How To Hire A Villain

[Stare]

"Holy Kami!"

As soon as he dropped to his knee and offered his blade, Stare was taken aback. Immediately she dropped the book as he began to utter words of fealty. As it landed with a light thud he continued speaking, and looked up to her. Fully golden-amber eyes peeking through the holes of his black mask.

Hiding a face she could not see.

Slowly the kenku blinked and stumbled back a step, her hands up in the air. "I ... I uh ... Fuck."

Uneasily she ran a shaking hand over her head, pressing down and scratching through the feathers there with the claws. Dust and dirt fell, as well as a few tiny flakes of ash that were remnants of where she had been walking only a couple of hours before. As she thought rapidly, her own black eyes meeting his gorgeous ones she fretted and tried to actually realise what the feck had just happened. The few moments of the elf giving her the book. The words 'binding of the contract'. Him, here, now, kneeling in front of her. It all made sense plot-wise, but it really had not been what she had been expecting when she had walked into this pub.

I want to see his face.

"Eh?" she said out loud. And then she realised she had completely temporarily forgotten about Vitruvion here. Her master. Her bloody god.

"Fudge," she nodded, remembering he could see exactly what she did. "Yeah. Uh ..."

Leaning forwards she tried to smile, and failed as usual due to the massive beak on her face. Giving the kneeling man an apologetic look in her eyes she paused for a moment before gently touching the mask.

"Sorry, do you mind if I ... um ... take it-"

Unexpectedly the man suddenly nodded. He made no move to put up his own hand to offer to help, but rather tilted up his chin in a proud, but still accessible way that allowed Stare to easily reach the underside of the mask. Pausing, she took a breath, then very carefully fitted her claws beneath it, gentle enough to not break skin. With a slow motion, uncertainty still pulsing through her veins, she eased the mask up and over and off his face.

Her eyes blinked. And she looked at the man with features as alien as her own.

Deep like the ocean, blue-indigo skin. Sharp, handsome features. Exotic, seamless tattoos. Hair expertly and tightly combed back into a high ponytail. And those eyes that were as whiteless as her own - observing, profound, majestic.

"I am sorry," she said in a quiet voice, as she offered him back his mask. "But thank you. My name is Avis, but I am known as Stare, and I apologise for what I have forced you into. But I need someone to assist me, and assist ... well assist my own master." She tightened her spare hand into a fist, slowly bending down to pick up the book once more.

"Tell me, are you good at all in getting revenge?"