genessia | (no subject)

WHO: Cassian and Sanzo in one, Cassian and Amberdrake in another
WHAT: DINNER TIME and A brief material run
WHEN: Shortly after Christmas, before the shops in Fayren close.
WHERE: Everglade and Fayren
WARNINGS: Gore, violence, mentions of cannibalism

4 SANZO
He'd gone too long. He knew he'd over extended himself, the gift he got from Tannusen could only last so long. Wheezing, stiff, the faint sound of flutes beginning to sound in the back of his mind, tonight had to be the night. He wasn't going to risk it all again, he couldn't. He couldn't keep relying on someone else here to patch him up every time he fell into shit.

He was a grown man. He could take care of this.

As it had been for two thousand years, the hunt was on. As it had been for two thousand years, the iron dagger found its mark, the husk soulless yes, but oh how they screamed like any real living thing would. Once, perhaps, he would have shrunk away from the sound. A long time ago, he'd be frantic to silence them, clumsily slashing at vocal cords and sobbing in fear and horror-

He knew how to work now, and the screaming was quickly silenced to pathetic, wet gurgling as the cloaked man snapped ribs with ease, feeling the rippling sensation of that thing pulsing in the back of his head, feeding his meager strength. Peeling the membrane off the heart. Sinking his teeth in and silencing the husk forever.

Blood everywhere. It stank of it, but the pain in his body and his lungs faded with every bite, even if it couldn't fully sate the beast. Just another bandaid.

But for now, it would do.
4 Amberdrake

Of course, Everglade wouldn't have the materials he needed. No one would stock in the type of silver he required, and he didn't even ask any shops there. Seemed like a good way to get a lot of unwanted attention. So, wrapped up in fleece and wool, cranky and miserable and cold, headed for Fayren.

They'd have what he needed, or at least part of it. He could always return home and finish blessing it all later. He had some energy in his step now, so the little man was going to be quite the obnoxious terror in Fayren, picky and fussy with everything he picked up, viciously haggling every single object down.

"I'll only be takin' pure silver, and not anything else. I don't want any steel or nickle in any of this- What else is in this mirror? Oi! Tis a real question, does it look like I'm foolin' with ye?"

Yeah. Not a good day for Fayren.

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"Aye? Do ye now?" Wasn't that convenient.

"I'd like a sample of it, if it isn't too much trouble for ye. Perhaps a meetin' in a nice cafe somewhere." How quickly his anger had been brushed away when he got to talk about something he liked. He actually sounded cordial, if not pleasant.

"Afternoon, I don't like wanderin' Everglade after hours when I can help it."

Drake repressed a shudder at the name Everglade. Artfully repressed, no less; barely a hint of it made its way through.

"I try to avoid Everglade, though I do have a few clients there." It was quite possible he billed them extra. Hazard pay. "I tend to attract too much trouble in such a place."

Even Fayren was pushing it, sometimes.

"Do you ever go to Attleton?"

"It reminds me of home." How depressing, but there was a warmth in that tone that suggested either he was just used to living in a foggy nightmare land, or he took some enjoyment out of it.

"'Course most folk don't care for it. Tis a ah... niche appeal sort of a place." Bag in hand, he seemed ready to go now. "Ye need a proper escort, tis what ye need. I don't usually like to leave Everglade at all, if I am to be completely honest with ye. I don't enjoy travelin' too much."

"None of these cities remind me of home. Although I've been on four other worlds now, so I'm used to that. On those other worlds, I've had a lot of interaction with hostile undead. Zombies used to flat-out paralyze me at a distance, because I'm an Empath. Vampires... mn, it's been mixed results, but as I said, I tend to attract trouble."

Not unlike having Ukoku fixated on him. The corrupt Sanzo had even said he was ever-so appealing to a predator like him. Not news to Drake, of course. Not after... Kain.

Drake was fine with heading toward the door, though Cassian hadn't said he was wanting to leave, it was clear enough through Empathy and body language alike.

"I didn't catch your name, earlier," if he was going to be hooking Cassian up with supplies from his clients, he ought to know that much.

"They're a bit cut and dry to be exactly like home. Involves a bit of lookin' sometimes, if there's anythin' to be found. I'm lucky, I suppose." The word 'lucky' almost spat like a curse for the briefest moment.

"Empath is it? Curse of an ability. I'd be dead before I dealt with it meself." At least he was honest. "Most empaths I ever knew ended up dead sooner or later. Don't go to Everglade then, tisn't anything I can do what to shield ye from zombies and vampires if that is what ails ye."

He shifts the bags a touch.

"Cassian Lynch, don't bother tackin' on Father unless it's in a church."

Amberdrake chuckled at that, and inclined his head in a small bow. "I can shield, but if I crank them up too high it's like... sensory deprivation. Not pleasant. And leaves me vulnerable in a different way."

Going from being able to track everything around you as it pings your radar to sudden silence... yeah.

"I live with two priests. I'm used to it," Drake opened the shop door and held it open for Cassian. Wasn't he a gentleman? "Whatever level title you want, or don't want, I'll stick to it."

Never mind that he was a King, and used to dealing with titled people all the time back home.

"I do have a part-time bodyguard, I suppose I could just bring him with... but I really prefer to just avoid Everglade as much as I can."

"Then don't do it. I've got legs." There you go, he just essentially admitted he'd walk to wherever your place was. Treasure it. "Doesn't bother me a whit to wander through Everglade, can't feel any of that shite to begin with."

There's a snort from Cassian. "Aye then, do ye? They anythin' like the addle headed git in Genessia City?" Abel had honestly been nice enough to make him dinner and take care of him when he was sick, but the man had clearly neglected his own health too. Ergo; addle headed git. "No brains, just wanders out and does good without thinkin' of their own well bein' like dyin' a saints death in the middle of the woods promises ye life eternal. They ain't like that are they?"

Well, Koumyou could be pretty... amazingly scatter-brained. But that still didn't sound quite like him. Or did it? No, no, not with the life eternal bit at least.

"You'll have to be more specific," Amberdrake chuckled, and produced a business card from inside his feather-patterned robe. The name Sadullos Kestra was engraved above a simple address, and below that was Drake's phone number. He didn't have an assistant yet, to take appointments down for him. There was no one here he could trust with the position.

Well, Sanzo perhaps, but he was soooooo not suited to that job.

Life would be so much easier if there were hertasi here.

Edited 2016-12-29 02:06 (UTC)

Don't mention that guy around Cassian. He's learned that Koumyou is the most annoying human to ever be alive ever and his puns are on par with psychological warfare. They're a Geneva convention violation.

He takes the card and eyes it, before tucking it away in his pocket neatly. "If ye don't know what I speak of then ye don't have that issue, trust me on that one." But hey, this was still the nicest conversation he'd had with someone in a long, long time, and the priest actually held out a hand for one of the first, polite handshakes he's ever had since he got here.

"T'was a pleasure speakin' with ye."

"Same to you, Cassian Lynch," Amberdrake was at least familiar with that gesture, these days, and shook the priest's hand. There was a golden lotus tattoo on his right palm that took up the entire thing, and looked like brush-work filled in with yellow ink. It stood out, but didn't clash, against his dusky skin.

"Call me in a few days, and I should have that sample ready."

In return, in Cassian's palm, ungloved, raised skin could be felt, an old scar in a peculiar shape. He didn't allow it to be seen, just returned the hand to his side.

"Ye can count on it, sir."