The knight strolls up to the pavilion dressed in sharp clothing that somewhat mimics the cut and looks of armor. In one hand he carries a long, skinny box. In the other, a bottle of wine. As he enters the building, his eyes search around with a warm smile, looking for his dear friend. "Senes?"
Senes remains face-down in his cot, one arm flung over the pillow at his head while the other remains tucked under the blankets out of sight. He does not stir at the call of his name, but one of his ear twitches back.
Xanadar continues to look for movement or people until he notices the cot that his warlock friend is resting on. "Ah, Senes! Wake up, you lazy demon-lover! Today is your day to celebrate!"
He strides over to stand beside the cot, smiling wide down at the still body.
Senes's hand over the pillow shoots up, and twisting tendrils of half-metamorphosized demon hand wraps around Xanadar's neck. His body still does not stir, but his ears are visibly flattened back against his head.
"Ah, now you do not need to act like that. I am here to celebrate your birthday with you!" Xanadar places the bottle down on the cot before reaching up to pull the hand from his neck.
"You know I jest, in any case. Now get up! There is wine to be drank. It is quite old and from what I have been told, the berries used to make it are extinct." If the hand resists his pulling, a touch of light is used to encourage Senes to release him.
What seems like the hand's thumb pushes up against the bottom of Xanadar's jaw, at the soft spot below his tongue. "Don't call me that." Senes's voice is muffled, but there is still an audible hint of a feral growl. He finally turns his head, enough to fix a maliciously glowing eye at the knight. "Do you have any idea how early it is?"
This time, Xanadar forces the hand from his throat before replying. "It is quite past noon, Senes. If you wish for me to wait any longer, it will be into tomorrow!"
He sighs and goes to sit on the cot beside the grumpy man. "I am sorry, I meant it as a jest to make you move. Should I lean over to give you a kiss instead?" Watching his friend, Xanadar did not make a move towards him or show any physical attempt to make good on his offer.
"Still too early." Senes aims a hard punch at Xanadar's kidney. "But let me get up."
Giving a hearty grunt, Xanadar grins then stands easily. "Violent today, are we? Perhaps I should pour your wine for you, so that you do not throw the bottle at me."
He watches Senes with what seems like ease, but anyone with a warrior's eyes can see that he is stepping lightly, ready to dodge or defend as needed.
Grumbling, the warlock places his hands on either side of his body and hoists himself up. His long, disheveled hair falls around his shoulder and face, obscuring his face from view. "Is it just you here?" he asks in a marginally less grumpy tone. The unspoken 'Or will your sister join us as well' goes unsaid.
Xanadar's ears flick back as he looks away. "Aye, it is just me, for now. We will see if moods improve and such."
"Her mood or mine?" Senes sits up on the cot, then leans down to pull on his boots. He haphazardly pushes his hair back and ties it in its customary careless ponytail. His eyes are sharp as he looks at Xanadar, but shadowed; the sharp lines of his jaws have become more pronounced.
Xanadar loses a little of his smile, his voice going a little softer. "Both, if I were to say anything about it. Neither of you seem to understand the other, after all. Know that she is thinking of you this day, and wishing you well in any case, and do not dwell on anything else." He places a hand to Senes's shoulder. "You both should dwell a great deal less on the negatives in life, itself."
Senes accidentally steps on Xanadar's foot as he stands, even though his foul mood is completely his own fault for bringing up Niara in the first place. "We'll see about that," the warlock mutters, almost inaudible to Xanadar. He straightens his clothes with a sigh, then rakes his fingers down his ponytail. "Where to? Because I am not about to celebrate in the pavilion."
Xanadar grimaces at the accidental foot stepping, moving back from Senes as he lifts his slightly injured toes to rub against the back of his other leg's calf. "No? Well I do not see why not, it is quite pleasant. Perhaps outside then? Or to an inn? How about we open your gift and then see where our wine would best be consumed?" He places his hand to Senes's back, studying his friend with a more critical eye.
"Perhaps even an infirmary, where I can make sure you take in food and perhaps some healing..."
This time, Senes slams his foot down on Xanadar's foot without any pretense, glaring at Xanadar's eyes. "We are going to a nice, quiet shore in the edge of Quel'thalas without any unwanted healing." His hand slides up to Xanadar's collars, taking them gently between his hands. "Understood?"
Wincing with a grimace, Xanadar stares back down at Senes with less patience and good cheer. "I know of the perfect place, now stop acting as though I was insulting my friend instead of wishing to see him hale and in good health." He waits a few moments before his eyes soften again.
"Or are you getting this close for that kiss?"
Senes leans in, his eyes half-lidded. He holds the gaze for a moment before he jerks Xanadar down by his collars, enough so that his lips are against the knight's ear. His whisper is low, almost seductive. "If I ever express a desire to kiss a slobbering half-witted dog, kill me immediately."
Xanadar's eyes go wide in shock, then he bursts out into laughter, wrapping his arms around Senes in a tight embrace. "Very well! The next mongrel you find desireable shall be buried with you, as well!"
He pulls back to give Senes a quick kiss on the cheek. "If you are ready, I will have you ride with me; it will be quicker that way." His pulls back further, putting his hands on Senes's shoulders to watch his eyes.
"Believe me, riding with me will be anything but quick." Senes smirks, then tilts his chin toward the outside of the pavilion. "Lead on."
Xanadar laughs happily as he turns, heading out of the pavilion with Senes in tow. They mount up on the knight's warwolf, Xanadar holding Senes in front of himself. It is actually a rather short run for the wolf before they arrive to a large, open shore. Dismounting from the wolf, they find themselves standing in the warm sunlight, a slight breeze wafting around them.
Xanadar rummages around on a couple of packs on the wolf and pulls out a large blanket along with some wrapped food items. "We shall picnic as well, then. Always a good idea to eat while drinking, of course."
Pretending that he did not hear Xanadar, Senes grabs for the nearest bottle of wine. "According to who?"
"According to those who are healthy, actually." Xanadar smirks at Senes.
"Will you let me make a toast before you drink straight from a bottle?" He offers a wine goblet to the other man.
"I'm healthy," Senes grumbles, but a corner of his lips quirks up in a grin anyway. "Here," he adds, shoving the bottle into the knight's hands, "you can toast me with this."
"Over your head or..." Xanadar grins, then takes the bottle, easily opening it before pouring it into a goblet and handing it to Senes, then pouring one for himself.
"This one is nearly a hundred years old, took some time to find it." He holds up his own goblet and smiles fondly to Senes.
"To you, my friend. You are my most trusted and true friend with whom I have ever had an honor to know."
Senes takes the offered goblet and raises it with a sardonic sort of a grin. "Almost old as you, Xanadar." The glow of his eyes flares up momentarily, and the surface of his wine catches fire. "To me and my passions." The flickering fire reflects in the warlock's eyes before he tips his head back and drains the cup, the fire and all, in one breath.
Xanadar smirks slightly before tossing his own head back to down the contents of his own goblet. Smacking his lips afterwards, he raises his hand up to offer Senes the gift he had earlier.
"Will you open this now, or will you continue to act as though you have no interest in it?"
"I didn't see it earlier. I was too preoccupied with the thought of kissing you," Senes replies sardonically, but he still gives Xanadar a fleeting smile as he takes the gift. He gives the box a shake then raises a brow at Xanadar--but only for a second. He makes quick work of the wrappings and opens the present with customary impatience.
Xanadar winks at Senes's remark about the kissing, then watches as a medium-sized, bright-gold medallion appears. It shows two family crests linked together by several golden chainlinks and a pair of hands clasped below them. There are no words, but it is clear that this is a medallion showing the unity between two families; The Blackfire Family seal and the Muteki family seal. The medallion has a rope-like chain made of gold connected to it, to wear as a necklace if desired. The seals themselves have a feel of magic to them, obviously enchanted.
Senes stares diwn at the medallion, his expression unreadable for a moment. Something softer touches his eyes, and with a crooked smile, the warlock closes his hand over the necklace. "Why not just put a collar on me, Xanadar?"
"Oh, I know you would sooner admit to being a collector of tea sets than wear a collar given by me." Xanadar smirks, crossing his arms. "You can reach anyone in our famly using that, and they are able to reach you if you allow it." Xanadar gives him a more direct stare. "You do have the ability to simply... mute a voice on there, however. It will tug you to let you know someone wishes to talk, but you can tell by the tug who it is and ignore it."
"Would I not?" Senes replies absently, one finger running over the surface of the two family crests. He seem to be lost in a train of thought, one distant from Xanadar and their current moment. His eyes soon snap back to Xanadar, and he gives the knight a wry grin. A faint color touches his cheeks, the only hint that the warlock has consumed any alcohol. "We both know who you refer to. Do you honestly think that she'll try and talk to me now?"
Xanadar softens his smile to be a bit sad. "She is too much like myself to be able to forget you and not wish to know how you are."
Senes leans in, lifting a brow. "You mean, she's just as hopeless as you in that her bane in life is romance?"
Rolling his eyes, the knight chuckles. "She would not admit to it as such, nor I... but when it comes to matters of the heart, we do not know how to simply stop caring for anyone, no matter how they hurt us or how much we wish it otherwise."
Senes silently mouths 'matters of the heart,' then snorts as he leans back. "You two are ridiculous," he mutters before pouring himself another glass.
"You do not seem to mind my part in it, but she... ah! She is not used to expressing her feelings, in that regard." Xanadar grins, settling back and offering his glass towards Senes to be refilled.
Senes gives Xanadar a baleful, almost annoyed glare then drinks out of the bottle without so much as by-your-leave. He takes several large, showy gulps, despite the trickle of wine dribbling down from the corners of his lips.
Giving a sound of displeasure, the knight-friend sits up and grabs another bottle, opening it and pouring it into his goblet in one fluid motion. "Glad you enjoy the year... although it really is younger than I am."
Senes lowers the bottle from his mouth, eyeing the one in Xanadar's hand. He takes a breath, then--tackles the Blood Knight, headfirst into his chest.
"Oomf!" Xanadar is completely unprepared for the tackle, but reacts by dropping the bottle and goblet, wrapping his arms around the warlock to hold him tightly to himself, minimizing the room Senes has to swing his arms and punch.
"What the hellfire!"
Senes, unfortunately, is a warlock who doesn't need to kick or punch. "You forget, Xanadar," Senes whispers silkily against the knight's ear, "that I don't need to kick or punch." Fel magic like lightning crackles at his fingertips, and grinning, he presses a fingertip against the base of Xanadar's throat.
Gasping at the shock, Xanadar growls and raises one hand to dig into the drunk warlock's hair, pulling his head back.
"You know better than to try to dominate me, Senes." He speaks huskily, his eyes narrowed as they stare intently at his friend.
"Perhaps I should know better," Senes smirks, watching Xanadar through half-lidded eyes with his head tilted back, "but you know me. I can't resist." The warlock parts his lips, as if he might say something else--but instead a long, purple tongue whips out and wraps itself around Xanadar's throat. A demonic rune glows at the tip of the tongue, pulsating as it mockingly caresses the knight's jaw.
Xanadar freezes, then releases his hold of Senes to grapple with the tongue. "Damnit Senes, do not make me shock you." He unwraps the tongue from his neck and gives Senes a reproachful glare.
"Next time at least ask."
The tongue snakes back into Senes's mouth, not too unlike an unwilling slug, where it shifts back into its normal shape. "Mm-hm," he murmurs, his head against Xanadar's shoulder. He reaches up to pat the shoulder of the knight, but he doesn't get past his second pat before his words fall into a sleepy mutter. "I'll try."
Xanadar sighs as he wraps his arms around Senes once more. "Just... rest. For now." He speaks softly, hugging the sleepy warlock to himself. "Sleep and be at peace."
The word ricochets around the walls of her mind like a curse word. It's not as if she wanted anything permanent with anyone but to be called temporary… it was a blatant insult, demeaning, and it made her feel cheap.
Hellfires.
Temporary?
Was that the way Senes saw her? Had Master Muteki been speaking the truth? Or had it simply been his own musings that he had voiced aloud?
Her fist tightens in the tangled sheets of her old bed, her eyes squeezing shut as she tries to banish the thoughts. She had blatantly lied when she had said she was going to the inn. There was no money to spare for it. Any money she had was being set aside so she could afford her own home, so she could actually have somewhere to call her own.
She screwed up; she knew it but now she had no idea on how to fix it. Senes deserved an apology, but at this point he would only think she was doing it out of fear, instead of sincerity. Something in him had snapped when she threatened him, whether it was an empty threat or not. He had treated her like he had treated others that meant little to him, after the threat. and that is what hurt the most.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she leans against a tree with her ear tips limply hanging over her shoulders. Would he ever let her come near him again? Not just physically, but as a friend? Would he oppose her joining the Phoenix Guard?
Despite what he and her own brother thought, she truly did wish to become more active again in her role with Silvermoon, however, she did not want her more active role to involve becoming a Magistrix. The Phoenix Guard seemed rather formal, if not for the rather poor behavior of the woman that Master Thaelis had dueled with.
He had asked her to yield when she could not fight anymore, and she had instead of accepting a graceful defeat spat the words of "shut up" at him, as if he was glorifying his victory over her! Once he had let her go without even a hint of mocking, she paid him no respects and stomped off like the bratty child she was. Surely she was not a full member of the team... Unlike him, of course. A captain!
Her lips curl slightly up at the thought of the handsome knight who had such kind eyes. He had turned his smile into a more professional demeanor once she expressed interest in joining his group, however she would not be so quick to forget the warmth his expression gave before that.
Hopefully soon... they would receive her application to join the Guard and ask to meet with her. Perhaps a personal letter would be beneficial as well?
No. If they are looking for any extra magi's to join them, she would be receiving notification soon enough. Perhaps she will be able to once again be proud of the work that she will be doing for her city. Especially since now that mad orc was no longer in charge of the Horde itself.
He cooled her and soothed her aching chest, then worked on isolating the plague and the liquid from the pneumonia she was suffering previously from. When her breathing grew steady and with a minimal amount of rattle, he finally could sit back and relax a little himself. He hugged his mother for a long bit, feeling almost like a child again as she stroked his hair comfortingly.
Perhaps Reeve had some other ideas of how to pull it from her chest, also he needed to tell them about Valyssa's intentions.
When she fell back asleep, he quietly walked over to a desk and wrote a letter in his flawless hand.
Lord Reeve Blackburn,
He wrote the letter out as inoffensively as he could, merely informing him and Ausra of the letter from Dominick, and how it was not a bad letter, but that Valryssa's intent was not as she might have otherwise made it seem.
Now, back to his mother...
He sent the message out with the bird, and returned to sitting with his mother.
#project hail mary
#lana del rey
#photography
#artfight
