C*** Drunk Love (Closed)

[Ruby]

Warning: Language and content not suitable for minors.

Prologue

Ruby Winchester was rarely intolerant. She prided herself on overcoming adversity, differing opinion, and cultural divides. Some people, however, managed to push her to her limits.

“He did what?” she snapped.

Duffy looked bashful. He had tried to put his point across for over half an hour. Ruby, as ever, was proving stubborn.

“He killed the girl anyway.”

Ruby pouted. She was not sure what she wanted to do more. Slap Duffy, or drive her sword through the tiefling’s gullet. She slapped the bard anyway.

“Ow!” Duffy cried.

The patrons of the tavern turned attentions to the duo at the centre table. Tankards stilled, wine glasses trembled, and barkeeps polished worktops gingerly.

“Was there any need?” he moaned.

The tavern fell back into its usual swing. The music, which neither had noticed before, became vibrant and jazzy.

“You let Aurelianus kill an innocent and get away scot free?” She leant across the table. Her eyes blazed with inner fire. Duffy, usually oblivious to her power, had to tremble.

He leant back. He knew too well what would happen if he challenged her when she was angry.

“I didn’t ‘let’ him.” He huffed.

“Oh?” she pressed. She folded her arms across her torso.

“Our dearest Luned neglected to mention he was that slippery.”

They continued to stare amidst the hubbub of a Scara Breen evening. They sipped their drinks in silence, the merriment of their afternoon a distant memory.

“We have to find him.” Ruby’s tone suggested this was not open for dispute.

“You say that as if he’ll come running at the first sign of trouble,” Duffy protested.

He picked up his tankard, long empty, and cursed under his breath. When he repeated his statement in his head, he realised how stupid he had been.

“That’s precisely what we’ll do...,” Ruby said excitedly.

Duffy grunted. He ran a tongue over his piercing, counted to ten, and then faced the situation.

“I’m going to regret saying that, aren’t I?”

[Ruby]

C*** Drunk Love (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPupROGv-sc)


http://www.dmfiat.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/The_Tavern.jpg



Sequel to The Prayer (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?25330-The-Prayer-(Closed)&p=210085#post210085).

Closed to Aurelianus Drak'shal.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Knife's Edge, Salvar

The pub was swamped with people.

Every colour and creed, every race and profession, all crammed together in the confines of the Wind In The Sails tavern. And, in the middle of it all, sat one cocksure tiefling, shuffling a deck of cards at a small round table.

The half-demon ran a hand idly along the shaved sides of his head, touching the newly inked tattoos running from just above where his hairline would have been, all the way back to the nape of his neck; on either side of the bloody-red crest of quills sat two hydras, inked in black, their three heads roaring at anyone gazing upon them. They were just the newest addition to an already impressive collection of tattoos gracing the warlock's alabaster flesh.

"So," snarled one particularly drunk Orc, "are you in or out?"

Aurelianus looked through the cards in his hand, keeping a blank face as he regarded the other four men sitting at the table with him. Two were humans, trying not to stare at Junior as the animated foetus clambered over its master's shoulders. One was an elf with the habit of adjusting his intricate braids of golden hair when he was bluffing. And the last was a particularly intimidating specimen of Orc, his heavy-lidded eyes hidden under thick brows, growling his words out through a forest of tattooed tusks.

"I'll see your five, and I'll raise you another seven gold," he smirked, flicking the coins into the growing pile in the middle. A small murmur went through the men - two of them had already folded, and were watching the exchange between the snake-eyed rogue and the scarred Orc. Tension was running high as the kitty reached triple-figures.

"I'm out. Too rich for my purse tonight," muttered the slender elf sitting to Aurelius' right. He laid down his cards and left the table, swearing under his breath about what his wife was going to do when she found out how much he'd lost.

"Come on, Varsa. Take him to the cleaners," one of the men urged the green-skinned Orc.

Varsa ignored the human, and laid down his hand showing his prominent tusks in a wide grin. He had four kings, a strong hand.

His gnarled tusks quickly became a feral snarl when the marble-skinned guttersnipe showed his own hand; four aces sat there, mocking the Orc warrior. His eyes narrowed when Aurelius reached out and started counting his winnings, serpentine-eyes dancing with delight at the palpable rage the green-skin was exuding.

"What's the matter, cutter? You're lookin' a little green 'round the gills," he needled, licking his fangs.

The big bastard moved quickly, tossing the table aside and catching the half-demon by the front of his shirt. Gold and alcohol went flying in all directions, but no-one in the bar moved to pick it up. Varsa had a reputation for violence, and no-one wanted to draw his attention. Most of the patrons watched on, hoping for some decent bloodshed, but the smarter ones ignored the tussle and kept drinking. Junior took to the air, hissing viciously at the one man-handling its master, flapping the crow wings stitched into its back and chittering through needle-fangs.

Usually, the trademark bladed armour Aurelius wore would have shredded the bastard's hand for his efforts, but after the shit-storm he'd caused (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?25330-The-Prayer-(Closed)) a few weeks back, the warlock insurrectionist was keeping a low profile as he continued his faction's work. Instead, he was wearing what he had dubbed his 'Anarchist garb' - his attire in this guise consisted of simple, heavy-duty clothing; mainly leather or rough-spun materials sourced from many different planes. The clothes themselves were basic, with neutral colours suitable for staying unnoticed in urban or woodland environments, but as a factotum of the Revolutionary League, he had many little tricks to change the appearance of the outfit; from removable sleeves, to a collar that unpinned to become a hood, to the the brown leather jacket that, if turned inside-out, had a different colour on the inside. These were only a few examples of the myriad tricks and trinkets Aurelius used when he needed to give himself a fairly good disguise at short notice. And so far, it had worked well at keeping his anonymity in Knife's Edge.

"You were cheating!" the Orc barked.

"So were you," came the calm reply, Aurelius' eyes shining with mirth.

Varsa growled low, spittle gathering at the corners of the hideous gash he called a mouth. "How do you know?" he demanded, shaking the half-demon slightly.

"Because that's not the 'and I dealt you, mate."

The Orc got closer, his breath rank with the cheap bub he'd been pouring down his throat all night long. "You little bastard! I ought to tear your puny little arms off and--"

"Beat me to death with 'em. Aye, 'eard that one before, mate. So unless you 'ave any better threats, I suggest you take your pikin' 'ands off me." His eyes were cold. "I'd 'ate to 'ave to make you any uglier than the Powers already 'ave."

Varsa sputtered with rage, unused to anyone displaying this level of sheer stupidity to his face. For a moment, he was unsure how to proceed. And then he quickly came to a decision.

The fist crunched into Aurelius' face, sending him sprawling into some of the gathered onlookers in a spray of black blood.

The plane-touched was shoved back to his feet, laughing through the blood flowing from his nose. He spat a mouthful of it onto the worn floorboards, smiling merrily. "Come on, tusker. I 'ope you've got more in mind for me than love taps."

Curling his hands into wrecking-ball fists, Varsa charged with a bone-shaking roar.

Chuckling at the display of fury, Aurelianus snatched a tankard from the table next to him and casually slung it at the Orc. It hit the ground in front of Varsa's boot, spilling cheap ale over the hard floor - the muscled monster didn't have time to slow down before his sole slipped out from under him. It was like watching a battering ram when he hit the table next to Aurelius, taking the wood and everyone sitting behind it to the floor in a bloody and bruised heap.

The half-breed smirked, laughing to himself as Varsa vented his fury on the first poor sod to come to hand. The warlock was distracted when someone laid hands on his shoulders, yanking him back. A vicious elbow was sent whistling back, crunching into the poor bastard's face before Aurelius turned and hammered another bar-patron across the jaw with his fist.

It took a matter of minutes before the bar was turned in to one enormous brawl, with blood, beer and fists flying pell-mell.

Dealing a swift boot to the side of some sod's knee, dropping him screaming to the floor, Aurelianus ducked out the back entrance of the bar, whistling for Junior to follow. The familiar swiftly flapped out into the narrow alley beside the Anarchist, perching on his shoulder again as he quickly modified his clothes. Satisfied, he shrugged his collar-come-hood up over his horned head, hiding his features in shadow.

It took a matter of moments, and by the time the tiefling emerged from the alley, the City Watch were just arriving on the scene. They never paid him any attention as they smashed through the front door with cudgels bared.

The half-demon whistled a merry tune to himself as he casually strolled away from the small-scale riot.

It's been a good night, he mused with a jolly grin.

[Ruby]

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Duffy said flatly. They had been in Salvar all of five minutes, and lo and behold.

“What is it?” Ruby enquired. She swilled her gin.

“Look!” Duffy said abruptly. He pointed to the shadows at the end of the road.

When they arrived in Salvar, they b-lined for the nearest inn. They sat down, ordered drinks, and plotted to entice Aurelianus into the open. When they had done, they took a stroll to compose themselves. It had been a while since either of them had partaken in Salvic vodka.

Ruby followed his finger.

“My god…,” she said softly.

The immutable outline of the man they were looking for ran past the end of the road. He ran seemingly from a crowd out of sight, but not earshot.

“It can’t be!” He rubbed his eyes.

“Don’t question it, run!” She broke into a sprint.

Duffy hobbled after her. His cane clicked against the stone. With every pained step, he grimaced. His eyes and piercings flashed silver in the sickly moonlight.

“Hold on!” he shouted feebly. The excess of alcohol in his veins drained all his strength. By the time he reached the end of the road, Ruby was long gone.

Duffy gave up. He slapped his hands on his thighs, dropped his cane with a clatter, and tried desperately to catch his breath.

“She can hold her own…,” he wheezed.

Ruby found herself at a crossroad a moment later. The thought that something was amiss crossed her mind. She straightened her back, tightened her bodice, and turned the way she came.

“What’s the hold up?” she asked. She soon realised she was alone. Her eyes lost their sparkle. Now Ruby was the one hunted.

The shadows cackled.

“He doesn’t change one bit…,” she muttered.

She took a moment to examine her surroundings. The crossroads stood at the heart of the residential district, where Denebriel’s Cathedral attendants lived in squalor. Only the buildings on the corners were grandiose, even with roofs caved in and windows smashed. The moonlight shone on a crumbling fountain.

“I know you can hear me!” she roared. “Come out; come out, wherever you are!” Her words echoed north, south, east, and west.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Aurelius had come to like this city, in his few years on Althanas. It wore misery like a shroud, everyone grim of face and bleaker of soul. Chant held that the recent civil war had torn the heart out of the country; and nowhere was that more apparent than right here in Knife's Edge. The Church of the Ethereal Sway had lost much of its power in the region, so they said, but was still tenaciously clinging to life with the skin of its teeth.

The Anarchist intended to help shuffle the sods off their mortal coils... but what he was watching right now was a possible hindrance to that notion.

What the bloody 'ell does she want? he snarled, running his black, forked tongue over his fangs in irritation.

Lurking in the shadows of one of the ruined buildings, his serpentine eyes scanned the chit standing defiantly in the middle of the delapidated square as she turned angrily this way and that. He had seen her before - back during the Lornius Corporate Challenge, he had faced off against her and her team-mate. He recalled the fight fondly, mainly because Ms. Ruby had been stark-naked at the time. It was that thought that had made the warlock burst into involuntary laughter upon seeing her.

But he held his tongue. Usually, one of the people he'd formerly tried to murder appearing fast on his heels didn't bode well. For them or for me.. well, that varies, he chuckled, drawing one of his Baatorian knives as quiet as a whisper. Junior sat on Aurelianus' shoulder, rubbing its tiny scalpel-fingers together as it sniffed the air; the abomination could sense the irritation of its master, but it didn't recognise the scent it was detecting. Turning the stitched sockets to and fro, it hissed quietly and ruffled the crow wings emerging from tiny albino shoulders. It was shushed with a raised finger from the insurrectionist.

A dark smile curled the corner of Aurelius' mouth.

In a moment, he was gone - the half-breed was making the most of his preternatural speed. Junior was sent flapping into the air in a flurry of dark feathers and pale flesh, spitting curses in the Infernal tongue.

Climbing higher, it rose from the ruins of the building, using whatever unnatural senses the maniacal warlock had gifted it.. there!

Ruby whirled on the spot once more, sensing again that lascivious gaze roaming her supple frame. It felt.. violating.

Perched casually on the pedestal in the middle of the fountain was Aurelianus Drak'shal in all his loathsome glory. He kept his knife held loosely in one hand, dangling between his legs as he crouched atop the stone pillar. His other hand rested on his knee as he habitually licked his sharp fangs. He cocked his shaved head, quill-mohawk barely moving, regarding Ruby calmly from his perch. There was the briefest flutter of movement as Junior landed on its usual spot on its father, latching on to the scuffed leather of the jacket he wore.

"Long time no see, luv," he smiled amiably. "Though I remember seein' more of you last time," he added with a cheeky wink. "What can I do you for this fine evenin'?"

[Ruby]

“Aurelianus…,” she seethed. She was at wit’s end. He had taunted her to breaking point. The dark made matters worse. “We have business to attend to.”

The tiefling cocked his head and chuckled.

“Oh aye?”

“You had your chance to ‘pluck’ me on. Like most men,” she folded her arms across her chest, “you squandered that opportunity.”

“Oh,” he leapt. Junior leapt with him. “I don’t want to pluck you.” His boots slammed onto the cobbles. “It’s too late in the evening for foreplay,” he said with a wink. Ruby shuddered. “What are you really ‘ere for?” Junior returned to his shoulder.

Ruby dropped her arms to her side. Aurelianus thrived on odious remarks and uncivil wit to get his way. She would not fall foul of that. Not again. She did not need armour to shield herself from the likes of ‘Iharkav’.

“Salvar,” she said sullen. She glared, eyes narrowed into accusatory orbs. She waited to see what he had to say for himself.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

The half-breed sneered, first at the use of his real name, then more at the mention of the ride back East of where he stood now.

He allowed his Hellspawn gaze to scan the shadows, trying to mark any other sod hiding. He couldn't see, smell or hear anyone else nearby. But that didn't bring the peery tiefling any closer to relaxing. Keeping his knife held loosely, the green-steel catching the sparse light of the square, he fished inside the leather jacket. With a happy little grin he produced a cigarette, clamping it between his lips and lighting it with a puff of Hellfire.

The Cager bristled at the tone the chit used, meeting her glare with one of his own. Junior, sensing the tension, let out a sound somewhere between a shriek and a whisper.

"Aye, that's where we are," he smirked. "Nothin' gets past you luv."

Ruby continued to glare at him, not taking the bait, and obviously not appreciating the tiefling's sense of humour. Blowing twin streams of smoke from his nostrils, the malcontent sighed and shook his head in exasperation. What is it with this place? Does it breed these miserable leather'eads or what? He strolled casually - not using his unnatural speed - through the knee-deep pool of water left in the fountain, small critters in the water darting away from the bow-wave he was making. With a small hop and a splash, he cleared the lip of the fountain and stopped directly in front of the spellsinger.

"What about it?" Aurelius asked, genuinely curious.

Of course, the idea that anyone could have a moral objection to his actions never once crossed the planewalker's mind - he had been given a goal and had achieved it, regardless of the obstacles thrown his way. Hells, he had bled to succeed in that bastard of a job; his left arm was still pained from where a stray crossbow bolt had impaled the bone and the hole left in his shoulder by a demon-spawn's bone-spike had only just healed up. Aye, he mused with a wry grin, it was a bloody good ride.

"I penned the witch-'unters in the dead-book. What's the pikin' problem?" he snarled, his tongue once again running over his fangs as he let more smoke coil from his mouth.

His good mood was quickly disappearing.

[Ruby]

“The problem is, ‘cutter’, you also killed that girl.”

He likely saw her as collateral. A mistake, perhaps, but not one to dwell on for long. He and his pet made quote the duo, and Ruby struggled to remain angry with them for long. They had a perverse charisma that made her teeter between friendly and violent.

“Pffft, innocent.”

“She did not deserve to die!”

“Who does, luv? If it wasn't for me killin' 'er, your boy Duffy would be a deader instead.”

Silence descended over the fountain square. The moon began to rise, its pearl light dancing over the murky cityscape. Wisps of smoke continued to curl and unfurl away from the tiefling, and fire continued to dance in Ruby’s sullen eyes.

“You have a choice,” Ruby trailed off. She unsheathed her blade. “You can either pay for the crime in a courthouse.” She doubted he recognised any authority other than his own.

“Or?” he asked. He sniggered at the mention of a court. He unsheathed an abyssal knife and loosed hell-fire along its blade.

“You pay through me,” she said sternly. She levelled her blade to his strange companion. It twitched. Aurelianus snarled. “I’m ‘‘appy’ to wipe that smirk off your face any which way.”

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

The tiefling swallowed the Hellfire back down with an effort, and ran his black tongue across his fangs angrily, snake-like eyes never blinking, never once straying from the arrogant bitch in front of him.

What the pikin' 'ell does she know? She wasn't bloody there!

His knuckles cracked as his grip around the Baatorian knife tightened, the blade quivering with Aurelius' barely suppressed rage. He didn't like people telling him what to do; that much was obvious for anyone who'd ever met the Anarchist. But to give him free reign on a ride, and then to try and punish him for getting the job done!? His blood was roaring in his black veins, standing out in stark contrast to his alabaster flesh.

Junior hissed malevolently at the leveled blade, the sutured sockets of its eyes locked on to Ruby. It couldn't "see", in the conventional sense, but the familiar still knew it was being threatened. The sable pinions on its tiny albino back flapped furiously.

Aurelianus was dangerously quiet for a minute, not moving a muscle as he glared at the spellsinger over her extended sword. Water dripped from the edges of his clothing in a steady staccato rhythm.

"So," he started, voice strained with fury, "you think you've got what it takes to bring me down?" The half-demon took a few deep breaths, the corner of his right eye twitching almost imperceptibly. He started pacing on the spot, his gaze never wandering from his soon-to-be opponent.

But, he forced himself to calm. If he wanted to gut the smug chit, he had to keep his wits about him.

His trademark smirk returned slowly, fangs glinting in the moonlight. He nodded gently, almost to himself, thoughts tumbling around his brain-box in rapid succession. His green-steel knife twirled over his fingers in a flourish, as Aurelius evidently came to a decision that pleased him.

"I'll tell you what, luv," he smiled, inhuman eyes dancing with amusement, "if you can beat me, I'll 'and m'self in to the 'proper authorities' as quick as you please". The warlock spat to clear his mouth, the words disgusting him like his actions disgusted others. Aurelius was still pacing, his posture becoming more relaxed, his viciously serrated knife held loosely down by his side. His free hand ran over the shaved sides of his head - it was becoming a habit for him now, touching the three-headed hydras inked along his skull.

"The law-dogs in Corone are barkin' for me 'ead as it is." The delicious memory of why (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?25156-Gaolhouse-Rock-(closed)) sent a shiver up the Anarchist's spine.

Ruby hesitated, obviously canny enough not to trust the tiefling. She kept her sword trained on the malcontent.

Drak'shal rounded on her suddenly, a wide, razor-edged grin splitting his white face. The half-breed leaned in closer to her, resting a fingertip against the tip of Ruby's sword - a small bead of black blood welled up around the tiny hole, running down the plane-touched's finger to disappear under the edge of the fingerless leather gloves encasing his hands.

"But if I win," he hissed sibilantly, his eyes finally leaving the chit's own to wander lasciviously over her body, "then you owe me a favour. I'll come to you, at some point soon, and ask you for somethin'- your 'elp, your money, your blood- and whatever I ask you for, you'll pay the music and give me it. No questions, no declinin', no trying to 'ide from me."

Aurelianus took his finger off the end of the sword, holding it up for Junior to lap at the inky blood with its tiny tongue. The warlock ran his forked tongue over his fangs again. He twirled the Baatorian knife in his hand slowly, the green-steel of the blade catching the odd flicker of light.

"We 'ave a deal?"

[Ruby]

“You’re in no position to barter.” Her tone was malefic enough to invocate the hells. “On this one occasion,” she jabbed a finger, “I’ll give you a chance.” She held every confidence she could beat him.

“A chance?” Aurelianus appeared to like the sound of that. He continued to smile. He continued to exude arrogance. He continued to make every inch of Ruby Winchester’s skin crawl.

“It comes with an amendment to the wager.” She was not going to let it swing that heavily in his favour. After all, marching into a sheriff’s office did not mean he would then stay there. On the other hand, she was no fool. She could promise a favour for eternity. She never had to fulfil it.

“You do want to let me skewer ya?” His eyes gleefully widened.

“No,” she said flatly. He wished. “If I best you, you come work for me. If you best me, I know a lovely woman who could show you a thing or two, and we forget this happened.”

Aurelianus narrowed his cruel eyes at her, and for once, he looked at her face, and not her chest.

“That it?”

“If you’re game, I am.” It was Ruby’s turn to smile now the gin was out of her system, burnt to vapour by adrenaline.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Aurelius silently considered Ruby's amendments, not really caring for her tone. But, his dark smile never left his face once.

Aye, I'll show 'er another world. Bitch never said nothin' about bringin' 'er back, he thought with an inward chuckle. His mohawk rattled quietly as an icy breeze stirred the bloody-red quills, and carried away another stream of smoke from the tiefling's mouth.

He looked around the debris-riddled square, completely oblivious to the beauty of the moonlight shimmering gently on the waves in the small fountain. He was keeping his ears parked for any sign of pursuing guards, his senses picking up sounds of the riot he had started spilling out onto the streets. He could also hear the guards trying to instill order, and the clash of improvised weapons hammering against their shields.

Time to get the 'ell out of 'ere, he surmised. The warlock shooed the familiar from his shoulder with a small wave of his hand, sheathing the knife at the small of his back again - if the chit tried to play dirty, Aurelius knew he was quick enough to get his blade back out in a heartbeat. Junior kept close, lazy flaps of his crow wings holding him aloft with barely any effort; the little monster kept its sutured eyes on the woman, not liking the way she smelled. She meant its master harm, the foetus could tell. The half-demon turned his eyes down to his attire though, realising his anarchist garb was not exactly suited to a fight with the spellsinger before him.

"Tell you what, luv," he said cheerily, clapping his hands before him, "I'll do you a good turn, seein' as I'm in a good mood."

He nodded back towards the shadows he'd first lurked in when he realised Ruby was chasing him. "You let me get my proper gear on, and I'll show you another world for free. After that, we'll go with your deal, if only to indulge my curiosity."

His smile could cut glass.

Ruby, while clearly only barely managing to hold back her impulses to gut the fiend, would not risk her victory being diminished by the tiefling claiming she hadn't played fair.

"Get on with it!" she snapped, pointing her sword at him yet again.

"tsk tsk," Aurelius smirked, strolling away to the hidey-hole where he'd stashed his gear, "anyone'd think you didn't like me, luv."

***

Ten minutes later, Aurelius was back in his trademark attire; his battered leather coat trailed down to his knees, the dozens of straps and buckles jingling in the breeze stirring the Salvaran night; under this was his unique, bladed and barbed leather armour, every black plate and strap covered in a dizzying array of hooks, blades, and spikes. His weapons, too, were back in their usual places - Baatorian blades at the small of his back, Herzaa's blade hanging from a leather cord at his waist, his heavy cleaver strapped to the warlock's right shin and under his left arm sat the holster of serrated shurikens.

In short, he was as ready as he was ever going to be.

The half-breed stretched his neck, eliciting audible cracks as he loosened up for the fight to come. He nodded to Ruby as he re-emerged from where he'd changed (though he hadn't hidden himself away when he changed, really - the guttersnipe had never been shy about his body), and waved her toward a fallen archway leading out of the small crossroads they currently inhabited. Junior flapped behind them, the tiny, winged foetus snapping malevolently at the back of Ruby.

All the while, the planewalker was flipping through a small, leather-bound book (at least, it looked like leather), muttering away to himself as he pored over page after page of his spidery hand-writing. The malcontent stopped before the crumbling stone arch, looking up from his book finally with a small grunt of triumph.

"Alrighty then," he said quietly, glancing to the slender chit next to him. She was practically vibrating with the need to hurt her opponent. Ain't she the little flatterer, he thought with a chuckle to himself. With one last check, Drak'shal tucked the notebook away inside his coat and turned his attention fully to the arch. With as much concentration as he could bring to bear, the warlock whistled an odd, lilting tune.

Almost instantly, an ethereal blue glow swirled to life inside the confines of the stone, moving slowly like a whirlpool in treacle. He raised his eyebrow at Ruby, the obsidian rings glinting in the sharp moonlight. He waved her towards the now active astral conduit.

"As if," she sneered, glaring at Aurelius. "You go first."

"Fine," he chirped, his lips turned up in a wry grin. "'ave it your way, luv. It's perfectly safe," he added, strolling toward the portal. He decided not to mention the first time he'd stumbled across this gate, he'd been blind drunk and accidentally whistled the tune that acted as its key, and he deigned to leave out where the portal would take them...

Without a backward glance, the planewalker stepped through the arch, instantly disappearing from the Salvar, and Althanas itself--

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

And stepped out onto a small plateau overlooking what was about to be the battlefield.

His boots kicked up small clouds of hot ash as he turned to watch Ruby emerge from the portal a moment after him, ignoring the scouring heat of the wind and the sulphurous reek it carried with it. He was pleased to see she wasn't suffering too badly from her first trip through a conduit. He spread his arms wide, charms and talismans tinkling softly against the omnipresent background roar, pacing back a few steps as he gestured to their surroundings.

"Welcome," he proclaimed proudly, "to Gehenna!"

http://i636.photobucket.com/albums/uu84/Anarchist147/crop_zpsfb16e158.jpg (http://s636.photobucket.com/user/Anarchist147/media/crop_zpsfb16e158.jpg.html)

[Ruby]

Ruby Winchester was born of fire, and tempered by hatred. When she set eyes on the other world, she was surprised the tiefling could be so oblivious, stupid, and dumb. She smirked, and stared him dead on.

“Feels like home,” she rasped.

Before he could register the lack of horror, disgust, and amazement on his hunter’s face, Ruby lurched. Her body, taught beneath draconic fabric, rippled and pulsed. The muscles even Ruby did not know she had worked to connect the tip of her blade with the tip of the tiefling’s knife.

“Don’t you know,” she grunted. She ducked, tapped the knife up, and trusted at his groin. He stepped to the side out of harm’s way. “It’s polite to offer your guest some tea?”

Somehow, Ruby doubted Aurelianus was going to break out the china. He bore down on her with a fist. His glove tightened over blackened skin as it struck her collarbone. Ruby fell to her knees, winded and defenceless.

"I've got your drink right ‘ere," he retorted, grabbing his crotch lewdly.

The thought alone made her hurl. The pain down her right side acted as a distraction.

“I’ll politely,” she snarled, “decline.” His cackle danced out across the acrid wasteland. Where words met warping hellfire, new languages formed gibbering arias.

Gehenna welcomed the duo with another thunderous explosion. To the east, the jagged peaks, needles of stone, shuddered. To the west, ash continued to fall in roiling waterfalls from sulphur clouds.

“Shame,” he clucked. He made to strike downwards with his blade, but found the woman quicker than he gave her credit.

Ever the survivor, Ruby Winchester melted to her left. She picked up Lucrezia, the only other woman in her life save her sister, and stood upright with quicksilver speed.

“How about biscuits?” she half-sang.

Aurelianus wheeled about. They stared at one another for an awkward moment.

“Err, what the pikin' hells is a biscuit?” he erred.

As volcanic eruptions rocked the plane, a tremor of another sort rose through the tiefling. The excitement of the unknown, and a new conquest for his bedpost. He had lost count of the races he had bedded.

“What are you luv’?” he roared. They clashed blades.

Ruby leant in over their crossed blades. She stared, eyes ablaze, into the tiefling’s umbrae pupils.

“Before you invite an enemy to your home…,” she clucked. Her feet began to skid over the volcanic rock, her strength lacklustre against his resisting push. “Check she’s not a Phoenix, ready to roost in its blasted hearth.”

She stepped back. She burst into fire, song, and melody. Lapping up the ambiance, Ruby channelled it into a single, calamitous downward arc. Aurelianus would finally know what it felt like to feel split in two by a woman, and not the other way around.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

The ever-present roar of Gehenna's unstable volcanic islands drummed inside the tiefling's skull, making the back of his eyes itch with the constant vibrations of seismic activity. His ears rang with the roars and cracking of magma forming new rock as it cooled, only for it to be melted by the next flow of lava to storm down the sides of the myriad volcanoes.

Even as he ducked back from the crossing of blades with Ruby, Aurelianus had to side-step a spurt of sulphurous steam from a fumarole, throwing his arm before his face to protect from the scalding spray. He shook the hissing droplets from the sleeve of his coat as he watched his opponent, circling slowly to and fro; partially to keep Ms. Winchester on her toes, but also to prevent the soles of his boots burning too badly on the scorching rock of their little plateau. They were somewhere, he surmised, about halfway up one of the slightly less active volcanoes. He tumbled to this conclusion simply because they had not yet been consumed by incessant streams of lava and pyroclastic clouds. This plane was definitely not friendly to Clueless rubes like Ruby Winchester.

Then again, it was not particularly pleasant even for an experienced planewalker familiar with the land.

It had been a while since he had been brave or stupid enough to traverse the flaming slopes of the Fourfold Fires, but he was dismayed to see the chit before him seemed more than comfortable here. He cursed himself for a berk as she burst into song, remembering the brief demonstration he'd had of her magic back on Lornius - fire magic. The warlock's face dropped a fraction as he realised his own mistake. Aye, bring the fire-witch dollymop to pikin' Gehenna of all places! You're a canny sod, ain't you? He silenced the niggling voice with another shake of his quilled head. The movement unleashed a small shower of sweat from his brow. The omnipresent heat of the plane was making itself known, and his body was slick beneath the leather covering it. Even the plane-touched's piercings were itchy as the temperature rose.

He saw Ruby's attack coming a moment before the woman launched herself at him, her movements betraying her intent too much for someone who'd spent his life killing to avoid being killed. Even so, he barely had time to throw himself to one side, hitting the smoking, heat-blasted ground and rolling back to his feet. The half-demon spat, clearing his lips of the clinging ash and soot that drifted through the air and dusted the ground like foul snow, his serpentine eyes locked on Ruby as she slid her sword clear of the furrow it had cleaved in the rocky ground.

Bet you're bloody glad that didn't get you, the voice needled, but Aurelius ignored it. He was too preoccupied on figuring out how best to deal with this new spin on things, without being impaled or melted.

The tiefling didn't give the cocky spellsinger the chance to follow up on her offensive. With a snarl, the plane-touched warlock hurled himself at the chit, his twin blades dancing out in a vicious double-swipe; his right hand blade came down at an angle to rake across her ample chest, followed almost instantly by a gutting swipe from the serrated blade in his left.

The Baatorian green-steel shone with reflected light as they sped to rend the bitch's flesh.

[Ruby]

The first cut through Ruby’s guard, but not her dress. The second pierced her hauberk, skin, and gullet with ease. She had designed her attire for comfort, beauty, and adaptability, not outright defence. She whelped.

“I…,” she whispered. Blood spluttered through her porcelain white teeth, and she stumbled backwards.

Pleasure formed on Aurelianus’ face. Displeasure formed on Ruby’s, a stark contrast mirrored in mutually angered expressions. The torrent of fire that rushed up behind the spell singer was as symbolical as it was pathetic, fallacy bridling the woman’s pain with dramatics and damnation.

“Is that…,” she stumbled back, black heels jabbing black rock. “All you’ve got?”

Apparently, Ruby was not inclined to hang about and find out. She spread out her hands, dispelled Lucrezia, and looked skyward. Her eyes, saddened by the rising pain in her gullet, and dimmed by the dying of the light, traced the swathes of colour above. Red, gold, and blasted bronze swirled in the clouds. The distant eruptions became pallid, monotonous tones.

“Disappointing…”

She fell over the edge of the cliff and vanished from Aurelianus’ view. A thin stream of blood trailed after her, and a solitary, minor key chord.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

The harsh, mocking laughter was drowned out by the roaring of the elemental fury of Gehenna.

Aurelius, sweat cutting clear channels through the ash and soot marring his skin, relaxed a fraction as he wandered closer to the edge of the rocky plateau, idly wiping his knife clean against the side of his coat. The blood was already starting to burn a little in the heat and the half-demon's senses swam with the heady scent of copper and flames. There was a nagging sensation at the back of his skull; it was warning him that the girl had went down too easy, that he better keep a peery eye on his back no matter how assured he was of victory.

He sheathed one of the serrated blades under his coat, at the small of his back, before wiping his hand across his brow. He saw the amount of moisture on the leather of his glove before it too sizzled away. The temperature was rising. That meant only one thing.

It was time to leave.

The tiefling leaned out over the edge of the sheer drop before dropping to a knee, letting his eyes wander for any sign of Ruby - not that he expected anything, of course. The drop led straight down to the deceptively slow-looking streams of molten rock worming their way down to the base of the volcano, where they dropped off into the complete nothingness that floated between each of the four monumental and volatile mountains. If there had been any trace of the chit's body, it was less than ash now. Too bad, he mused, flicking the sweat from his eyes with a shake of his head. Can't claim my prize from a deader. Turning his eyes away from the painful glare of the lava and the fruitless attempts to see where the witch's corpse had landed, he let his gaze roam over the plane. Each of the other mountains floated out there, visible to the naked eye as they spewed their impotent rage into an eternal void. It was primal, raw.. beautiful.

The tiefling shook himself out of his reverie as his many piercings started to sting faintly. There was only so long one could wander unprotected in the harsh environment before it claimed you. And he had already banged around there too long. C'mon, arse in gear and back through the conduit, he chastised himself, standing back up and making his way over to the small obsidian archway that marked the exit. Again he had to side-step a venting of scalding steam through a crack in the rock underfoot, the rotten egg reek of sulphur stinging his nose. No, this place was certainly not for tourists.

His ears were ringing with the sheer volume of the land, and his skin was prickling in a none-too-pleasant manner. All in all, Aurelius was about ready to be done with the place, and get back to Knife's Edge for a cold bloody drink.

Beads of sweat trickled down his back leaving itchy trails down his tattooed spine, and after a few moments, the prickly sensation became unbearable; muttering to himself, the tiefling yanked his coat off in a vain attempt to cool himself down. It was useless, however, and if anything, the heat touching his bare skin was worse. But, he wasn't intending to stick around any longer than he had to. Slinging the heavy leather duster over one shoulder, the plane-touched pursed his dry lips and tried to whistle the tune that unlocked the way back to Althanas. It took three attempts and a lot of licking his lips before he even managed to start.

[Ruby]

“Stop, collaborate and listen, this is my world so stop and…,” Ruby’s song trailed off, its magic fulfilled, her purpose clear.

The second she had fallen, she opened her lips. The words sung softly, inaudible in the riotous climate, but held all their usual temperate power. Each note gave her levity. Each chorus gave her grace. Each beat of her heart gave it rhetoric.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she spat.

Ruby had plummeted into the lava flow. The death was quick, painful, and sudden. It had been her intention. It had given her power. It had restored her ageing body to a past life. The moment Aurelianus turned; he let down his guard.

“Oh…it’s a shame you’re married luv,” he trilled.

“I think it’s a shame you’re not.” Her voice held otherworldly sway, as though five people talked, and not one.

Aurelianus cocked his head. He spiralled his blades in his hands and danced from toe to toe. He was disappointed by her fall, but now, he was back in the mood for a fight.

Ruby Winchester, the late Mrs Winchester, was more youthful and threatening in her current state. Her hair returned to its hazel colour, cut to the shoulder, with a cute bob. Her ageing body replaced with the very same form she took five centuries ago. Her dress, leather and red silk, bound in care and hirsute trim, symbolised her place in the pantheon of characters that made up the Forgotten One Oblivion’s memories.

“Now…where were we?” he mused. He made to step forwards.

Ruby, tired of her own games, held up a finger to her supple lips. She hushed him to silence, the lingering magic of her providence still potent enough to command his weak willed mind. She stood legs apart, unarmed, and unarmoured. Despite that, she was holding all the swords, and bound in armour hard as black iron.

“I promised you I would agree to your terms, but you are beat. The punishment, as promised, is press-ganging into our worthy endeavour.”

The mention of the word punishment brought a smile to the tiefling’s face, who only continued to grin, not worry, in the face of her chastisement. He rolled his neck.

“Promise, it better be a promise cutter!” he snarled. He started to doubt they applied the same meaning to the word punishment.

“Shut. Up,” she roared. Flames lingering around her form glowed, erupted, and faded. Her rebirth was complete. Born anew, the Old God named Phoenix stood before her quarry, entirely unafraid anymore. “You will atone for your deeds by servicing a ‘greater good’ - Chronicle.”

Aurelianus frowned. He had heard whispers of that name in the ether, on chit’s lips and braggarts dying moans. Somehow, he was not altogether surprised that she, and he, the limping oath were behind it.

“I will?” he clucked. Quills shuffled, eyes narrowed.

Ruby smiled. She clicked her fingers. Gehenna vanished and they were back in the bitter cold of Knife’s Edge. Duffy appeared behind her, gasping for breath, as though they had been apart seconds, not hours.

“You can count on it,” she said, without reservation.

Duffy set his cane before his frail form, and leant on it for comfort. With sweaty palms, and a beading brow, he glared at the tiefling.

“Whatever happened before, Aurelianus, it has to stop…,” he wheezed. Ruby rolled her eyes.

“Work for us, or we’ll see just how long you can last.” She glared. “I can go all fucking night.”

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

"Aye, so the lads all tell me, luv," he sniggered.

Just like that, the infernal heat was gone and once again Aurelianus found himself standing in Salvar's icy embrace. He snapped his gaze around him, trying to mark what had just happened, but when he recognised the surroundings, he relaxed a fraction. The sweat beading his brow instantly cooled, almost freezing on his glossy horns. Shivering slightly as the cold worked up his spine, the tiefling shrugged his heavy coat back on, letting his eyes flicker between Duffy and the rejuvenated Ms. Winchester.

Bitch 'as a few tricks up her sleeves, he mused, running his tongue across his fangs repeatedly, trying to put some order to the storm of thoughts screaming through his brain-box. But tryin' to pass judgement on me? Well, that just shows she ain't the brightest. He wasn't going to let her display of power unsettle him.

The malcontent half-breed turned his attention away from the witch and looked over the pitiful form of Duffy, trying to catch his breath, a scarlet stain blooming from his shin. He wasn't surprised to see the bard here, but he wasn't happy about it either. His presence meant only one thing; he had turned stag on Aurelius, despite the fact the tiefling had risked his own life to save the bard's. Well, that's not strictly true, is it mate? You killed the chit to save yourself. The berk 'ere just 'appened to be collateral. The warlock ignored the voice, too busy trying to keep his fury at being betrayed under control.

"You were there, cutter. You saw what that little chit turned into." He paused, sliding his remaining knife away again, freeing up his hands to summon his invocations should it become necessary. But neither had moved to attack him yet, so he stayed his hand for the moment, idly curling and uncurling his fingers to ward off the biting chill. "Tell me, 'onestly mate, if I 'adn't penned 'er in the dead-book, you think we'd 'ave killed that spawn without without one of us joinin' 'er?"

There was a still moment as Aurelius awaited an answer, only disturbed by the gentle lapping of the water in the fountain, stirred by the chilly breeze. A cloud passed in front of the luminous moon above, casting the small square into shadow; the only lights were the shining yellow of the plane-touched's eyes, and the slight warping heat-haze clinging to Ruby.

A small, pale shape flittered out of the shadows, swooping over Ruby's head with the clapping of fast-working wings, to land softly on the half-demon's shoulder. Junior, getting better purchase by digging its steel talons into the coat, hissed in his ear and nuzzled its malformed little features against the heat still radiating from Aurelius' skin. He returned the gesture affectionately, before he allowed his attention to return to the pair of arrogant bastards before him, keeping his ears parked for signs of anyone else in the area - he hadn't forgotten the riot he'd started, and the Anarchist still fully expected the guards to come down on him at any moment. But any thought of the law-dogs was burned from his head instantly as the bitch opened her mouth again, destroying any possible chance of the Anarchist's acquiescence.

A vicious snarl tore across his face at Ruby's demands, ripping through any attempts at concealing his thoughts from the rubes.

"Slavery? Slavery!? You think I'll willingly sign my pikin' life away to serve you wankers as a good little whippin' boy? And for what? Doin' what was necessary? Doin' what 'e didn't have the balls to do" he spat at the red-haired chit's feet, and stabbed a finger in Duffy's direction. "Aye, you're both so moral and bloody righteous, ain't you? Well, bollocks t'you both! 'Conscience' is just another word for 'cowardice' as far as I'm concerned, so take your petty judgements, take your soddin' morality, and get out of my pikin' sight."

As his choler had risen, tongues of black Hellfire could be seen building at the back of his throat, aching to be unleashed in an unholy conflagration.

"Or do you really think you can threaten and force me?"

The tiefling curled his hands into fists with more force than was strictly necessary, audible cracks barking out from his knuckles, his quilled head whipping back and forth between the pair before him. The hydras inked across his scalp glared at them as much as Drak'shal himself did, his inhuman eyes narrowed bitterly. Junior opened its dead mouth wide, shrieking at the two bodies enraging its master so, stitched eye-sockets managing to throw daggers at them.

"We 'ad a deal, bitch. And you ain't beat me yet," he hissed, fangs gritted, tongues of Hellfire licking from between them.

[Ruby]

“I think it’s fair to say presuming that is your second mistake,” Ruby said stolidly. She did not flinch. She did not falter. She did not stray from her path. She had gambled following Aurelianus, but it paid off.

“Second?”

“The first was assuming this is about morals.”

The scorching rises and lava flows burnt brighter for a few moments. The tiefling stared at Ruby, her own eyes as radiant as Gehenna, and then at Duffy. His pupils were sorrow filled, grey, and cold. The dynamism and cohesion between the two did not match their appearance.

“What’s it pikin’ about, then?” he asked. He grow increasingly unsure about the outcome of his good will hunting.

“You still don’t see?” Duffy cried. He moved a few steps forwards.

“All I see is you wankers.”

“It’s about grace, form, and function,” the bard shouted.

“They’re three things I ain’t got, or don’t need to waste my spit on.”

“We need you, Aurelianus Drak’Shal. That’s the cut and thrust of it.”

“Oh, finally, a woman admits it,” he grinned.

“We need your particularskill set,” Duffy corrected seething. He was becoming very frustrated, and his skittish emotions began to show.

“You can get those in any backstreet brothel!”

“To the courthouse with you,” Ruby barked. This, naturally, would result in death. “Or, the alternative; work with us. Put your anarchism to use, and maybe…” She trailed off.

“Even people like Luned might start to like you,” Duffy continued. His voice was full of whimper.

“Any other alternatives?” Aurelianus chirped. He flickered away his flame and let Junior scramble beneath his coat tails.

Ruby answered with a flick of the wrist. In a wreath of white light, Lucrezia appeared in her palm, blade aimed for the neck. She held it at arm’s length and bent at the knees.

“You get to test just how immortal I really am,” she snarled.

Her hair burst into flame. Blood red feathers formed amidst the lengths. A single, crowning plume adorned her brow. Duffy unsheathed the sword from his cane, its ring harmonised with her singular, preparatory falsetto note.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

"I like that offer, luv, and you do know 'ow to sweet-talk me," he chuckled sarcastically, "but temptin' as it is to spend the rest of my natural span pennin' you in the dead-book every day, I'll 'ave to decline."

The tiefling shook his head softly, quilled crest swaying slightly in the breeze, and coils of steam rose as the former heat of Gehenna boiled away in the icy air of Salvar. These two just weren't getting it. Pay for my crime by Salvar's laws? Aye, that'll be the pikin' day, he thought with a barely contained growl, taking his cigarette case out from within his coat. It always irked Aurelius; whenever he did someone a good turn, they were either too bloody ignorant to notice it, or were too bogged down by blind obedience to "The Law" to appreciate it. Stupidity and willful slavery. The very concepts were anathema to him. A sardonic sneer twisted the corner of his lip as he regarded the sorry sods.

He blatantly ignored Duffy and the witch assuming battle-ready postures, and took one of the roll-ups between his fingers before tucking the ornate case away again carefully, to avoid the myriad blades and barbs on his armour. His serpentine eyes flicked up to the tip of Ruby's sword, but it didn't concern him. He was busy thinking, but even with the obvious magicks she was capable of pulling out of her arse, Aurelianus doubted she was fast enough to catch him off guard. Thoughts racing through his head, the warlock let a tiny spark of Hellfire collect on the tip of his forked tongue, touching it to the cigarette to light it. A bloom of blue-grey smoke blossomed in the frigid air alongside the condensing breath of the trio.

"So, you got little Luned in on your game?" he asked, his interest peaked. Setting the hand-rolled smoke between tight lips, the half-demon tucked his hands in his pockets, completely unperturbed by the weapons drawn, or the displays of power he'd been treated to this night.

Still, he was mildly impressed by Ruby's sudden transformation, and his lascivious nature meant he couldn't resist letting his eyes wander over her body. His black tongue slid over his fangs as he allowed him self a moment's fantasy before he placed the cigarette back in his mouth. Twin snakes of smoke slithered from his nostrils, climbing into the air before dissipating in the pale moonlight. But his thoughts turned once more to the mention of Luned: It had been a while now since he had last seen the little scribe, and she had blasted him clean through a brick wall on that occasion. He owed her a world of hurt, of course, but he was more intrigued by where she'd come upon power like that.

Plans formed and reformed behind the guttersnipe's eyes, and a smirk spread slowly over his visage. The grin was an ugly thing - all sharp edges, and dark desires. But not anywhere near as ugly as the little abomination that scampered up from under the coat to glare at Ruby and Duffy again; that in itself was a feat, considering the lack of eyes, but Junior still radiated pure hatred from its pale, malformed body. The hideous little monster slid up around Aurelius' neck, peering round at the two creatures threatening its master. But the tiefling ran a soothing finger over Junior's head, whisper-hissing softly to him in the Infernal tongue, calming the tiny familiar's ire. It chittered a reply and buried its face into the hand, tiny tongue lapping at the scorched, dry leather of the warlock's fingerless gloves.

Sucking in another lungful of smoke, the arrogant half-demon finally brought his attention back to the pair of self-righteous tossers, still waiting for him to make the first move.

Sorry to disappoint you...

"Well, you poor bastards must be pretty bloody desperate to try and enlist me," he smiled viciously. "But, I seem to recall bein' 'ired to 'elp cause some mayhem not far from 'ere, and look where that got me."

He held up a hand to ward off the inevitable witty retort or outburst, exhaling another stream of smoke into the wind as he glared at Duffy.

"What you want, you two-faced whoresons, is a scape-goat - someone to pin things on, and someone to swing from the leafless tree so you can keep your nice, manicured 'ands squeaky clean."

Aurelius' inhuman eyes narrowed, but the nasty grin never left his face.

"But you're offerin' me the chance to cause some 'avoc, so who am I to argue."

Not to mention neither of you addle-coves are canny enough to outsmart me.

The warlock took his hands from his pockets, taking the cigarette between two fingers as he ran his other hand over the shaved sides of his head.

"You 'ave a deal," he said softly, extending his hand toward whichever of them was brave enough to take it. Duffy, wary, stepped forward and shook with the Anarchist as he clamped the smoking roll-up back into his mouth.

"I'll 'elp your 'Chronicle', do what needs to be done, and in return, no more of your preachin' bollocks, no more judgements, an' definitely no more whinin' to me about "laws". Agreed?"

Duffy glanced at Ruby before nodding, "Agreed."

"Good. Oh, and before I forget," Aurelius added.

Duffy never saw the fist coming until it crunched into his nose, staggering the bard back to fall on the snow-dusted cobbles.

"Aaaaah, that made me feel a whole lot better," the tiefling smirked.

[Ruby]

Ruby discarded Lucrezia into the ether. She looked down at the ground. Instead of supporting her friend, she burst into laughter. She would never admit how much enjoyment she got seeing him brought down a peg.

“You know, despite you being a perverted and insidious individual, you ain’t half bad.”

“Thanks luv,” the tiefling said. Even Junior, who relented in his haunting of the bard, looked promisingly at the matriarch.

“Don’t get comfortable with th-” she began, but Duffy cut her short.

“-you bloke my noose!” he whelped.

Ruby rolled her eyes, and finally turned to help him up. She held out her hand, half-yanked him to his feet, and sidestepped the trail of blood that fell in his rise. It left a line down his left cheek and a pool on the city streets.

“I’ll break something more precious than your nose if you don’t stop moaning,” she snapped. Her scalding did not help the bard’s ego, or his mood. For a brief moment, he almost cried.

“What’s 'is game?” Aurelianus said with disgust.

Ruby had to wonder herself. She stepped close to Duffy, rested her hands on his shoulders, and caught his gaze so he had to look at her. Instantly, she recognised a loneliness and suffering she had almost forgotten he dwelt in day in, and day out. She frowned.

“Let’s just say he’s had a rough week,” was her natural reply.

Duffy gave her a curt nod, and bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from tearing up. It would not help the rising agony in his shin, his bleeding nose, or the continued presence of the Tap in his body. Only in the heat of pursuit, the madness of purpose, could he forget what had happened to him. He thought he had lost Ruby, for just a minute too long.

“Ain’t it ‘alf,” he nodded grimly. He looked at Duffy, shrugged, and then took another drag. Given they had just hounded him not just through a cityscape, but through planes and portals, he was not one to fall for sympathy. Ever.

“Let’s get to the castle, I daresay we could all use a little refreshment,” Ruby said softly.

“That’s the first good thing you’ve said all day,” he said with relish. He took one last pull and flicked the dog end away.

Duffy conjured his cane into his right hand. He snorted blood, and steadied himself as best he could. His stomach rumbled, his limbs shook, and his breathing was strained, coarse, and pitched.

“Don’t speak of this agreement to anyone,” she warned. “Most of all don’t even look at Luned.” She remembered a promise Duffy had made, and covered their tracks. Only the scribe scared Ruby more than Aurelianus. “Shall we?” She held out her arm.

Aurelianus looked at her with distrust. Whatever the pikin’ wankers (his go to title for the duo from here on in) were up to seemed far too wholesome and quaint. He frowned, but took her hand anyway.

“Is there whiskey?” he asked absent-minded.

“Oh, count on it. Will you have a dram with us? We put on a warm welcome to newcomers,” she chirped with hospitality drilled into her after decades of domestic platitude.

Aurelianus grinned from quill to quill.

"Well, seein' the 'warm welcome' you sods are givin' me 'ere…I'm goin' to get absolutely cunt drunk, luv."

They vanished from Salvar’s streets in a trio of turquoise thunderstorms.

[Lye]

Thread Title: Cunt Drunk Love (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?25662)
Judgment Type: Condensed Rubric
Participants: Ruby & Aurelianus Drak'shal



Plot: 21/30

The story was simple, yet engaging. All in all, Aurelianus stirred up a riot, tangoed with a well endowed Phoenix-Witch, and loosely agreed to offer his services to the group known as Chronicle. Overall, Aurelianus shone strong in the writing. The vast array of vocabulary painted a colorful scene and was precise enough to clearly visualize the current happenstance in the story. Ruby played off Aurelianus's personality in her posts keeping in tune with his personality. The one major weakness occurred after Ruby fell off the cliff and her quick overpowering of the situation. This jerked the story into another direction. During this transition, it seemed unclear between the writers what setting they were operating in. Ruby had snapped them back to Salvar, but her follow up post remarked off the previous setting of Gehenna. Aurelianus repeated the transition in his follow up post thereby doubling the event. A read through would have caught this. Overall, a little more description into Ruby's actions would have added more strength in comparison to Aurelianus's detailed posts. Repetition of "sod", "chit", and "pikin" also slightly detracted from the flow. Although these words are colorful and unique, the repetition of which made them mundane. This was minor, as it seemed more of a cultural trait of the character - or slang equivalents of "bastard", "bitch", and "fuckin" to which would be commonly used in darker personalities.



Character: 20/30

Aurelianus shone through with a distinct and unique personality. The insight to his thoughts, body language, and overall presence ooze and identifies with his race. The banter with Ruby and emotional investment in the overall situation build a believable mindset. This effectively allows the reader to step into the shoes of the character and experience the story rather than be an omniscient onlooker. Both Aurelianus and Ruby maintained a consistent persona for their characters and created a solid interaction with one another.



Prose: 21/30

Overall, the story was well written. There still existed a minor punctuation and capitalization error here and there, but nothing and detracted from the flow. Word repetition, on the other hand, did do some harm. In certain paragraphs, identical identifiers used to distinguish the subject of the actions was duplicated. Use of actions regarding appendages or surrounding environment can add more diversity on conveying events without the need to refer to the acting character. This was not a major detractor, but was noticeable.



Wildcard: 9/10

I just want to say that I did not want to judge this thread initially. I ran over some of the open requests to see what kind of content they had and I ended up reading through this entire thread. For those that do not know me, I actually hate reading and will only continue to do so willingly if the story can completely detach me from reality and bring me into fantasy. This did just that. Personally, Aurelianus stole the light of this show, but Ruby did provide the necessary banter and element to keep it engaging. I am impressed and oddly enough, want to read more. Please keep up the posting and show me more of what you can do.



Final Score: 71/100

Aurelianus Drak'shal (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?16463) receives:


1,575 EXP!
200 GP!


Ruby (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?14033) receives:


1,575 EXP!
200 GP!

Congratulations!

[Lye]

EXP & GP Added!