So, a Samurai and a Sailor board a boat...

[Tainted Bushido]

Closed to Siren.
Rated PG-16 for adult content.

The cloth wiped along the blade, rather than clean the blade, as it had countless times before; it spread thin oil across the blade. Each swipe of the cloth sought to spread the oil evenly over the polished surface, even if the result was to dull the brilliance of the blade. The light of the candle reflected softly in the amber fluid, even before it was returned to the sheath. The blade was then set in a stand with its brother, left to rest for the moment.

In the small room was a man. He was bare from the top up, with the top of his outfit hanging about his waist. His white hair flowed freely over his shoulders, even as the countering streaks of black skin raced along his spine in a race to cross his body. Similar streaks ran down the man's arms, even as he tossed the cloth on the nearby table, and hefted a large sigh of finality, having finished the job he had set before himself.

The lantern that hung from the ceiling rocked slowly in harmony with the bouncing of the floor. Each gently rock sought to ease the tension readily evident in the young man's back. Slowly a larger cloth was wrapped about the swords, still in their saya's, before they were placed at the man's hips.

With that done, the shirt he had bunched about his waist was slowly pulled up, covering the blackened streaks of skin. A belt about his waist was retied, closing off the kimono, before another layer of cloth was placed over the kimono's sleeves. All in place, he carefully reached up and tied his hair back in a low ponytail, only eager to keep the long locks of hair from rushing forward to greet his face and eyes. He had no fear of battle today.

He looked down upon the armor that rested on the nearby mattress that would serve as his bed, before he let out another soft sigh. A blackened hand reached out and grabbed the breastplate, moving to place it upon his body. Each piece was carefully placed upon him, keeping his clothing close and hiding the traces of his malady. The affliction upon his soul hidden, he stretched before he nodded softly. The room was rather stuffy, and he needed a bit of fresh air.

Leaving the bag that contained the rest of his traveling amenities he carefully walked out the door. His eyes looking about the boat, making sure he wouldn't get in a sailor's way, as he had been warned not to. Moving above decks he closed his eyes and deeply breathed in the sea's air. It was a refreshing scent, and a nostalgic one for the warrior, who had at one time lived in a port town.

His eyes opened before he smirked softly and moved to the bow of the boat, resting an armored hand upon the railing. He was confident he wouldn't fall in, even if the other sailors occasionally took the time to warn him. He only replied politely a thanks for their concern, but remained unmoving. He was enjoying the sight of the ocean, and further of the sky. It was a day he otherwise wouldn't have had the luxury of enjoying, had it not been for Asakari Aiko's plan.

[Siren]

Siren couldn't really say that Akashima was her favorite place in the world. The people were too damn polite and modest, it didn't have many great colorful profanities, and the local rice wine didn't have the same kick as a good ale...and just tasted too mild to a palate accustomed to the rancid swill known commonly as "grog." And they served it in those damn little itty bitty cups. How was a girl supposed to get drunk on a sip of wine at a time?

The food was pretty good, at least in Yanbo Harbor...then again, seafood really agreed with her, and when they sold such delicacies as squid and octopus...it still didn't make up for the booze. But she'd found a little ship that was willing to take her on as a sailor, so she was once again bound for the debauchery of Radasanth, which would suit her much better.

They weren't far off shore; they'd only cast off that morning. That suited the dark-haired sea-vixen just fine, though. The ship bobbed and rolled gently underfoot, the sails rustled gently in the wind, and the rigging creaked softly to hold it together. The ship was smoothly on its way; fair winds and a following sea meant that there wasn't too much for the crew to do. Some of the sailors gambled, some worked on elaborate macrame projects, and when she was done swabbing the deck, Siren looked around for something to do.

She wanted to go swimming. Unfortunately, the ship was moving faster than she could sustainably swim. It was a little early in the day to hole up with any of the crew, as well. They could be called at any time, and it was a mood killer to be in the middle of something steamy and then have to go man rigging. Not that any of the bozos on this ship looked like they had much to offer.

With a frustrated, bored sigh, the half mer walked idly around the deck, letting the wind tease a lock of deep blue or green hair. There was someone else enjoying the clear weather, a samurai from the looks of him...but either a poor one or one that had gotten thrown back and now couldn't find a new job. Akashima was cruel to its failed warriors.

Still...there are tales among the geisha of samurai swords... She stifled a grin at the thought.

When Siren passed by the ronin, she barely spared him a glance, but her steps soon stopped. She eased her perfect body down not far from him, leaning on the railing and putting her chin in her hand, focusing her big silver eyes out into the distance.

Now to see if he takes the bait...

[Tainted Bushido]

The Ronin detected movement nearby, enough that he feigned scanning the horizon to see what the source was. While he had managed to see the source, he realized quickly that he would need a better look, for he was more than certain that his eyes had deceived him. There was no way a woman could have such a wild array of colors in her hair. Her demeanor was so carefree, the exact opposite of the rather reserved and calm warrior. It was an oddity to the man, who lived in a society of conservative display.

Still he remained calm, even while a hand gently tightened its grip on the railing, the only outward sign of his excitement, if it could be called that. Taka had long since learned to put on a more passive face to the world. He was a warrior, and warriors couldn't let their emotions get the better of them. This was what he had been taught, and trained to do, in order to function as a dealer of death. Still, every now and then, bits of emotion would slip through the cracks, and allow the observant to see the truth.

Taka was still riding on a whirlwind of emotion, only that morning he had seen the Hantei Jubei, who had at one time wished the Ronin's death, cause a commotion to set him free. He had never expected his former commander to act on his behalf again, yet it had occurred. Last nights events not withstanding, he was more than certain he should have been dead three times over. It was so much to handle, and there was still a residual flurry of emotions. Perhaps it was this that caused him to turn his head, ever so slightly, and gaze upon the woman as she stared out to sea wistfully.

He nodded softly to the woman, acknowledging her presence before he looked back to the sea. He had seen it plenty of times, yet today was different. There was a different taste in the air, a different feeling in his being. Everything seemed new and fresh; it was almost as if he had never seen these sights before today. Perhaps it was the stolen day, or perhaps it was a feeling of coming through something alive, but Taka was more than certain that he was going to relish these feelings, until they too went away.

His eyes drifted to the sky before a wry smile lit up his face. Chuckling softly he spoke, "Susano'o must be in good spirits, to allow such a carefree day on the waves..."

[Siren]

Siren turned her face to the samurai, letting her eyes go violet in amusement. "A good mood...mmm...yes, perhaps." She graced him with a tiny little grin, letting her eyes flick over him. Gray eyes were a rarity in Akashima...but he looked so young to have white hair. It was curious.

She let herself lean in toward him a little bit, feeling her shirt pull down a bit to expose a little of her generous cleavage, and she twirled a lock of deep red hair in her fingers. "That's what's enchanting about the sea. You have days so perfect they couldn't possibly be real...so perfect, with the gentle waves bobbing you up and down...and then in an instant it changes completely...and you're screwed." Her voice had an odd quality to it...something musical, something entrancing...something not at all human. It flowed out of her full lips with little tiny pauses or in little flows, so that it was nearly impossible to just drown in it completely.

Her eyes flickered cobalt blue for an instant, before fading back to silver. "Still...times like this are meant to be enjoyed to their fullest. It isn't often that the water shines so."

She didn't have a very good feeling about the rest of the trip. For the next few hours, perhaps, yes, the sea would be calm and the winds fair. But there was a creeping scent in the air that sailors learned to heed. Storms were brewing in a big way, and even though the sky was a perfect crystal bowl and the horizon devoid of any sort of darkness, they were coming. Just not right now.

She grabbed hold of a taut line, letting her fingers curl around it to keep her aboard when she jumped up to sit on the railing. Her head tilted into her hand, away from him, but she kept her kelp green eyes fixed on the ronin. "It's rare to see Akashimans outside of Akashima. Did some siren song draw you out, or does business take you to Radasanth?"

[Tainted Bushido]

He tried, oh how he tried to maintain composure. Had his Sensei seen him now, he most likely would have been hit upside the head and forced to do some chore, with the excuse that if he had enough energy to act like a child, he would be treated as one. Still he managed to maintain some semblance of himself as he looked into her eyes.

She was a warrior, even if she tried to hide it.

Her violet irises were bewitching, almost daring him to look deeply within. Had he been a samurai of more, loose ends, he might have attempted a bit of poetry in an effort to woo the girl. However, Taka was not such a samurai. He was never one to really dally with the Geishas of Akashima, and while they were alluring creatures, he had learned that the carnal pleasures they gave were not truly necessary.

But when she leaned forward, his heart skipped a beat...

...until he saw the irises flash blue, before settling on a bright silver. Immediately his eyes hardened, and he raised an eyebrow, just what was she? He knew of no human who could do such a thing, let alone have such a wild patch of colors in their hair. His mind raced with answers, a hag or perhaps an Oni seemed appropriate, but if it was truly one of those, she would have acted to kill him already. The creatures of Jigoku, of hell itself were not prone to fits of patience.

When she flashed green eyes, his eyes had already finished the process of closing off any peek into his soul. His eyes had grown to prepare for a battle, if one should come, though he didn't relish drawn steel on the ocean. He had after all spent hours wetting his blades with oil, for the singular purpose of keeping them from rusting on the high sea.

"I left of my own accord, there was no future for me there, only a past that refuses to set me free," His response was firm, holding no cause to question it. It was true, in the strictest sense of what he had said, there was no future if you were dead, and his past did wish him dead, in the form of the Duke Arasaki.

"I must ask, for I rarely see such interesting people like you, are people of your kind common in the greater world? It's not everyday I meet as colorful a person as yourself," He casually raised a hand, and gestured to his own hair. His words were laced once more with decorum beyond necessity. Perhaps it was him acting tough because he was unsure of the situation, but he couldn't relax around the woman, not anymore.

[Siren]

She hadn't thought she'd reeled too fast, but something made him shy away, and the gray eyes that had looked on her with the raw, hungry lust of the young had grown hard and suspicious. He had been leaning toward her a little, coming closer ever so slowly, responding to a primal call. Whatever the reason he'd lost interest, Siren was content to let it be. It wasn't like he was the only person on the ship, and in all likelihood, the very thing that had scared the samurai was going to draw them in ever faster.

Her worn leather boots touched the solid oaken deck lightly, and the slender hand released the thick coil of rope that had been her solid connection to the vessel. Her eyes went back to their neutral silver, and she twirled her hair through her fingers some more.

"If you're asking are sailors rare, the answer is no. If you're asking if women are rare, well...I'll have to say no to that, as well. Women sailors are. But if you're asking about this..." she flicked a lock of hair, letting the breeze catch it, and then she motioned him over to a water barrel, pulling the lid off and plunging her hand into the cool, fresh water. Webbing instantly spread between her fingers, and she held her hand up to show him. In the air, the webbing quickly vanished, but it was enough to show what she was.

She gave him a shrug. "My mother was a mermaid. I don't know what my father was. Probably human. It doesn't matter. My kind are extremely rare. Most sailors only see one or two of us in a lifetime of voyages, few who stick to land ever see us. I've never even seen another halfblood." She put the lid back on the barrel and turned to leave him.

"Enjoy the rest of your trip." She started walking away from him, letting her hips sway a little more seductively than normal, just to show him what he was missing. But she wasn't going to pursue him...no, that was his move to make, if it happened.

[Tainted Bushido]

Taka watched carefully as she left, his eyes focused on the fast drying hand of the woman. She moved with a seductive grace that would have inflamed his passions had he not been on edge. He was more than certain she was toying with him, trying to entice him and get him to follow her, as masterfully as any royal geisha. She certainly was good at what she did, be it maneuvering aboard a ship, or maneuvering about a man’s heart.

Shaking his head to clear it of the fog she had instilled in it, he noticed he had been holding his breath, in anticipation of something. What he wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he could tell that he indeed desired something. Whether or not it was something worth pursuing was a different matter entirely. Part of him, perhaps his more selfish part wished to bed the girl and see if she was as good as she pretended to me. The more cordial side, the one he trusted far more, told him to stay put, and that she was trouble.

A man in love, and a man in hate: both are willing to do anything to accomplish their goals...

Another small epithet from his Sensei rang in his mind. Love was a dangerous road, and while highly valued by Samurai, love came after duty. You married before you ever partook of love, and to achieve otherwise is a fool's bargain. He would control his urges, only because Love would make him do stupid things. After the trip, after he was safe, after he had survived and fulfilled his oath to Asaraki Aiko, he would see about doing anything of that sort, if he felt the need.

Looking up at the sky he covered his eyes, staring into the deep blue, before he saw thin wispy clouds. They seemed so innocent, but he could tell the sailors were on edge. If those clouds and the sailor's behavior were an indication, there was a storm brewing on the horizon. Moving swiftly below decks he moved the get out of the way of others, there was no need for him above decks.

If they were entering a storm, he would not wish to get those who could get the job done delayed to their posts. It was now his duty to hide below decks, and place faith in the crew's ability to navigate the approaching storm.

[Siren]

Siren's earlier instincts had proven correct; the storm came on within an hour of her having spoken to the samurai. At first the wind blew in stronger gusts, ones that didn't simply play with hair, but made clothes whip and sails groan. Then, as the gray clouds covered the once unmarred sky, tiny droplets of water started spilling onto the ship, drumming softly on the bare wood.

Sailors once consumed by ennui sprang into action. The cargo that could be moved below was; sails were furled and rigging secured. The anchor was dropped. But it wasn't nearly enough.

Before long, the sea was a raging beast. The waves, once so placid, now reared their foamy white heads over the side of the ship, ramming into it and flooding the deck with brine. More than one sailor was swept off the small ship, claimed by the rage of their cruel mistress.

Siren was scrambling around the rope nets that led up the ship's single mast, securing lines. She'd taken her boots off when the storm had hit, stowing them in her bag with her other few worldly belongings. If she took a spill, she didn't want to have her feet locked into chunks of leather.

Heavy drops of rain battered her and the rest of the crew as they struggled to keep their footing on the badly listing ship, trying to save it from the ocean's wrath. Her clothes and hair were plastered to her body, and over the whipping wind and din of the storm, there was no hearing orders, just each sailor working as best he - or she - knew how.

The waves became rougher, dragging more sailors to sea, and then there was the terrible groan of metal struggling to maintain its grip...and giving up. With a mighty snap that she could hear above the storm, the anchor gave, ripping out a chunk of the ship with it. Immediately, the listing grew worse, as the only stability the ship had was ripped from its aft with greater violence than it was designed for. The mast was complaining, too. Already the sails were trying to collapse, and it wouldn't be long after that that their proud bearer followed suit. Siren could see the men that remained on deck getting the two small life boats ready to abandon the doomed vessel. Lifeboats didn't stand much chance, but they were better off than the rapidly filling wreckage.

Sliding down the ropes, Siren made her way below, knocking on passenger doors and announcing that they needed to get to the life boats immediately. When she reached the hammock assigned to her, she grabbed her bag and her weapons, slinging the first so it wouldn't impede her while swimming and holding the harness for the latter loosely in her hand. On her way back up, the drenched sailor helped the few passengers keep their footing and directed them to board the tiny boats.

The captain looked across the deck at her, motioning for her to get on as well, but she shook her head.

"THERE'S NOT ENOUGH ROOM! I'LL SWIM IT."

His mouth and motions said she was a fool, but she couldn't hear him. She kept directing passengers and other, more tired sailors to get onto the boats, standing by to drop them into the sea and to their fate. It wasn't likely a good fate, either.

[Tainted Bushido]

"You gotta go lad, the waves are sinking us. It seems we angered Yedda, and she's taking it out of our hides..." The older sailor said, moving to the small room that had housed the Ronin. Taka looked up at the man quizzically before he nodded and grabbed his bag. He hadn't had time to even get out of his armor or remove the daisho from his hip, and he was partly thankful. Either of them left behind wouldn't bode well for the ronin.

Moving swiftly above decks he heard the crack of thunder saw the flash of lighting. The gods struck forth in an effort to remove the ship that had blemished the beautiful sea only this morning. Fate was a cruel mistress, but Taka couldn't complain, he knew death was inevitable, and when his time came, it would come. Moving up on the deck he looked out to see waves cresting over the side of the small boat.

People were being shepherded onto ships and let off, to try their fate amidst the waves. The irony of being in the situation was not lost on him and he didn't wish to test his luck, given his current situation as a Ronin, or wave man. Moving forward he saw that one of the boats had room for one more, however there was another nearby who seemed desperate to get on the boat.

The sailors tried to force Taka aboard, only to have the Ronin immediately reach for the desperate man and pull him forward. Shoving him onto the boat the Sailors looked at him as if the man was crazy. Taka watched them lower it before he shouted over the noise of the crashing waves, "I'll get on the next one!"

The sailors nodded, watching carefully as they prepped the next boat, only to find their time had run out. The gods struck with brutal efficiency, and a bolt of lighting struck the ship. The effects were immediate, as the Ronin was tossed into the air, the waves immediately pulling the middle of the ship below, and cracking the vessel in half. Taka flailed in the air trying to grab hold of something, before he crashed hard against the waves, finding them not gentle at all, and he hit it like a brick wall.

The Ronin had no time to curse before he blacked out, and began his descent below the waves.

[Siren]

The bucking of the sinking ship failed to throw Siren from the ship, although it threw her hard onto the deck like an abusive lover. She struggled to get her footing and get to the side, slinging her weapons' harness over her shoulder along the way. By this time there was open panic among the few still on deck; they couldn't get into a life boat and it was more than three miles to the mainland. If they were lucky, it would be just over a mile of choppy seas to any sort of land at all.

Without so much as a look back at the sinking ship, Siren took a deep breath and plunged over the side, breaking the surface with her hands before it could batter the rest of her. The water was cold, almost frigid. Those who didn't drown in the raging sea or from the exhaustion of trying to swim the long distance to land would freeze to death in a matter of hours, sucked dry of their vital heat.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone sinking, and instinct took over. With a flick of her legs the half-mer dove after him, grabbing the drowning man and then powering him to the surface. She was a little surprised it was the samurai from earlier, but she wasn't surprised he wasn't breathing. Sharply, with the sea buffeting her body, she drove her hands up from under his ribcage, and after only a couple of repetitions, he coughed up a lungful of brine and took in a breath. But he still didn't wake.

"Gods damn my good nature. You're a lucky man, Samurai Butt." She turned them around so that they would be headed toward land and started pressing through the rough seas. If he started hindering her own ability to survive, she'd let him drown. But until then, she'd tow him.

The storm was quick as it was brutal, and was already dying down as the last of the ship gave up its fight to stay afloat.

[Tainted Bushido]

The waves continued to lessen about the two as they swam for shore. The water splashed up only when they crested a wave, but always slapping just below the Samurai's face. Finally, one managed to splash into his face, and in the panic of temporarily being unable to breath, the ronin awoke and realized, someone was swimming him to shore.

A wet cough immediately marked him awake as he began to flail in the water from the sudden encounter with asphyxiation. Immediately the flailing became more controlled as he kicked his legs hard, helping him to propel towards wherever they were going. Looking down he saw a slender arm about his chest, going from one armpit to the other, even as the form of someone kicked under the waves.

Looking to the side he saw the bright, multicolored hair of the merwoman, at least, self proclaimed. Still, the wet hand, which even now had webbing between the fingers gave him little room to argue the point, even as he shook his head, letting his wet and soaked hair move from out of his face. His voice was a bit strained, even as he continued to kick and help the girl along, "I suppose I would owe you for saving me...where are we going?"

"Toward land. Can you swim, Samurai Butt?" She waited for his confirmation before letting him go, stretching out her arms. "You're heavy."

Taka immediately spun in the water and stretched a hand out, paddling as he had been taught, keeping above surface before he explained, "I used to be a guard for Yan-bo harbor. I was taught to swim, but at those times it was in a kimono or less, not in full gear. I can make it, but I'll tire if we don't reach land soon..."

"I've already gotten you more than a mile out. If you're lucky, we have about half a mile to an island. If you aren't...two miles to the mainland." She flicked her legs again out of habit, using her arms to steer like a dolphin, rather than to propel herself as a human. "But I think you're in luck. Visibility's shit, but I think I can see something in the distance."

"I'll do it then, I don't doubt we can make it if you see land from our position," The ronin replied as he continued to move forward, stretching an arm out to break the waves before him, and kicking his legs to propel him in the displaced water. This pattern continued for awhile, him trying desperately to reach the land he had been promised, and ignoring the fact that his arms burned, his bag was weighing him down, and his daisho had threatened a few times to slip free and float upon the waves, his blades forever lost.

He had to make it to land, he had to survive, and he had to live.

[Siren]

The samurai was awake and swimming now, so she should have left him on his own, to win or lose the battle with the sea on his own terms...but she'd gotten him so far already that it would just piss her off if he didn't make it. So she kept pace with him, keeping her toes spread and kicking her legs as though they were still a tail. If she'd wanted to, she could have sped off into the spray and been at land in anywhere from a few minutes to an hour. But she stayed.

He was focusing too hard on the swim. He'd fight hard to his very last breath, but for the hardest fighters, the sea would humble them. She "stood" in the water, using her webbed hands to propel her while keeping herself in front and to the left of the samurai. Her shirt was plastered to her body like a second skin; for a moment she regretted it wasn't white. "A guard for Yan-bo Harbor, huh? I guess that's interesting. I used to be a whore. Got bored of it after a while and left. So, what should I call you, or does Samurai Butt work for you?"

"Taka," the ronin replied, continuing to swim toward land with his concentration unabated. "It's all I have anymore, since I was cast out and lost my family name..."

"I'm called Siren. But I don't really care what you call me, so long as I can tell it's me you're talking to." She continued to try and chat the ronin up, but his responses were always brief and the determined glint never left his gray eyes, so when land appeared before them, less than a quarter mile out, she let him have his concentration and swam ahead a little to find out if there were sandbars or riptides or anything nasty to meet them. There were, of course. There always were, but she was able to navigate a safe way through, and when she came back to him she led him to shore.

When she got there, she laid down, just resting for a moment, but the samurai was up almost instantly. He was freezing, and if he was going to survive this hellish experience, he would need a fire.

While he got a good, crackling blaze going, Siren wrung out her hair and extra clothes of water, hanging them to dry, and then removed her shirt, as well, before she went to sit by the fire. He seemed like a real prude, so for modesty's sake, she kept her pants on. But there was no WAY she was sitting out in a wet shirt.

[Tainted Bushido]

Immediately the Katana left its sheath as Taka emptied the saya of water. He shook his head as he inspected the blade, trying to see if any rust had already began to form on the only thing he had left to identify him in the world. His eyes searching the blade for imperfections before he rested the blade softly near the fire, a reverence in his actions.

He quickly repeated the process with his wakizashi, searching the blade while helping it dry off. The wet cloth of his Kimono offered no resistance to the winds that whipped up from time to time. It left a chill deep in his bones that threatened to bite through him. Ignoring it he emptied his wakizashi's saya of water as well, before he sat next the fire, and laid both blades beside him. He couldn't do anything until he had dried anyways.

His eyes searched the fire, even as another wind bit into him, seeking his tender flesh and finding it with unerring accuracy. The coldness seeped into this kimono, and threatened to chill his very blood, but he wasn't sure what to do. The woman across from him was bare topped, and did nothing to cover her flesh, letting him spy upon it if he so wished. He couldn't understand a woman like that, and so he kept his eyes on the fire, wondering just how he was going to keep warm like this.

His arms hugged his knees as he leaned forward, curling in an effort to conserve heat. It limited the amount he was chilled by the winds, but it still was cold. He shivered softly from the breezes each time they assailed him. Shaking his head he looked up at her almost questioning as to how she could survive the biting cold with no shirt on.

Siren watched him shiver for a bit, keeping close to the fire, but not too close. After a while, a coy grin spread across her lips, glinting in her firelit amethyst eyes. She leaned in toward him just a little bit. "You do know, don't you..." her voice was soft, sweet...so sweet... "Wet cloth will take away body heat far faster than bare flesh ever could."

He immediately shot a glance at the woman, while she moved seductively close. A bit of her wild hair had fallen over the shoulder, and he wasn't sure if it was intentional or not. It was alluring to say the least, and he felt an attachment to the woman. Something beyond the base lust he had felt for her on the ship. She had saved his life, and probably would continue to do so as she helped them get back to the mainland.

His eyes looked down before he sighed, defeated. A hand reached up and carefully loosened the straps for the kote from his hands, letting the armor plates fall to the sand underneath him. He couldn't afford to freeze to death, he had promised Asaraki Aiko he would survive, and failure to do so would be an insult to the sacrifice she had made for him. Soon he had tossed off the last of his armor, and reached down to the Haori.

Taking the large jacket off he felt surprising warmer, as if the air was finally starting to heat him. Immediately he reached for the belt keeping his Kimono shut before he paused. There was no way she knew about the taint upon his soul, and yet he was afraid to reveal this dirty secret. What would he say if she asked? That it was a sickness? That he was doomed to become a demon's plaything?

A shuddering breath filled him before he untied the belt, and slowly peeled the top off of his form. His white hair danced softly in the breeze, even as he tossed the haori and kimono towards the fire, where they began to steam, the heat making them dry out. The blackened streaks of skin raced from his forearms up towards his elbows, easily visible, as did the similar streaks racing beside his spine.

He looked over at her before he let a soft sigh escape his lips and said, "Some day eh?"

[Siren]

Siren shrugged at the ronin's attempt at conversation, leaning back and supporting herself on her hands. "It's certainly not a normal day at sea...but it's also not the first time I've seen a perfect day throw me into the drink." She pulled some of her hair over her shoulder, obscuring the breast closer to him, but also drawing the eye to it more by covering it with a spidery webbing of jewel toned strands.

Her eyes turned toward him, trailing her amethyst eyes over his bare torso. "See, warmer already." The blackened trails of flesh that covered his body were interesting, but by no means the oddest thing she'd ever seen. He was a little wiry for her tastes, but what musculature he did have was rock hard from training. She liked sculpted bodies; bodies used to enduring rigors. It meant they could keep up with her.

His eyes told her he wanted her, but it was an uncertain sort of lust. His eyes that morning had been a very certain no. She took her eyes from him, looking into the fire for a minute. If he'd been a little more certain, or if he hadn't been so sure with his body language that morning, she'd have been working her charms like she knew only she could.

But if he wanted her...she was right there. Life was too short to pursue the uninterested.

She reached into her bag and rummaged for something she'd grabbed from the galley that morning. She didn't know if it was still there...ah, yes. She pulled the bottle of brandy out, opening it quickly and taking a swig, feeling the warm flush of alcohol flow through her body.

She held it out to him, offering. "Here. Warm you up some more."

[Tainted Bushido]

The sun had finally set for the night, leaving the only light on the beach that of the campfire. The clothes of the ronin had begun to steam, as slowly yet surely the fire went to work on drying them. The steam created a soft curtain of humidity about the fire, creating an artificially warm atmosphere. It was pleasant to say the least; however one thing was more than certain...

...things were only going to heat up from here.

The brandy couldn't be denied. He didn't know if he could offend the girl, but he had heard rumors of western customs. There was a rather particular one involving their drinks. You never turned down a free drink, never. So, when she proffered him the bottle of brandy, he took a quick swig, before he coughed hard, patting his chest lightly before shaking his head to cure his mouth of the bitter taste.

"This is harsher than Soju, and I thought I could handle anything after a night of Soju," He replied taking another swig. This one went down marginally better, no knee jerk reaction at least, though it still burned down. The problem was, it was smooth till it hit the throat, when it burned hotter than the fires of Jigoku.

"If you don't like it, that's just more for me." Siren grinned, grabbing the bottle back and drinking more. "This stuff is better than sake or grog." She offered the bottle back with a smirk.

The former Samurai gave her a wry grin before he spoke, "I may not have the tolerance for alcohol I should, but that doesn't mean I should stick to tea either..." He then took a deeper drought and smirked, managing only a small cough before handing it back to her. He looked at her before turning back to the fire, trying to hide the growing interest in her.

"I never got the fascination with tea." She took a final swig and then set the bottle down. "Mmm...best not to overdo this stuff. On an empty stomach, go straight to your head."

The ronin could even now feel a light headed fog upon his mind. He feared it was already too late for her words of wisdom, as the Samurai had no gauge of his limits. His liver had not properly pickled in liquor for quite some time now, and now he was forced to sit there lightly inebriated from the sudden increase of alcohol in his blood.

He still managed some semblance of his proper self when he spoke, "It's more of a preference. If you worry about what others think of you, you drink Tea and don't worry about acting a fool in public. If you don't care, or rather you have no reason to care, you can let go of inhibitions and drink alcohol. I don't more because it dangerous for Ronin to get drunk, though they usually do in packs."

His face took on a slightly red tinge, even when his body had stopped shaking in the cold, as a leaf upon the wind. Looking at the girl once more he let a soft smile grace his face before he managed, "You certain appear to be blessed by Benten. Have you a husband?"

[Siren]

"Husb...husband?" If Siren had been drinking at the moment Taka asked his question, she'd have probably choked on it. Instead she started laughing hard enough to double her up and send her close enough to the fire to make her hair steam. "Husband...hah!" It took her a minute to recover, and she popped the top off the brandy again, taking another drink.

"I'm sorry, Samurai B - Taka. But husband..." the word came out with another laugh. "That's the most ridiculous notion I ever heard."

To say that Siren was not the marrying sort was to understate the matter. Hers was a hedonistic existence; she took a new lover more often than she changed her shirt, she sailed the world without bothering about who or what she was leaving behind. A husband would put a stop to all that. No...she would never have a husband. Never want one either. Monogamy? That would just be excruciatingly boring.

"I'm more the 'till dawn do us part' sort than the 'till death do us part' sort." The half-mer ran her fingers through her hair, brushing it away from the perfect features of her face. "Five or six years with one person? There's so much more out there than just one."

She leaned in toward him again, much like she had to tell him how to get warmer, much like she had that afternoon by the side of the ship, only this time she reached out, gently, slowly dragging a fingernail along one of the lines on his fit form where his tainted black skin met his naturally pale complexion.

"And what about you, Taka?" Her voice became softer, huskier, and she met his grey eyes with a flirtatious green glance. Her hair framed the perfectly smooth features of her face, the silken locks blackened by the fall of night except where they were illuminated by the fire. "Did some raven-haired Akashiman beauty catch your eye and tie you down?" Not that it mattered to her if one had. But a question asked was worth returning.

[Tainted Bushido]

A soft snort of derision left his lips before he spoke, "Don't get me wrong, perhaps one day I had imagined getting married. Of course it was more from a standpoint of duty. There is seldom a marriage for love."

He shivered slightly under her touch, even as it caressed the tendrils of darkness, the stains upon his soul that had never been self inflicted. His eyes rose to hers before he spoke, "Any marriage in Akashima above that of the peasants is one of circumstance and convenience. We don't choose our spouse, rather it’s chosen for us. Marriage is more of a political tool than one of love."

He then gently caught her hand, his carefully grasping hers. Touch was something far more intimate to the Ronin, brought up in a society that any true touch was behind closed doors, never in public. To touch skin, was considered a dirty act, one not to be viewed by the public. Pregnancy was just a miracle, especially one that occurred between husband and wife, with no touching what so ever. It was rather humorous to see just how ignorant the people of Akashima could act, when they knew damn well what was going on.

Her touch however, felt far from dirty. It sent jolts of electricity through the Ronin, who could have sworn he could feel each hair that sat upon his head. He was tempted to run his hand through his hair. Still he remained focused on the beauty before him, even as the hand slid carefully up her arm, a delicate caress.

It wasn't that Taka was a virgin. No, the fact he had passed his right of passage, his gempukku meant that he was no longer a boy but a man. His friends had given him a special "gift" in the form of a night with a geisha, when he had taken his adult name. That had been awkward at first, but he wasn't the timid young man that had come before him. He had shut himself off from such intimate contact, and because of this, the allure of it was intoxicating.

A serene smile graced his lips when he spoke, "There are all sorts of things that happen in Akashima. So long as a Samurai has the discretion to keep his private affairs such, it doesn't matter what they do..." The hand reached her shoulder where it gently moved her hair off her neck. The smile widened ever so slightly before he continued, "You'd be surprised just how well versed in various duties a Samurai can...be."

[Siren]

That little hint of a touch seemed to have been the straw of temptation that broke the camel of suspicion's back. Siren echoed Taka's grin; despite the ronin's earlier hesitation, there wasn't much room to turn back now. His touch was gentler than almost any other man she'd ever slept with, a simple "let's fuck" wasn't his style, and she was happy to play along with that.

She let his caress draw her closer to him, and let him touch her neck, let him feel the steady, vital pulse beneath his thumb. She glanced down, then back up, playing demure for a moment while the firelight made dancing patterns on her skin.

She touched him again, and her firelit silver eyes followed her hand on its journey. It started at the ronin's navel, just the very tip of the nails, but as it made its way up his belly it made real contact, first with delicate fingertips trailing over firm abs, and by the time it reached his chest the whole hand had flattened out. Slowly, it made its way up his shoulder, then his neck. She ran her fingers through his hair, just letting the fingertips touch the scalp, and then looked back into his eyes.

His face had come close to hers, or hers to his. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips, could almost taste the brandy, could smell the sea salt on his skin. She traced along the curve of his jaw gently, and her lips curved into a soft smile.

"I've always liked surprises," she murmured.