this way. It was obvious that Iris had quite the personality, though, and Micah wondered how quickly she would one- up him. Once she began speaking, he knew that time would come much sooner than he had anticipated. Yet there was something intriguing about her, even though he had never been too romantically interested. He could see her being someone he could spend a long time with, talking about some things that really mattered and some that were trivial, both with the same weight to their words. She seemed like the kind of friend that would act as both your mother, your least favorite younger sibling and your teenaged crush, all at once. There was something incredibly magnetic about her energy. 

He did a quick double take with just his eyes when she nodded towards the coin purse, surprised she’d taken notice. Maybe there was more to this girl than Micah Dawson thought their was. “I tend to move around on my own, Miss. I wouldn’t take a lady to a tavern much anyway. If there was someone on my arm we’d be strolling along somewhere much quieter and more secluded. But thank you. ” Micah took a light sip of his drink. He’d never had a particularly high tolerance for alcohol, though he was very accustomed to drinking, so he was very happy when it didn’t taste as strong as he had worried it would be. And perfect, the ignorant boy thought, for the lady. 

But when Iris downed her glass in one take, his jaw couldn’t help but hang open. Micah knew this was a challenge, he could tell by the glint in her eye. And it was on. Blinking  few times he lifted his glass and tipped it back, draining the rest of the contents. It had a familiar burn as it ran down his throat, one Micah had never been to fond of. As soon as he’d swallowed it all, he coughed, leaning forward and wiping his mouth, signalling to the employee to bring them another round. “You’re quite the impressive specimen, i must say. What brings you here this evening?”

[irisbeckett]

She couldn't help but smirk when Micah explained away his elaborate coin purse, adding in that he wouldn't bring a lady to a tavern for a good time. "Well then, it's a good thing I'm not a lady, because a quiet stroll in the moonlight sounds downright dull." Her eyes glittered with mischief and sass as she watched him sip at his glass, sampling the ale that was rather weak compared to many she'd tasted in the past. Iris nearly laughed out loud when she could swear she saw him swallow a great lump in his throat before meeting her unspoken challenge and finishing the contents of his mug in one long gulp. However, her grin was one of approval for his efforts as she waved the barmaid over for another round for each of them.

"Impressive specimen?" She chuckled as she took another gulp from her new cup. "That's a pretty fancy way of saying that I'm a mighty fine woman. And I'm pretty sure I already said that I'm just here for some fun. Good food and good company are sometimes hard to come by, so don't let the ale go to your head already. The night is still very young."

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud outburst at the other end of the tavern, quickly followed by shouts and the sound of tables overturning and cracking under the weight of bodies being flung upon them. There was a strict rule of no fighting in Thirst, but it was an almost night occurrence in other bars throughout Athoria and she was no stranger to the sudden disturbance. Soon the fight rippled across the room to include most of the men as they joined in the fray by throwing fists and each other back and forth. Iris grabbed her drink and stood up just in time to watch a burly patron send another man flipping over her table. "Well, sir Dawson," she shouted over the ruckus, "you said you could handle them. Looks like now is your chance to prove it!" She said as she backed up to the wall and took another slow pull from her glass.

[bloodhawkbrock]

All Crimes Go Punished || Iris / Brock || FoL SWP

[bloodhawkbrock]

Brock released his hold with practiced ease, feeling the muscles tense in her arm. Though he hadn’t expected such a skilled shot to his nose, he remained quite still after she scrambled away. Eyes narrowed dangerously aware of where she was, his hunter instincts calculating how fast he could reach her. Guessing which direction she would bolt for, or weapons to place in her tiny, strong fists. The jailer wiped the blood from his nose on a black gloved hand, walking instead to the door where he rapped on it with his knuckle, eyes unmoving from her presence.

"Do bring me the bag resting just inside the door to my room. Miss Becket here might require something more intricate in design. I need my notes," he offered not a hint to his thoughts, no matter a happy sedation of excitement brewed over thinking about dismantling her joints.

"And bring another prisoner in a few, have them placed by the table for hand removal. I won’t be with her long in here," he added when the guard returned, shutting the door with his leather bag to place it on the table to slip out a leather bound notebook, flipping to the correct page on his anatomy notes on the bones of fingers. 

"Miss Beckett, you see, it matters not how twisted one is when you my dear are here to be punished. Do you not live under the rule of King Athor? Do you not prosper on his lands? Then you are bound to abide by his laws so long as your feet bare contact to his soil," Brock continued to hold her in his sights, uncaring where or what she wanted to get into as his worry over her ever escaping or overpowering him completely was absolutely zero. His fingers did curl around his leather whip, snapping it to the ground with such velocity the crack rang to echo in multiple sounds in the hallowed stone space. 

"I am paid to make sure you remember your respect. I care not for what you think of me, only that you learn. Stealing isn’t just a broken law, but a sin. Are you aware the church could do more to you then I?" he set the journal down on the page he wanted, walking now like a tiger on the prowl around the table, his hand on his sword while the whip trailed on his side ready to launch in attack. "Where will you go from here? Go on then? Talk your way out, I am a man of many words. Speak the right ones and maybe I can be convinced of letting you actually walk out all three doors to your freedom. Go on Miss Beckett!"

He prodded, poked his prey to get a rise, loving the flush to her skin, and heaving breaths from her fright and bursts of adrenaline that was fleeting in design. Always ending in such a dramatic, disappointing crash once it was all used up. He snapped the whip at her body, face hard and clear of emotion no matter the sounds of the whip echoing in the space from three more strikes to make her scream or attempt to not be hit. “Convince me not to hang you by your thumbs! To expose your body to every prisoner who enters my torture chamber for the entirely of the night! Go on Miss Beckett…find use for your silver tongue, and find a way out of this mess you so cleverly found your way into.”

[irisbeckett]

Even as she scrambled away from him, she could scarcely believe she'd evaded his grasp for even a moment. There was nowhere to go, but she pressed herself against the wall furthest from him, eyes wide as she watched him recover easily from her hit, not so much as losing a single breath from her strike to his ribcage. Blood stained his upper lip as it leaked from his nose, but he seemed to barely notice aside from wiping it away as he called for a bag and another prisoner to be prepared. Iris could suddenly feel every pounding beat of her pulse in her palms when he said the next man would lose his hand. Her grip tightened even more on the chains in her hands, too nervous to pick up any of the other instruments now strewn about the room.

She kept silent as he began admonishing her once more, not bothering to answer the questions he asked of her. She knew nothing she could say would change his mind, already seeing the glint of gleeful malice in his eyes as he stared her down. He would not get the satisfaction of hearing her beg for mercy or try to wile her way out of this only to have him to do as he wished in the end. However, she still could not keep herself from jumping when he cracked the whip, so sharp and quick was his movement that it made her heart pound harder each time.

Her eyes stayed fixed on him, nearly choking on the lump rising in her throat as he advanced on her. The girl moved as he did, circling the room as she did her best to keep the maximum distance between them, noticing how he kept his hand at his sword while the other dragged the whip menacingly. She felt the door at her back and had he not been continuing towards her, she might have tried in vain to open it, hoping that by some power it would magically unlock at her touch. But she stepped past it instead, more concerned with keeping him away as he made his threats, leaving her to wonder which ones he intended to make good on.

Finally, he closed the distance as her focus on him led her to catch her skirt on a chair riddled with large spikes, his whip cracking so close she could feel the sting without it having touched her. Another small whimper escaped her as she wrenched away from the garish contraption, leaving her skirt in shreds as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room. The force of freeing herself sent her sprawling to the floor and she looked up at him as he goaded her yet again, daring her to convince him not to punish her for her crimes. She could think of only one thing to say to him.

A scratchy sound filled her throat just before she spit directly into his face, tears staining her look of defiance as she trembled before him.

[takeshi-bin]

Just Come Along Lass || Takeshi // Iris || FB2

[takeshi-bin]

"Aye! Aye!" He cheered with exaggerated clapping at the excitement to it all. Samir fluttered and dove right into the hot spring, floating like a piece of driftwood that had the captain shaking his head at the little creature. He grinned wickedly to Iris who could find humor in most and many situations, glad she had such a nack for being a good sport in all his messy muses. "Aye Iris, that it be, though to where?! Even aye don’t be knowing, that is te fun in treasure huntin’!" 

His gripped his wand, hitting random rocks to breath more light into all of them until all the ceiling was flickering like hundreds of fireflies, he was cheerful suddenly in his drunken state, steps dancing along while he walked over to the map to tweek a line that was bothering him from a pile of paints on the stone floor. The pirate took a deep swig of rum from his flask, offering it to Iris if she wanted before he settled to drag a small chest over to the spring edge. 

With a splash, he jumped in. The water warm and pleasant, and waved dramatically for her to come on over and lift the chest filled with jewels of all kinds, some in settings, and others in strings of pearls. Most raw and uncut, buried under actual gold coins that he found overseas and kept in case of travels. He floated on his back, manipulating the water to bubble under his back while he nodded to his private stash of booty.

"Go on! Ye ever open a pirates chest before? Well do it! Then join me with that small pouch of beads inside while we attempt to shoot them against that bullseye…"

[irisbeckett]

She didn't have the faintest idea as to where the map could possibly lead, but she studied a few moments more, thinking that she might recognize one or two of the crude drawings as something familiar. However, her attention was soon pulled from the wall to the ceiling as Tak proceeded to illuminate the cave ceiling with magic that resembled hundreds of little fireflies on a summer night. It was absolutely breathtaking and she couldn't help but stare up and spread her arms to twirl under their light.

Iris stopped as the pirate offered her a flask of something from his belt. She gave it a sniff and was pleased to find some good quality rum inside. Two swigs were enough for now before she passed it back to him, licking her lips to catch the small drops threatening to escape her tongue. The girl jumped back as he dove in to the hot spring, nearly splashing her and soaking her yet again. Her eyes sparkled with greedy lust and mischief as he called her over, beckoning her to open the treasure chest he so conveniently had hidden away here. She could only imagine what was inside, although she was slightly wary of yet another prank waiting to make a mess out of her once again. Still, her nearly feline curiosity got the better of her and she sat on the edge of the pool with the chest in her lap as she slowly opened the lid.

The jewels covering the top were beautiful, gleaming and throwing color around the cavern as the magical light hit them from above. It gave the cave the appearance and ambiance of a giant geode with its walls covered in glimmering crystals and diamonds. "Where did you get all this?" she asked in awe as her fingers ran over the raw, uncut surfaces of the gems, itching to sneak a few into her pockets. She glanced over at Tak as he floated on the water and decided against it, keeping to her personal moral code of not stealing from friends... except in fun, and then it was just borrowing.

Rather than soak all of her clothes again, she set the chest on the edge of the pool and shimmied out of her corset and skirt, leaving her in her chemise and undergarments before she flopped into the water. She surfaced and pushed her hair out of her face, grabbing the bag of beads from the chest and wading over to where he floated. The water reached her chest and was warm without being uncomfortable. It was a good thing she wasn't any taller as she'd neglected to consider how sheer her beige linen chemise would become once soaked. "So do you have a slingshot or are you just going to throw these at the wall?"

[collettemarkham-blog]

Collette & Iris || Desideration || FB: 6 Years

[collettemarkham-blog]

"Mm, you’re right. It’s important to know who and what crosses the threshold of the tavern. But most importantly, you must learn the motives of those around you. That is the only way you’ll succeed in this pub, working besides vampires, feeding the vampires, serving the vampires. Don’t take it the wrong way, of course. You must only learn a way to maintain your very alive status,”

Collette did not care if she stood or sit, but it was disrespectful not to do as she was asked. Granted, Collette’s servants were mostly glamoured to do as they were told and sprinkling this young girl with such abilities did not seem like the best idea. Not yet, at least. Collette assumed many things about Iris from their first encounter, deciding that first impressions with the barmaid would be quite accurate. The rudeness of addressing royalty, no matter your own specie, would have to be taught to the girl. Perhaps Gage would be up for the task.

If Iris was still alive upon the arrival of The Striga King and his son, her manners would have to be addressed regardless.

Serving Michael was more of an honor to do as one was told, anyway.

"I only mean that your elated spunk will get you far in this community, but I’d like to tell you what it is that I know about you…something that they have yet to discuss with you. Maybe it is because of your age, or maybe they were waiting until every drop of your humanity was sucked away by these wayward children. But if you are to work here, live here, and turn your life upside down just for their sake, then there is something you must know. Something I can smell about you, something that is unavoidable,”

[irisbeckett]

"Well, I know most everyone in town, and they know me. It's one of the reasons I wanted to stay when Mama and Papa went to England." She shifted slightly as she stood before Collette, feeling as if she needed to explain herself for some unknown reason. "I didn't always know they were vampires. It was odd when I found out because I was surprised, but then again, I wasn't." Her cheeks flushed slightly, finding that the longer she was in the queen's presence, the more and less comfortable felt, all at once. "I've always had this sense when someone is... different, but I never knew what it meant until Gage showed me." She still remembered that night as if it had happened only moments ago, when it had actually been a few months since her realization that she was living among legends.

Iris was surprised and somewhat proud of herself as the woman said her spunk would get her far, as most people frowned upon such strong will in a woman, much less a young one, and her so-called "spunk" usually got her into trouble more often than not. However, that momentary swell of pride quickly faded as Collette hinted at knowing something about her that she herself didn't know and had yet to be told. The very idea of having her humanity drained away didn't exactly put her at ease, either, and she tensed defensively.

"What are you talking about? How could you know anything about me? We've never even met before tonight." She was about to add something about having had a bath just a week ago, but she imagined that mattered little to royalty. Instead she waited, holding both her breath and her tongue.

[elliscallaghan]

Good Service is Hard to Find [Ellis + Iris | FB-3 ]

[elliscallaghan]

Dark eyes narrowed only for a moment at the realization that he would be paying quite a bit of money for the rest of the evening spent drinking, though it wasn’t really like he didn’t have any to spare. At least he was drinking in decent company instead of alone … although, he’d still eventually have to walk home. The mead was certainly nice, smooth as it should be with honey, somewhat nostalgic, but obviously strong. As if the blood that ran under his pale, freckled skin wasn’t fiery enough, this stuff was sweet, liquid heat. He offered a lopsided smirk at her mocking his accent, pouring the both of them a second glass,

“Nah, I’m sorry, but I don’ talk ‘bout my customers … No offense to yerself, o’course. Though, I’ll say he’s no’ someone I can meet durin’ the day, if ye know what I mean. Which … ye do. Workin’ here. An’ all.” The darkling laughed, shrugging his narrow shoulders, and slid the wrapped package in Iris’ direction. He knew what Thirst was. He knew enough vampires, calling a few friends, “It’s a rapier, no’ weighted for a human, jus’ to warn ye. I’m a blacksmith, an’ makin’ weapons ‘specially for their wielders is what I do best. I wasn’t here for a fight; all the sparrin’ I do is in my shop in Leeds.”

She was welcome to open it, the blade surprisingly heavy, weighted for the supernatural strength of a vampire and not a mere human. It was slim, and the dark leather of the sheath matched the wrapping of the hilt. The basket was intricately designed, with a matching pommel. It was both elegant and practical, obviously meant to see combat but still look impressive. The creature who’d wanted it surely was not someone lacking for coin, though if they were indeed a vampire, they most likely had had plenty of time to amass it. Wherever they were, they were missing out.

“Sometimes, shyte happens. Hopefully, they’re no’ dead, well really dead, an’ get back in touch.” Ellis sniffed dismissively, always annoyed by wasting his time crafting something so carefully only for it not to see use. He didn’t make wall decorations, after all. Pausing to empty his second drink with a sigh this time, aware of what to expect, he raised the bottle with the arch of a slim eyebrow in case the young woman was waiting for more, “No’ to say I haven’t started a barfight ‘r two in my time, but I wasn’t plannin’ on it here.”

[irisbeckett]

She smiled as he spoke, truly enjoying his company and the brief reprieve from her nightly duties in the tavern. The atmosphere was light and content, not nearly as dark and foreboding as one would expect a building full of the undead to be... or maybe that was just how she saw it. Either way, they were not the focus of her attention at the moment and she sipped at her second glass of mead, savoring it a bit more than the first. "None taken, but if you were planning on meeting your customer here, it's not as if I wouldn't have seen him anyway, so why the big secret? All I was going to do was let him know he missed you when he comes through next time."

Iris took up the blade when it was offered, although she didn't completely remove it from its wrapping, pulling the parchment back just enough to see the hilt and a few inches of the sheath. He wasn't lying about the weight, as it was deceptively heavy in her small hands. "I've been to Leeds a few times. Charming little city. Full of mischief." Her smirk grew slightly as she kept her eyes on the sword, admiring the simple, yet quality, craftsmanship. "I probably would have met you sooner except that I have little need for a blacksmith. Did you know the owner's son was one?" She slid the rapier back into its packaging and offered it back to its maker. "They say he used to have a forge in Monir before the war, but there's not much left of it now." Iris finished her drink and held her empty glass out as the man waited with a cocked eyebrow to refill it for her. Already she could feel the effects of the sweet liquor bringing the flush of color to her cheeks and the slight tingle and heat to her fingertips. She looked over at Ellis to see how he was faring with the strong drink.

"So if you don't mind me asking," she began as she leaned in slightly, resting her elbows on the table, "what exactly are you? You know about the who, or what, comes here to drink, but you don't seem like one of them. But I know you're not human." She could still feel the telltale tingles running down her spine that started long before they started drinking or the tavern began filling with her usual customers. Iris didn't know how or why she had them, but she'd learned to trust them as they'd never failed her before.

[bloodhawkbrock]

All Crimes Go Punished || Iris / Brock || FoL SWP

[bloodhawkbrock]

Brock gripped under her chin with a gloved hand, fingers denting the flesh along bone as if he intended to fracture it with his bare hands. He held her arrogant gaze with squinted pale hues. How it stirred him in dangerous ways seeing her continued stand to justify her behavior, combing through years of memories of watching such pathetic swine screech on their way to slaughter. No that wasn’t really the necessary punishment for a simple, petty thief, and it was almost worst that she hadn’t caused him more trouble so it could warrant something lasting more weeks than one night of wasted time. 

He released his hold, gaze undefined and near unreadable. Coiled rope dropped to the floor, stepping back only to loop and tie the intricate knot associated with a visual noose she would obviously make out. The rope wasn’t even for her, a mere scare tactic to keep her on her toes, and unsure what tool or punishment was to befall her body. Brock already knew what she would receive and though he was forced to deal with the more basic of prisoners tonight, he would let each one feel the full wrath of justice in reminder of what awaited them if caught again. 

"Deserved? Hmm…" he humored her words, toyed with them like sampling a fine wine to roll over his tongue. "So if he so deserved your lifting of his property, then you wouldn’t care if I take something of yours? Since we are on such topics of course." 

His words snake like in design, purposefully stepping behind her to shove her forward towards a large desk littered in various weapons for limb removal, his fingers tangled to tighten around her bicep to lead her. Tugging her back against his front while he paused their steps by a horrid, nasty instrument. Hardly known for the specialty next to all the others. At least to her he assumed such things.

"Well go on," he chided like she was a little child who needed to select a dress for a ball. "Pick one, and Ill let you know what you decided you deserved.”

[irisbeckett]

His hand shot out to grip her chin like a vice, forcing her to meet his stare that was something beyond menacing. A small whimper escaped her from the pain, caught off guard by such strength for a man of his age. Thankfully, he released her, but she still couldn't shake the chills that his stare had given her. She tried to discreetly massage her jaw as he began to loop and coil a rope, fashioning a noose with ease and dangling it in front of her as a cat would with a cornered mouse. 

Her heart began to pound harder as he spoke, turning her words against her as he threatened to take something of hers. A lump formed in her throat as her hands instinctively formed into fists. All of her "valuables" had been taken upon admittance to the holding area, even her sewing needle and thread. The looks of bewilderment on the guards' faces had been priceless as they searched her many pockets, discovering one item after another until they piled in a heap on the table, surely never to be seen again. Yet, she could not recall their hilarious expressions as she watched Brock, knowing there was only one thing left on her person of any "value" that he could take. All she could hear was the thunderous pounding of her own pulse in her ears as he approached. Her fingers wound around the chain between her wrists, tensing as she tried to prepare to defend herself.

Iris shuffled forward as he shoved her, feeling his calloused hands dig into her arm as he kept her close to his body, which was more revolting than the stench rising from the cells. He bent her face over a table of nasty-looking implements that she'd only heard of and seen the end results of their purpose. With all manners of jagged points and bits of flesh and blood still caked to them, she could stand to play his little game of cat-and-mouse no longer. She didn't have to see his face to know the sneer that loomed over her shoulder, blowing his vile breath into her ear.

With a quick jerk of her arm, she wrenched free of his grip and planted a sharp elbow just below his ribs, hoping to wind him. Her heel came down sharply on his instep, leaving grime on his polished boots before twisting to send her elbow into his nose. It was a technique she'd used to warn off handsy men who wouldn't take "no" for an answer in the past, but even as she squirmed out of his reach, there was nowhere to go. She put the table between them once more as she slipped her wrists from the cuffs and held the chain like a makeshift flail in front of her. Her breath was ragged and her voice was shaky from the fear and adrenaline coursing through her, but she held her ground nonetheless.

No daughter of Molly Beckett was going to go down without a fight.

"Fuck you... you twisted bastard."

[bloodhawkbrock]

All Crimes Go Punished || Iris / Brock || FoL SWP

[bloodhawkbrock]

Brock had an enormous amount of work on his plate around the holidays. Criminals took advantage of the flow of people spending good coin in cheer for their families, and the older man directly had to deal with said people because they seemed to lack some kind of moral compass. The man was cleaning a few instruments on a massive spread of tools along a wooden table, the guards shoving the woman in with a groan of locks behind her. The sound was pleasant on his ears, familiar in what would happen tonight twelve times over. 

"Miss Beckett, it seems forever ago I gave you the smallest show of kindness did I not?" he spoke turning around with a slide of hard leather soles to face the woman like she was nothing more than a child. Aged face not just hard in lines but completely unamused by her behavior. "Do you remember that charity my dear? Here let me bring it all back." 

With a lift of a platter and a tossed slide of the plate across the floor. It bit at her toes with a spatter of castle food that seemed to give the jailer a small satisfaction in effect. It was in fact his dinner though the man had no desires to consume anything until he was in Brailston at the local tavern to help disillusion the annoying human pests that slithered and scurried their way into his clutches. The food’s rich scent did little to quell the lingering stench that Brock couldn’t identify with anymore. 

"I was polite in warning you that I was well aware of your deeds against the laws of our society, but did I make an attempt to arrest you. No. I broke bread with you, and enjoyed one of the castles finest wines. So tell me then Miss Beckett. What is it that was so desperate in your desires to cause such a racket on my streets?" Every word drew him closer, an opened whip in one hand, closing around a tightened fist of leather to calloused palms, and a rope in another. He was in his element here, knowing every escape route, which tools and weapons they at times lunged for in futile attempt no matter the shackles. He’s see it all in this room, and it was part of the process to see just what they attempted against the lion in his den. 

"Look at me—" he ordered darkly a step away, "You show me respect in here, and answer my question— now."

[irisbeckett]

Having what most would call an adventurous and daring spirit, there was little that truly frightened Iris, despite all the horrors of legend that she knew to be true. She made a home in it, for goodness' sake, but there was something in this man's voice that made it difficult to look him in the eye as he turned to face her. Instead, her gaze was drawn to his highly polished boots as they scraped across the stone floor. Even in the dim light, they still managed to shine, somehow resisting the muck and mire in which he was entrenched.

His words did not fall on deaf ears as she lowered her eyes, but despite being asked if she remembered, which she did as clear as day, she remained silent, knowing from his tone that he was speaking in rhetoric. The young woman flinched as the silver platter clattered to the floor, but otherwise remained motionless, now looking at the perfectly seasoned chicken breast and hearty vegetables now perfectly smeared and spattered at her feet. 

It was painfully obvious that he did, in fact, remember her, and that that fact would be doing her no favors now.

She stood silent as he berated her, feeling the shackles around her wrists grow heavier as she considered slipping them over her hands, but to what end? The door was locked behind her and there was nowhere to go. It sent her heart to pounding as he asked for the reason for her disturbance in his streets, as if he were the king instead of the jailer. In this moment, he might as well be, for he was judge, jury, and executioner in his little domain. 

"Look at me—" 

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, her face now pink and blotchy from the rush of blood and adrenaline as she faced her accuser. The sick feeling in her stomach was replaced with a lead weight as her chest heaved with every breath.

"You show me respect in here, and answer my question— now."

Iris narrowed her eyes at him, glad that her voice came out strong as she obeyed. "I did no less to that pompous stuffed-shirt than he deserved... sir."

[irisbeckett]

Catch a Falling Star and Put It in Your Pocket // Iris & Mags // FB 5 yrs // Closed

[magdalena-ashwood]

Maggie ate and was grateful for the food and the clothing. Her shoulder blades were raw and still bleeding somewhat but that would be stopped by morning. She ate nearly the whole bowl of stew before she couldn’t fit anything else in her stomach. She happily followed Iris up the stairs, glad that the girl had found her and as she lay on the straw mat next to Iris with her back to the girl she also looked to the stars. Tears streamed down her face as she lay there in silence. It was better that Iris not see her like this. She kept silent as she looked to the heavens and prayed that her fall was not in vein. That she had chosen to do the right thing despite the fact that she knew she had gone against her wishes. She prayed that she would find here what she was looking for and be able to repent and have forgiveness in her fathers eyes so that maybe one day she could return home to him. In truth she was frightened, she had seen how mortals could be, some were cruel and seemingly heartless while others were kind and tender, full of heart and soul and she was happy that Iris had found her. She believed that despite her going against her fathers wishes, Iris had been sent by him to help her. Though he was angry with her, Iris was his way of watching over her and she took comfort in that.

She heard Iris’ words about her mother and smiled. “Your mother is a smart lady then, she knows that every day is more bright then the last.” Maggie said with a smile. She rolled over to face Iris, the tear stains still evident on her face. “Iris, thank you, thank you for being so kind and going out of your way for me. I know that you didn’t have to but you did, and I really appreciate it. If ever I can repay you in any way please don’t hesitate to ask for anything. I feel that mere words will not properly show you how grateful I truly am.” She said giving the girl a smile before she settled and closed her eyes for sleep.

[bloodhawkbrock]

All Crimes Go Punished || Iris / Brock || FoL SWP

A quill scratched over yellowed parchment of a large leader bound tome, never ending script documented all the arrivals of the their comings for the last week. It was menial work usually reserved for the other jailers under his employ but Brock had wanted to take over to release his mind from other demanding Bloodhawk business. 

"Thieves, that is the theme it seems today—" he released a sigh of annoyance, glaring over to the collection of bodies in his main holding cell. Various groupings of people had already collected into their respectful personalities by way of either knowing one another in a small gathering to hover near one another, or better scared and nervous placing themselves far away from those more menacing humans that looked to might hurt them further. It was always interesting to watch the dynamic of a group of criminals required to be in the same cage for a certain length of time. The man witnessing some of the most brutal and at times, disturbing crimes happen within these very walls. 

He dropped the quill to scrape his chair back and walk over with a rustled clanking of keys to open the cage, waving for the guards to accompany him while most of the humans scurried back. A list of names was issued out by the head guard for the jails to demand them to leave the cage and follow the guards into the main cells past a large door. Brock paid little mind at this point, walking after leaving the guards to the shuffling of certain prisoners to open the massive door with his keys leading into the hallway of cells. 

It was this point that they usually had trouble arise. As it was when their punishment usually settled on their minds. Those too weak of heart, and sensitive to their stomach would gag from the stench wafting into the relatively comfortable holding room. The hallway of doors eerie, and devastatingly quiet like those of ghosts lived behind the many wooden, windowless doors. His gaze fell on the passing collection of prisoners the guards knowing which cells to put them in and fell on a few faces he recognized with a lack of care to such things. 

"Iris Beckett will be first," he said so she heard it in passing, and turned to walk down to the interrogation room.

[irisbeckett]

A Continuation of No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Despite her best efforts to wriggle away from Ian or convince him to let her go, she still found herself standing among the huddle of prisoners awaiting their fate. She stood apart from most of them, having had to fend off a particularly handsy bloke already by crushing and twisting his most tender and favorite part of him. As she glanced around, she wondered how many of them actually deserved to be here. She knew she wasn’t innocent, having picked the pockets of several, possibly a hundred over the years, but it angered her that she’d been caught by a man who had deserved much more than she would have done.

As they stood waiting, it was hard not to compare herself to them. Most of them seemed to be simple folk, common workers with a few beggars mixed in. She was far from the dirtiest or raggedly dressed one, but in the dim, dingy cage, they all looked the same, including her.

Her study of the others was broken as the guards returned and began placing most of them into individual cells. She was almost relieved just to not have to worry about being harassed by the others until she stepped into the hallway. Iris had developed a strong stomach for liquor, but the overwhelming stench that filled her nose instantly made her wretch, only adding to the putrid smell. She was shoved along as she continued to fight the need to gag until she was pushed into a cell at the end of the row. With no window leading to the outside and fresh air, she was completely engulfed in the horrible smells. She stood in the middle of her cell, shackles still dangling from her wrists, doing her best not to touch any surface that would make the stench linger on her.

Just as she heard the last door being clanged shut, the sharp sound of boot heels approached and breezed past. A rather familiar voice said her name and she looked up just in time to glimpse the jailer passing her door. She stepped forward just enough to see him disappear into another room and her mind began to race. As the guard returned to her door, she wondered if Brock remembered her at all, that he had shared his meal with her? Did he recognize her name? With every forced step toward the door at the end of the corridor, she hoped against hope that this was all just a misunderstanding and he’d let her go free, or that it was just a bad dream and she could open her eyes and be back in her bed at Thirst. She closed her eyes as the door swung open, not having read the sign that hung over it before being pushed through and hearing the heavy lock click behind her.

With the aroma of waste amd decay in her nostrils and the taste of bile still fresh on her tongue, she slowly opened her eyes to realize this was no dream. It was a living nightmare. Her gaze flicked to the man across the room who had his back to her. She tried to summon her voice to be as strong as possible, but her few words were as soft as a mouse. “Hello again, Sir Brock.”

[elliscallaghan]

Good Service is Hard to Find [Ellis + Iris | FB-3 ]

[elliscallaghan]

He held dirty, calloused hands up in self-defense at her implications, laughing, though it wasn’t enough to make him blush. He’d lived in the city of sin for far too long, “I know it’s no’ Leeds. I can go home an’ get what I want there, prob’ly jus’ a wee bit safer than here—present livin’ company excluded. I jus’ meant … yer workin’. I don’ want to take yer time without makin’ it worthwhile, an’ I don’ want to get ye in trouble with yer management for stealin’ ye away.”

Ellis sighed and settled into his seat with a sagging of his narrow shoulders, watching the young woman slip away to fetch their drink. Dark eyes strayed back to the package on his table, the well-balanced rapier, weighted for a creature far superior in strength than even himself. What had happened to the vampire, he wondered? Did he even want to know? Unlucky bastard. Now he had a waste of a weapon he’d either melt back down or pass onto Seryth. Some demon may like it. Who knew? He hated wasting his time, especially when it was spent crafting something so tailored to an individual. It made the fire in his veins seethe a bit, skin already always too hot.

Then she was back again, setting a bottle of something between them, something strong enough that he blinked at the glass set before him, not intimidated so much as surprised. Smirking at her in obvious, almost teasing doubt, the darkling raised his glass to hers with a chuckle, holding back any comments that she seemed far too young to be drinking such stuff. But she worked in a bar that catered to the undead, so who was he to judge? Nobody.

“’M Ellis, an’ we can drink to no’ wastin’ anymore fuckin’ time.” The blacksmith laughed then, rolling his dark eyes, “Cheers, Iris.”

With that, he lifted the glass to his still-smiling lips and set to downing its contents in one gulp. Barely keeping himself from slamming the empty thing on the table, he rumbled a coughing, gagging sort of laugh and shook his auburn-haired head. Whatever that stuff was was strong, fuel for the fires that already burned in the charcoal cavity of his chest. Dry kindling instead of alcohol that burned its way through his Irish heritage, hellish birthright, and half a century of the lifestyle of his choosing in Leeds.

“Damn, woman,” Ellis hissed around a lopsided grin, fingers already reaching again for the bottle, “What is this shyte?”

[irisbeckett]

She couldn’t have agreed more with the man’s toast and clinked her glass against his before downing her own shot. She’d tasted it only once before, and it was just as strong as she remembered, but it wasn’t harsh like so many of the other brews. It was tasted like molten honey gliding all the way down her throat to simmer in her stomach. Her eyes watered just a bit but she could still see clearly enough to smirk at Ellis’s reaction. “This ‘shyte’,” she said mocking his Irish brogue as she held her glass out for him to refill, “is honey mead. And not just any honey mead, but the best vintage money can buy.” She could already feel the alcohol spreading its warmth throughout her body, but even if they finished the bottle, neither would feel so much as lightheaded until they tried to stand or walk.

"So who were you planning to meet here, Ellis? If it’s someone I know, I’ll have to thank him for being an ass by not showing up." She gave the man a wink before knocking back her second drink, glad that it only got smoother with each one. She turned her attention to the package still sitting on the table beside them. It hadn’t left the man’s reach since he arrived well before dusk. Just from the size and shape of the wrapping, it wasn’t difficult to guess at what was inside. She was curious to see it, as she always was with things purposely hidden from sight, but knew better than to reach for it herself. "If that’s what I think it is, I hope you weren’t planning on using that in here. There’s no fighting here, whether or not you use sharp, pinty things,” she said, playfully mocking his accent once more.

[shilohgarrett-blog]

Wherever I May Roam || Shiloh // Iris

[shilohgarrett-blog]

"As a human? I didn’t care—" he answered honestly, "I was resigned with being a warrior, or eventually a knight for the King. I wouldn’t have ever been able to have a family of my own. To fall in love? It was a distraction I couldn’t afford. Its a regret of mine. One I wished I had given a shot for just so I know my line was still happily living in England. But the Garrett’s are destined to be Garou now and forever. Not that its a terrible fate."

Shiloh listened to Iris. The usual rhythm of her heart, how she diverted his attention with skills only she were capable of, and even more when she tried to hide when words upset her a little, but the softest sounds released naturally gave them away. He pressed the flats of his palms to her knees, rolling his fingers upward in preparation to tickle her when she moved the damp towel from his face, catching the softest release of breath near his face before she pinched his cheeks. His fingers retailed instantly, squirming up her thighs to pin her more to the bed. 

"Yes—" he answered immediately, and moved off her to lay his back against his pillow. A smirk played along the curve of his lips, coyly driven in hopes to hide the deep honestly to that answer. "You’d be even more pretty all flushed and squirming in pleasure. Not that it’s something I think about of course. I just think you would probably get addicted to it like your drinking, the feeling that comes out of it is along the same lines. Your head gets put into this high, and your body responses in ways that feel out of your control. It’s beautiful to watch someone fall apart, to feel it effect your body too. So of course I’d wish you to experience it, even if I sort of want to tear the throat out of the person you might decide to try it with.”

He was crossing that line again, but he stayed there feeling that honestly between them was always better in the long run. That and he wanted to tear his own throat out for feeling such a strong desire to lay claim to Iris’ virginity. How it stirred a possessiveness in him that made him threaten to ruin everything they have over and over again. He was blessed she put up with him, allowed the beast to burden her with his needs in all layers, and fashions except that one. 

"You would probably change your hair color after that moment right?" he teased curling a finger around her colored strands, just touching her cheek to notice a new more freckles that hadn’t been there before. "You’re happy though, right Kitty? You would grab me if you ever felt you needed someone? Needed a break?" He asked brushing his fingers along scars that he knew exactly were from, though didn’t burden her with him touching them long before he sat forward to lay his head right into her lap, arms wrapped tight around her thighs. 

[irisbeckett]

She squealed and squirmed under his ticklish attack, powerless to stop him even if she’d known it was coming. Thankfully, he released her as soon as he pinned her, so she could prop herself up on his pillows and roll her eyes at him properly. “Yes, I can tell by the way you keep blushing that you haven’t given any thought to it at all.” She could feel the warmth in her own cheeks as she spoke and knew she was probably just as red as he was.

She scoffed lightly when he commented on her drinking habits. “Ale and wine and all that is good and all, but that’s just something I do for fun. I just happen to be good at it. It doesn’t make me do things I wouldn’t do otherwise, unlike most people. I don’t feel different just because I’ve had a few.” His description of how lovemaking felt did sound awfully familiar, however. It was not liquor that had given her that sensation, but the Kiss. A vampire’s bite could be painful if it was intended to be, but being what she was, a blood doll, meant that most came to her without ill intent, which made the feeding process quite the opposite of what many feared it to be. While she never gave herself sexually to those who sank their fangs into her, what she had felt during those times was as near to what Shiloh was describing as she had ever experienced. She kept that to herself, knowing how much he despised what she was in that sense. A smile tugged at her lips just in time to hide the serious thoughts lingering just behind her eyes. “Thanks a lot. Now if I ever do find a man that I love, I’ll have to hide him just so you won’t rip him to shreds.”

His question about changing her hair made her smile more genuinely. “I don’t always have a reason for dyeing my hair. Sometimes I do, but not always.” Her hand instantly went to his head as he laid in her lap and curled himself around her leg. His hair was soft under her gentle strokes that lightly grazed her nails across his scalp. She could feel the small bit of raised flesh just behind his ear each time she moved her fingers. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

[collettemarkham-blog]

Collette & Iris || Desideration || FB: 6 Years

[collettemarkham-blog]

Collette stood at Michael’s bookshelf, pale fingers tracing against the spines of her favorites and she sighed something sad, and remembrance of the man that she loved. The study itself was a deathly reminder of what she had lost, but somehow the bustling of Night Haven and particularly that of Thirst gave her a comfort that she could not really explain. Even the sound of that girl moving about and grumbling under her breath out in the main area was enough to bring a soft and subtle smile against Collette’s lips. 

Constantly was she surrounded by company; her children, Xavior, and others that tended to her consistently by doing her bidding and making sure that Collette was satisfied in every aspect of her life. But there was something different about Thirst, always had been and always would be. This place was built with the foundation of a new life, a new beginning for Michael, and even though Collette had not been a part of that life she still felt that it was his strongest beacon, and she would do whatever it took to keep it that way.

At the sound of the girl coming back into the room, as told, Collette turned and folded her hands in front of her.

"Hello," she said in greeting. "Yes you are here, good for you. Come, let us properly talk. Sit down, won’t you?” Collette motioned at the chair by the fireplace, Michael’s chair, and she wondered if the girl would feel comfortable sitting in such an iconic piece of furniture. 

Collette took a seat in the opposite. “I heard you talking,” she said with a cross of her slender legs. “So, I assume you know who I am now. My name is Collette Markham and I am the Queen of Vampires in Athoria. You must not be worried about me, child. This place is as much mine as it is Michael’s and I have vowed to keep it safe while he journeys in England with his kin. I feel deeply responsible for my entire kingdom, including Night Haven, and thus I am here to make sure Gage does not burn this place to the ground amongst other things. You understand, don’t you? You seem like such a smart girl, after all,”

[irisbeckett]

She stepped into the room only as far as absolutely necessary. Her eyes widened a bit when she was offered Michael’s own chair, her heart beating faster to make the liquor she’d had in hopes of calming her nerves now only being pushed through her system faster. Fortunately, she maintained control of her voice so that she didn’t end up standing there twiddling her thumbs with a blank stare on her face. “I think I’ll stand, thank you.” In her mind, the less evidence of her intrusion on one of the only two forbidden rooms in the tavern, the better.

Iris listened as the woman introduced herself, reaffirming her right to do as she pleased where she pleased by claiming to be nothing less than vampiric royalty. Why she hadn’t stated that to begin with, the human girl couldn’t understand. Then again, Iris probably wouldn’t have believed her and might have made the situation even worse. She did smirk at the comment of Gage burning the place down, thinking that she wasn’t the only one there to ensure that didn’t happen. The small compliment might have been more welcome if it didn’t sound so condescending when coupled with that cold stare.

"Smart enough to know that you didn’t ask me to come back just to tell me who you are when Gage already did, even if he did leave the queen part out." She rolled her shoulders back as she steeled herself before Collette’s piercing gaze. Hopefully she would be dismissed to go curl up in her bed full of pillows, but she couldn’t bring herself to just turn and leave the vampire’s presence.

[takeshi-bin]

Just Come Along Lass || Takeshi // Iris || FB2

[takeshi-bin]

Takeshi was in a mischievous mood, one littered in trouble for people who came into contact with the sailor. Though Iris wasn’t one to not back her own silly games with ones that actually aimed to surprise the pirate but he was game to always challenge her if only for a good hearty laugh he felt he needed more than deserved. 

"Boo!" he jumped out like a child from behind a rock face, wiggling his fingers, and swirling his hands up enough to catch a wind in his grasp. Sending the small burst around her hair to blow it into a mess. He stood like a posed noble for a painting, feet apart slightly, with a lean to his hip like he was contemplating just what he was going to say next though already had an idea. 

"Iris me dear, ye ever be in tis cave before?" he inquired, shifting his coat, hat, and shirt off in three quick movement to deposit them near the cave entrance in a little alcove for protection. He swirling his wand, grinning so wildly that Iris might actually think the human would explode from excitement. "Come along lass!" he grinned wider? no definitely wilder. A bare arm throwing up to meet her shoulders, his own body still damp from his time in the water, though Tak didn’t even notice.

"Press ye hand here," he said pointing the rock with the tip of his wand, muttering a spell that would allow them to walk right through the hard surface that was nothing more than an illusion anyway. It would feel like a waterfall though no wetness would cling additionally to their skin, Tak walked through the wall, laughing manically as he tapped multiple rocks. 

“‘Yn dod i’r amlwg o’r lleuad,” he chuckled around his spell work, lighting all the stone with a faint moonlight while they rose like fireflies to illuminate the hot spring. “Whatcha think! Look at te walls lass—” he pointed to the far wall where a series of cave paintings were marked into the rock face. 

[irisbeckett]

She jumped when he appeared suddenly and swatted his arm for good measure, despite the smile on her face. “What part of ‘I’ve explored every nook and cranny of Night Haven’ didn’t you understand?” she asked as he stripped his duds with practiced ease. It seemed her answer to his question wasn’t really important as his arm wrapped around her shoulders and pushed her toward the solid wall of rock. “Are you mad?!” she shrieked as she put her hands out, anticipating the hard sensation of stone against her palms. Yet instead she felt it give way in a mushy sludge sort of way. When she finally opened her eyes to see that they were both still in one piece and standing in a strange part of the cave she’d never seen before, fascination took the place of annoyance towards the pirate.

"Oh my…" came her reply mumbled softly as she stepped forward in curiosity. The paintings on the rock wall were crude compared to what she had seen of Grigori’s works, but they were something to behold nonetheless. At first, it just seemed like a lot of random pictures placed every which way, but as she looked upon it as a whole, she glanced back at Takeshi with a small grin on her face. "Why, Captain… this wouldn’t happen to be a treasure map, would it?"