#collaborative rp

[lillianforest22]

Someone create a story with me where we traumatize charaters because it makes me feel better. I miss my old roleplay group

[marquis-teren-kiden]

Baron Ninro

TEREN’S STUDY

Despite the Priest's gaze having returned to it's native shade, the Ancient's whispering remain audible to his Husband and the Monk as they follow him into his Study. When he speaks, several vocal intonations - male and female - echo softly in the wake of his own muted baritone. "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you where you stand, Lord Ninro."

Lycan stands off to the side, in a beta posture that telegraphs nothing to either of the other men until he speaks. "Anne wouldn't--"

"Not. You."

Biting his tongue, the Guardian nods curtly, straightening his posture slightly as his hands are clasped in front of him.

Standing in front of the Marquis of Nishan, Baron Ja'nin Ninro's ebony eyes are fixed on the floor, his hands loose at his sides. Despite his humble pose, his voice retains its rich bass eloquence. "No."

"No?" Teren turns slowly to take in the other man's appearance as the Ancient's call for Ninro's soul.

'Puul (Puul'h.) Iwhuk'h (h')Orr'e!'

The violet scattering across the Priest's sapphire eyes is plenty of indication that the Ancient's influence is in play. Despite the indicator, the Baron remains concilliatory. "I acted dishonorably. If you wish to kill me for sleeping with Annest, I won't fight you, your Grace."

Lycan's eyes shift between the other two nobles, his posture shifting to a mildly defensive one as his arms fold over his chest and he shifts his weight in preperation to intercede if his Husband accepts the offer. "Tread lightly, Ja."

"Did you think proposing would erase your sin, Lord Ninro?" Teren asks, as the whispers continue to radiate around him. 'Hai, (Hai!) Ftaghu'h hai!'

Shaking his head slowly, Ja'nin lowers his head. "No. I proposed to Annest because my heart is beating in her chest. I laid her down with me because--" His lips thin into a single line; his head shifts in denial again.

Teren stalks forward, only to be intersected for the third time that day by his Husband. "Tell me. Tell me what made you feel fit to take my Daughter like a common whore!"

Baron Ninro's head snaps up, his ebony eyes burning with anger. "That is not what happened! That would never happen! I laid her down because I feared losing her! She asked to do something that... that would have taken her from me, and I--" His voice hitches, then falls once more to silence as his head shifts.

Both Teren and Lycan's heads snap up, their attentions shifting from one another to Ninro and back several times before their focuses set on the lower noble. "Explain."

"No."

Lycan's incredulity preceeds the Priest's. "What?"

"I will not--"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" In a moment, Lycan closes the distance between himself and his Mentor. "Understand something here: You fucked Anne. No Ring. No ceremony. He will fucking kill you if you don't explain what the fuck you were thinking. I can't stop him."

Looking up slowly, Ja'nin declines to answer for a third time as his black eyes meet the Guardian's almond gaze. "Then I will die."

It doesn’t take a genius to understand that the Monk would rather die than betray a third party to the situation. Lycan attempts to talk sense into the Monk while his Husband bypasses the other man's resolve; directing his thoughts to the other person with knowledge of the matter. *What precipitated your... Ja'nin's change in conduct toward you?*

THE SUNROOM BLANKET FORT 

Anne visibly winces, fingers pushing against her temples. *I did nothing, Father. We were talking about my misconduct with the Count and I was upset I had brought you dishonor and how I wish to make amends with the Count because I know the man is important to Ja'nin. He spoke of how we should wait and prove through my actions I wasn't disrespectful because to approach him now would only end with the man getting what he wanted... Neither of us wanted that. He was holding me and just it went from there. It was mutual!*

TEREN’S STUDY

As the Ancient's reach for his Daughter's chaotic thoughts, Teren closes his mind off from her. *Calm yourself.*

Turning back to his Husband and the Monk, Teren draws his first calm breath since Ja'nin had requested to marry Annest. "Count Ngu'nye." He whispers softly. "You remembered his requested concession in order to mend our bridge after Anne offended him...and her request to make peace with him would have entailed a requirement to end your Courtship." He speaks slowly, sussing out each of the follow-on events until he arrives at the compromised emotional state Ja'nin had almost certainly found himself in thereafter.

A rare display of internal vulnerability fleetingly passes over Ninro's eyes as he turns his dark gaze on the Priest. "You shouldn’t have involved her!"

"You should not leave me absent alternative options." Teren replies tersely as he crosses the room to his bar. Pouring himself a finger of brandy, he's calm enough to sip the contents, rather than drain the etched crystal tumbler in his left hand. "She has no ring."

"I commissioned it when we entered your lands. My people don't produce items which would do justice in the eyes of others to express my feeling for her."

The Priest's head hems briefly, then haws a bit before he returns his now sapphire eyes to the Baron. "How long since the--” The Priest pauses, clearing his throat. “Trespass?"

"Three days." Ninro murmurs softly, his lips quirking at the corners before he continues. "I felt the sparks inside her this morning."

The explanation puts Teren's teeth on edge, but he swallows the finely honed blade of his anger with more of the brandy. "How many?"

"There will be two."

"I should eviscerate you. No--" he shakes his head again. "--No, I should castrate you where you stand." Closing his eyes, Teren takes several slow, deep breaths; his chest tight with the fear radiating to him from Anne through their psionic connection. "But, I won't."

Ja'nin remains rigid, physically and mentally prepared for whatever sentence follows. It's the Guardian who sighs in relief.

"You are going to leave my home. My lands. You will not return--"

"No!" For the first time since his humble arrival to their home, Ja'nin Ninro's posture is assertive, combative. "No! I am here for Anne. For our chil--"

"SILENCE!" Black energies flare out, slamming the Monk to the ground and Lycan to a far wall. "Anne is my Daughter. Mine. You will leave. You will not return. That is not a request, Baron Ninro. You will wait for my Husband and I to meet with you in Silverlight to discuss if there will be a marriage contract. You will prepare a very generous bride price.” Low menace settles into the velvet baritone sustaining the Priest’s wrath. “If we accept your offer. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

It isn't fear that pins the Baron in place, anymore than it is the ebony tendrils. It's hope. Bowing his head low to the ground, in abject humility, Ja'nin's voice is a barely restrained whisper. "Yes, your grace."

"Lycan." Teren finishes his Brandy, moving quickly for the door before his temper gets the better of him for a third time.

"Yes, Lord Kiden." Despite their marriage, the Guardian's instinct remains submissive; a facet of their relationship which serves him well in their sexual affairs but arrives oddly to the Baron's ears.

"See to it that Baron Ninro is removed from our lands. Then... join me."

"Yes, Lord Kiden." The moment the Priest vacates the study, Lycan's releases a deep sigh of relief, reaching for Ninro as the ebony bindings fade away. "You couldn't have made that any more difficult?"

Finding his feet, Ja'nin glances at the Guardian with a half-hearted shrug. "I do love her. I will bring her all of the honor that remains."

Rolling his eyes, Lycan nods toward Pax, gesturing to her for a portal. "Silverlight." He explains to the Translocator before addressing the other nobleman. "You have to live long enough for the binding ceremony, remember?"

"Come soon?"

Lycan looks out the door of the Study, shaking his head slowly. "I know your people tend to be philosophers and agnostics, but, if you have anything to pray to? I'd pray we show up at all."

"Every day." The Monk replies, his breath a tremble when he asks, "May I say goodbye? Just... words?"

It's a gamble, but Lycan calls Anne to the Study telepathically. "No promises." *Anne. Come to the Study. Don't tell anyone.*

TEREN’S KITCHEN; (Drowning her fear and frustrations in cupcakes

*Okay...* Quickly, Annest finishes her current cupcake before vanishing from the kitchen.

TEREN’S STUDY

When she arrives at the Study, she finds Pax present, a shimmering amethyst portal open to Silverlight. In the middle of the room, Lycan stands beside Ja'nin, as she enters. The Incubus sighs, nodding for Ja'nin to proceed.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, Ja. I don't know how long this is going to take. I'd recommend you act quickly and remain patient. I'll do what I can from here."

Nodding at the Guardian, Ninro pulls Anne into his arms, kissing her temple as his left arm snakes upward to rest her skull in his palm, his right hand wrapped in a vice-like grip around her waist. "I have to go. I promise, I will come for you at the very first opportunity to do so with your Father's grace." Anne rises from the shadows outside the door of her Father’s study, quickly wiping frosting from her lips and chin. Trying to get it all removed before grasping the door knob and slipping in the crack she made, shutting it swiftly behind her. Staring in a measure of confusion and fear but that changes to relief at seeing the Baron at least physically safe.

"What is goi--..." She begins but is cut off, hugging onto Ja'nin eyes closing for the moment before giving a small nod. Eyes darting towards Lycan before back to the Baron and buries her face into his chest, breathing in deeply the man's sccent. "I'll hold you to your promise, Ja," She whispers before looking back up to him.

They hadn't said how they felt - hadn't needed to - since the first spark between them as they spoiled the food and water stores in retalliation for Lochlyn Kiden's murder. Not until three days before, and for the Monk, being forced to say aloud what he felt with such small words is a sin. Yet, it’s all he had to offer. "I love you. Remember. I love all of you." He whispers, one hand drawing back to protectively curve along her still taut belly as he bows his forehead to hers. "And the Twins."

Anne chokes on the words but finally whispers them, "I- I love you too, I'll never forget." Her left hand lowers to rest over his own, pressing her forehead to his, "I'll tell them." She takes a deep breath and leans up to whisper by his ears, "I still mean each word I said to you. Remember that." She sinks back onto her heels, smiling.

A rare shine settles over Lord Ninro's corneas as he nods, kissing her forehead and stepping away from her. Not trusting himself to speak again, he quietly moves through the Translocator's portal. The portal closes behind him, the Kal'Dorei turning to look at Anne with wide jade eyes as she motions over her toned stomach with a large bump, then points to the young noblemwoman with a questioning lilt of her left eyebrow.

Anne watches in silence, chewing on her lip anew before the Kal'Dorei's motions. Slowly she gives a faint nod, exhaling a breath she had been holding.

Pax rushes forward, wrapping Annest up in a tight hug, before disappearing with the young Mother to the mansion's kitchen to celebrate. 

Lycan turns to the door of the study with a long sigh, removing his coat. He throws it onto one of the leather sofas nearby on his way out of the room before exiting. Another might have to ask his Husband where he is expected to meet. All-too-familiar with the sadism conjured by his Master's Ancients, the Guardian silently braces himself for the violent session ahead of him, unbuttoning his shirt en route to their private suite. For once, he's grateful Adilynia won't be joining them.

[ @daughterofkiden, @marquis-lycan-kiden #Baron Ja’nin Ninro ]

[jacob-holt]

Reminiscing Brothers.

It was late. Well after the dying hours of the evening when people began to trickle out of the party and back to their homes. Jacob had found a servant to retrieve Cedrick to have him meet him by their parent’s grave. And there he waited, hunched over a stone bench as he bore his gaze into the names etched along the stones. He had a glass of whiskey in one hand and in the other was a cigarette, the grayish plumes swirling upward and through the air to dissipate in the clear night sky.

Cedrick received the message and had eventually made his way to the outskirts of the Silkwood lands, the Graveyard. He was unsure of why Jacob wished to meet him there, but it didn't truly matter. After sometime, Cedrick finally arrived. He approached from behind and treaded forward at a normal pace. "Jacob." the nobleman greeted as he reached his brother's side.

He knew he was arriving before he saw him, the scent and sound of his cadenced footsteps warning him of his approach. Jacob offered his brother his profile and raised his whiskey glass. “Glad you got the message.” He shifted on the stone bench, making room for his brother to sit beside him should he wish.

Cedrick did indeed sit, and his eyes scanned over Jacob, “Mm. I was a bit.. confused.. when I found out you wanted to meet all the way out here.”

Stormy hues met his brother’s green ones and his lips twitched into a half smile that was more apologetic than anything. “Sorry about Lorraine’s outburst.” He looked away back to the stones and shook his head. “Five minutes from her side and she explodes.” He lifted the cigarette to his mouth and inhaled, then blew it away from his brother while offering him the glass of whiskey. “I don’t know. Seems like months since we’ve had a conversation about anything other than the company.” He went quiet again, brows furrowing as he chewed the inside of his cheek. “You ever think of them?” He said nodding toward the stones.

He waved at the mention of Lorraine, and shrugged in response to the question, “Not often.” Cedrick said, “I thought of father this morning, and the day that he died. He attempted to make amends. On his death bed, to ease his conscious.” A sigh escaped him, “Why do you ask?”

He shook his head, letting the cigarette snuff out beneath his boot with a quick twist of the polished thing. "No reason. Just curious," he blabbed on. "Did you enjoy the evening's events? I think Ven didn't a good job at surprising you, don't you think?" he said with a wolfish grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Mm. Yes, it did surprise me.” Cedrick continued to stare toward the graves of their parents, clearly distracted at this point, “I hope the affairs you saw to during the event have been handled?”

He looked back to the graves, nodding a single time, going silent as he did so. He considered his brother's inquiry, curious as to how he'd answer it. He lifted the glass of whiskey and polished it off, settling the glass along the stone bench now.

There, on that stone bench, two brothers stared at the graves of their parents.

He'd missed every birthday of Cedricks for the past thirteen or so years. This was the first one he'd been around for. The first several were of course out of his own control. But all the others? Jacob had always had an excuse of why he was away or not able to attend.

"Did you know... father came to visit me a few weeks before he died? Maybe it was a few months before. I don't know. I just know it was right after mother died..." His tone had grown quiet, solemn, the days of his imprisonment by the very man buried within the grave before them coming back to his memory full force.

"Perhaps. He never explained where he was going when he left… he would simply leave." Cedrick said, looking to Jacob from the headstones, "Why?" he questioned.

Jacob’s jaw tightened and a muscle began to tick. “He blamed me for mom’s death. Told me I broke her heart because I turned into some monster because of my accident,” he trailed off. “It was the last time I ever saw him, when he came to spew words of hatred. I’m not sure if he thought I was in there or not. I still wonder to this day why he never just killed me.”

Cedrick eyed over Jacob once more, “The same reason he didn’t beat mother and Allisiana. I made sure you were safe, or as safe as I could get you..”

He shifted his stormy hues to his brother, lips twitching into a semblance of a sad smile. “You always were the one who protected us when he never could,” he said quietly. He shook his head before looking back to the graves. “I’ll never forget the day six, seven? Years ago now, I don’t even know. When you brought the antidote to me that you’d some how acquired from the Gilneans.” He turned back Cedrick, a brow lifted. “How did you acquire it? You never did tell me.”

“Father’s personal stash.” Cedrick chuckled quietly, “I wrote a letter to the right person, and they apparently were able to speak to the man who created it. I bought a vial from him.”

He nodded, rumbling out his own chuckle as he looked away again. "Well, thank you. I know I haven't always been the best brother, going through that rebellious stage for years on end when that antidote was finally administered..." He cleared his throat, his jaw clenching again.

Leaning to the side, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small, wrapped parcel about the size of a palm.  "It's not much... but here you go," he said offering it to his brother.

When he unwrapped it, he'd be greeted with a solid, wooden box made of oak. Within, a ring of a wolf's head. It was made of silver and was slightly tarnished, but the carvings and etchings were immaculate. It held two brilliant sapphires as eyes. Along the band, engraved on the inside it read:

Through blood and tears, pain & joy, forever brothers we will be.

"Happy birthday, Cedrick," he rumbled out quietly.

@cedrickholtstories

[jacob-holt]

“To letting go of things that weigh you down and to those that lift you up.”

Continuation of “You nobles are all the same.”

Y’ri had looked at Jacob’s expression as he silently weighed her argument. It was when Jacob had repeated her final argument that she knew she had struck a nerve. Her head lightly shook as she knew that his temper was going to get the better of him, just like hers would. Her jaw began to clench together as she fought the urge to interrupt him, remaining silent he continued to speak on her accusation. Even with his eyes closed he could feel the glare that the elf across from him had cast, her ears wilting slightly to betray the hidden war that waged within. She didn’t wish for their last meeting to be like this, but it was too late to take back the truth. 

“You have a son that you asked me to help you raise. I thought that when you asked me that it was a silent way of acknowledging the love I held for you, Jacob; for your growing family. But instead, you wish for me to babysit while you get hitched to someone else.” Her head shook as her own temper began to rise further. “I will not be pushed aside and ignored.” Her tone remained calm, however obvious the venom that drilled from her lips was. “Everyone tells me to simply get over it; to move on. How can I?” Her hands were thrown into the air as she stood her ground, eyebrows pinching together as she continued to hold Jacob in her cross-hairs.

He stared right back, letting the ink seep into the parchment of the map, now ruined and useless. It festered, the blackened liquid finding the grains of the papery material and following them to the very edges where the work he'd done disappeared. It was like his emotions, the emotions he held back so, so well. But when they became overwhelming, the consumed him, like they black ink along the parchment now. 

"You assumed. That was your first mistake. I never asked you to be a babysitter. I asked you a question that had you being involved in my family, yes, but not for the reasons you've allowed yourself to fall victim to." He closed his eyes again, shaking his head and bowing it as he placed a palm along his brow, willing his gods forsaken headache to cease, but it only pounded further into his temples. "You sit here. In my quarters. Resigning from your position with insult laced upon your tongue, and you continue to try and place sole blame on me." He looked up, a haggard shadow falling over his exhausted face. "How can you? By doing what you're doing now," he said quietly. Too quietly. "By resigning. By finding your way. Where it is you feel you belong. Because you've made it more than clear it's not here."

A flurry of raw emotions gnawed at the inside of the elf as a knot began to form in her throat, betraying the cool and collected expression she tried to maintain. Her breathing became ragged and heavy as she tried to ignore Jacob’s unforgiving enlightenment. Her hands clenched to try and further her patience, regardless if her gaze remained unforgiving. “The blame is not only on you, Jacob.” Y’ri sighed in her frustration as she hadn’t planned on this conversation ending up the way it was going. The finality of his words seemed to break the elf, causing her stern frown to quiver as her eyes tightened. “Well forgive me for thinking that. You’re right...I shouldn’t have assumed such things.” The elf was still livid, but she didn’t wish to burn the bridge entirely. “I’m not sure what else to say, Jacob.”

He sat there, staring at her with an expression she would know as one that shielded all his emotion. His defense mechanism. Eventually he’d speak, letting a breath ease from his own lungs. 

“I’ll make sure you receive adequate compensation for a month’s pay to get you by until you find whatever it is you’re searching for. In the meantime,” he eyed his drawer where his whiskey bottle was and took out two glasses. He poured one for her and one for himself. Raising his glass, he looked right at her. 

“To letting go of things that weigh you down and to those that lift you up.” He’d offer a sad smile and down his glass, push to stand up, grab his hat and coat, and make to leave his cabin whether she drank the whiskey he poured for her or not. He paused at the door, turning his profile to her. “Oh and, if you are leaving, I hope you’ll say goodbye to Emory. Though, he likely already knows.” And the door shut behind him with a thud.

Y'ri had taken slight offense to the  the compensation that Jacob had offered, though she wasn't entirely sure why. It was as if anything could've been done to her in that moment that would've been seen as insulting in her eyes, for there was no hell like a woman scorned. Y'ri followed Jacob's movement as he reached for the glasses and bottle of whiskey, slowly shaking her head as she already had an idea of what was happening. She sat in silence as the liquid was distributed evenly, her ears flicking upwards as he made a toast. 

Suddenly, the sinking feeling that Y'ri was feeling had turned into a crushing weight that she could not shake. Her heart throbbed with regret but her mind raced with thoughts of her persistence and what would come of it. She couldn't help but think that Jacob meant she was one of the things that weighed him down, and the toast had turned to ash in her mouth. She remained silent as she stared at the drinks, only shifting her gaze as Jacob  got up to leave. The mention of Emory was just what Jacob needed to bring up in order for tears to begin flowing, but by the time they had he'd already be near the door. She'd remain with her back facing Jacob, continuing to stare at the drink as she heard the closing of the door. 

Y'ri's hand reached out for the drink and began to delicately twirl the glass as she watched to contents within move respectively. Her lips flattened as he leaned back against the desk, looking at the door that Jacob had walked through seconds before.  She blankly stared at the face of the door as the drink gently rocked back and forth within its prison. She silently raised it before the glass touched her lips and the liquid within was  drained. "Goodbye, Jacob."

@allseeker-wra @holtandthornetradingco

[jacob-holt]

Pineapples Under the Sea.

A small sigh escaped the prone form of the sleeping ginger haired woman. She was laying face down, a sheet slithering up her leg and wrapping in a thick rope around her bottom and waist until it was held under one arm. A small groan escaped her and she’d muttered out the words, “But, I don’t like pineapple on my pizza, Jacob...”

Jacob slowly.... oh so fucking slowly... lifted his head from where he was bent over his desk. He stared at the glorious curves , even despite the absurd mumbled words spilling out of the dreaming woman's lips. So he leaned back, his chair creaking quietly, and he crossed his arms over his chest with an amused look and waited to see if she continued.

She let out another tiny grumble and burrowed into the pillow; an arm sweeping out for another one which she pulled into her chest and hugged tightly. She sighed again, “No, no, no pineapple. It’s the fruit that eats you!” She said, raising her voice a little.

Jacob just lifted a brow further as his gaze shifted to the pineapple he happened to have on his desk. He liked pineapple. And he was gonna eat this one for breakfast. It was one fruit he actually enjoyed and he stocked up every time he went to Stranglethorn so there was plenty of reasons for him to have a random pineapple on his desk. With ease, he pushes himself up, snatches the pineapple, and carefully set it in front of her sleeping face. He then poked her, and leaned casually against the corner wall of the bed with his arms crossed.

She made a small smacking sound with her mouth as she awoke suddenly by the sensation of his finger hitting her ribs; one of many ticklish places. Her eyes seemed to open one at a time and then focused on the poor unsuspecting pineapple in front of her. She let out a yell of surprise and raises a hand to, literally, punch it!

The fruit was nailed but her tiny and mighty fist and it stood no chance as it went flying out the open window that was level to the bed in the cabin .... and into the sea below only to be carried away by the currents and likely snatched by a shark who would spit it out and it would sink to the bottom and become a home for some expecting sea sponge. Jacob was no longer amused. “Well there goes my breakfast...” he grumbled, glaring out the open window.

@lorraine-lemieux

[erolymun-blog]

Confessionals Continued.

{ Continued from here. }

The young elven woman was staring wide eyed across the table, her hand stilled along the stem of the now-full glass of wine. She blinked a time or two, shaking her head in disbelief.

“You... were a courier for my family?” She frowned at that, her face falling as she looked away, considering many things. But it was not all that surprising, for the Evermournes were in fact prestigious once upon a time. Until the fall of their daughter and the death of the Lady Galdrasta Evermourne shortly thereafter due to her grief.

Now, it was just the Lord Varthan Evermourne, an old elf with hatred in his blood for anything that wasn’t pure. He’d seek to shut himself away, becoming a miserable man of unfortunate disposition in the elven world.

Ero’lymun looked up again, fel-green eyes dancing with interest at the lady across from her. “You’re right. I have... recently taken a new position with someone. And my life is.. well, it’s starting to look up. But I can’t help but become terrified of once more being alone.”

{ @safrona-shadowsun }

[jacob-holt]

A Coward.

Y'ri had wanted to avert her gaze, but she wasn't sure what would hold her attention without it looking forced; which would only prove the fact that she was indeed staring at his shirtless form. Instead, she simply kept her eyes pinned to Jacob's body as he slowly made his way closer. "You're quite skilled against things that don't fight back." She teased with a playful grin as she dreamed of the day she'd be able to spar with him.

"Have you timed yourself on this little course of yours?" There was a genuine curiosity that underlined her tone as she began to step forward as well. The thick braid swayed along her back with every step she took towards the man that had done it. "I feared you had left for your relic already. Harriet said I could find you down here. I think she has eyes for you, my lord." A wide smirk pulled at the corner of the druid's lips as she awaited his response.

A strange connection was felt as those glowing, white eyes locked onto his own stormy gaze. He leaned down and swiped a linen shirt off the ground that was now dirty, but it was the only thing he had to wipe his face with after his exertions around the course.

Bringing it up, he dragged the fabric along his skin, creating a sweaty trail of dirt in its wake, but drying his skin all the same. "You should see me when they do fight back," he grinned broadly with a rumbling chuckle from his chest, indicating the straw dummies were of course not the same as being in an actual fight.

"And no, I haven't. I see no need for it." As she moved forward toward him, Jacob slowly lowered the shirt form his face, holding it low near his hips now. His face softened some as she voiced her worry and he looked.... not down at her... but directly eye to eye. She was a mere inch shorter than he was and truth be told? It was welcomed...

"Jacob," he corrected. "I am not 'my lord' to you, Y'ri. Just... Jacob. Or whatever other nickname you choose," he chuckled, averting his gaze.

At her observance, he sighed, looking a bit disgruntled. "I will be the first to admit that most women do have eyes for me. Why? My looks. And name. And I fucking hate it," he bit out.

He looked up once more to pin his eyes to hers. "I had one woman recently that I asked to court, and it was only for a short time. That woman fell in love with me. Me for me, as me. Nothing else. But I couldn't love her back. I just... it wasn't there. And off course I feel guilty about this, but then she left me to travel. And honestly, it was the best thing she could have done for herself."

He rolled his shoulders into a shrug and let loose a long sigh. "Perhaps I am destined to be a chronic bachelor," he grinned.

"I bet it sure is something." Y'ri confessed as she watches him draw closer, wiping his workout from his body with his slightly dirties shirt. "It seems you'll be needing another bath. Shall I fetch Harriet?" The elf's eyes slimmed as she narrowed her gaze in a teasing manner. As he looked into her eyes, she suddenly felt the playful, albeit antagonizing, banter slip from her thoughts as she lost herself in the raging storm that were his eyes. Of course, she couldn't help but get one last jab out herself. "Of course...my lord."

The mention of most women having eyes for him didn't seem like some boast to inflate his ego, but rather a weight that he had carried with him every day. She couldn't have imagined that having so many eyes on you could be a curse, but it soon began to make sense when she threw in the aspect of them just loving the idea of him, rather than for himself. "Perhaps you just haven't found the correct person to suffer for yet, or perhaps you are destined to be a bachelor; Maybe you may never find love, for there are other plans in store with you and with your son. There are more important things in this world, Jacob. Never forget that. I saw what the need for affirmation and the desire for attention did to my old captain. He gave his soul away without a second thought I search for love, and he was left behind just as soon as the deal was made. He was driven to the point where he couldn't even lead anymore because his mind was altered with his drugs almost constantly. Promise me you will never stoop so slow."

Y'ri maintained the gaze they shared between each other as her words left her lips, a certain desperation in her tone for she truly didn't wish to see Jacob fall so far. "Holt or not...you are still the man who saved my life and the father of your son; with or without a woman by your side."

He snapped his gaze to hers and narrowed his eyes at her final jab. But the smirk along his lips, it was there. Eventually he just shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle.

But then, she went on to speaking of things that he often thought of. He wouldn't look away from her as she spoke, letting her words wash over him and into his own soul. He knew who she spoke of, and the tale she wove was one of disappointment.

A deep frown marred his face as he finally looked to the dirt as she continued speaking. He'd stooped pretty low before, but not that low, he assumed.

Her final comments made him lift his gaze to hers, locking them there. She spoke like Rian did, but in a different light. One of more personal effect and one that was also... different, but oh-so welcome.

"I am not a perfect man. None of us are perfect, I know. But I have many faults and insecurities of my own. Fears that not even I can comprehend. I have felt far from strong over these last few months and truth be told, I've wanted to run off to my penthouse in Booty Bay and just stay there to drink and gamble my life away with whores by my side. It sickens me, even now, to consider that, but a part of me just wishes it were so easy."

He smiled sadly. "I really am a coward."

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