A Thing For Blood (Closed to Amari)

[The Huntsman]

“Walking.” I couldn't help it. The wolf hides and heads were in a bundle on my back, and we had been walking through the woods for a short while now. Not one, but two completed hunts left me feeling mentally satisfied, and I was relaxing as my body cooled from its adrenaline and blood-fuelled state. So when the woman beside me spoke, I could not help but reply, even though I well knew that she had not been talking to me.

“Smart-ass.” she shot back. I snorted. If we were going to be working together for any extended period of time, I might as well get to know her better. And have her get to know me.

“Years in the academy, at least some part of me had to get smart at some point.” I shrugged slightly.

“I mean - smart may be a long shot.” She said, snarky little bitch wasn’t she? I felt my lips twitch.

“At least it is not trying to carry the conversation along. So. Scarlet. Magical reincarnation cycle of some kind?” It was different. And explosive. Very, explosive.

“More or less…” She muttered, absently kicking at the snow. “I’m immortal. Fuck knows I’ve tried. If I’m damned to live for an eternity may a well shape the world into something I want it to be.” She shifted her black and red Sclera eyes up toward me. “At least make it fun, or something.” I blinked, tilted my head to the side, watching her. Now that the fight was over, I was processing her. Right. I knew why I projected a cold emotionless shell. But this woman? Hmm.

“So, the black lines. Related to the immortality, or a separate thing? And those Ethereal snakes?” The more I learned about her - the more likely I would be to have an easier time of fighting if that ever came up again.

“No. That’s my corruption. The snakes are a physical manifestation of my soul.” She was quick to talk about herself when asked. I thought it’d be harder to pry her for information. The confident and prissy woman I first encountered wasn’t her. I wondered if her revival had something to do with her being so deflated. But - a physical manifestation of her soul? Her corruption? That - Hm.

“Corruption? How is it purified then?” I paused and looked over to her as we came to a crossroads.

She glared at me, her voice turning into more of a growl. “Why the fuck do you wanna know that? What do you care? It’s better this way. Trust me.” She huffed and turned her attention to the path ahead. “Left here.” Then she started forward, ahead of me.

Better this way? I doubted that, highly doubted it in fact. Corruption never led anywhere good - in fact, it led to death and destruction. It led to becoming a beast, a ravenous force of the end. And Huntsmen fought beasts. Or, as I had done recently, prevented them. I watched the woman go, stomping ahead of me in the snow. She wasn't there, not yet. She was dark, she was twisted - the rot had shown that. But she wasn't there. Because she had control, she could restrain it. If the beast could not be slain - do not let it become a beast. And - her reaction.

“There is a way, then…” I tilted my head as I followed after her.

[Amari]

Scarlet calmly sat back down in her chair. It creaked with her weight. The assassin had relived the memory and the pain enough times that it barely bothered her any more. “I could show you the time I did almost explode.” She glanced down at her glass. She did feel a little dizzy, but it was good…. It felt good to be drinking this whiskey and actually talking to someone for once. Someone who wasn’t doting on her and forcing her to stay inside the Seventh Sanctum. The woman was barely away of Hunters own issues.

“I won’t turn into a beast Hunter. I’ll simply cease to be. I’ll lose all sense of self, of cognitive thought- and then...well… who the fuck cares?” She blinked as the man simply lifted one hand.

“You cannot show me that - and think one would not be concerned. That was - I lived that. You did nothing to deserve that. I - if there is someone who needs a Huntsman, well.” He filled her glass again and pushed it to her. Scarlet stared at her glass. The amber liquid swirled in it. Or maybe she was just swaying.

“Are you...trying to get me drink?” She accused as she looked up at him. He stiffened. “Tch… who cares what I did. It happened. No big deal. You think that the last of it? I see the demon often. He’s…” Scarlet paused. What way to describe Aurelianus. “A cruel, teasing and vindictive bastard.” Yes. That aptly described the man.

“Knew it wasn't the last. Made a deal.” His fingers were drumming in the table. “Is he on your list.” A calm, not quite question. Scarlet shook her head.

“He and I have an amicable relationship.” Scarlet had...quite funnily enough taken quite a liking to Aure. She wouldn’t call him a friend, or even someone who was close to her. They just...had a working business relationship. She noticed how his hands curled into a fist as they landed on the wooden table.

“You get over his ways.” Scarlet mused as she lifted the cup to her lips and took a long sip. Her eyes glassed over the rest of the room. It was still rowdy. Ugh. That must be where the dronning buzzing was coming form.

“Humanity is so fuckin’ flawed…”

“All tha races are. Gotta find the good, protect it from the flaws.” He snorted.

Scarlet nodded in agreement. To her, there was no good in this wretched place. There was only a few beings she could tolerate. She didn’t agree to there being any ‘good’ to her, there wasn’t such a thing. “Is that an accent?” Why hadn’t she heard it before? “Were you hidin’ it?” He paused, his eyes widening. Ah he had been.

“Yea. S’not proper.” He shrugged, then sat back with his eyes wide.

“Not proper? Fuck whats proper. Do I look fuckin’ proper to you?” Scarlet asked as she slammed her half empty cup down on the table. “Eh? What do I even fuckin’ look like to you?” She rose a hand to her head and sighed. “Ugh….Fuck me…” She muttered.

“Like sin. Like sin wrapped in red cord. And no - can't. You're my… Boss? Fucking. Somethin’. Would love to. Can't. Fuck. Alcohol is still in me but it isn't helping this damn headache.” He sat back and remove his glasses, for a moment showing sharp silver irises before he closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Are you blind?” Scarlet asked. Focusing on his eyes and ignoring his comments for the time being. “You should go to bed.” His eyes opened back up, and focused on her.

“Th’hell? Na’, I'm not blind. The hell made you think that? And bed wouldn't help this fucking headache. Something’s not right in the wheelhouse, gotta figure out what.”

Scarlet was buzzed, a pleasant feeling that dulled her senses. “Well…” She paused. “I dunno why you hide your eyes then.” She studied the dark man. His skin the colour of charcoal, his coat the colour of the void and his hair was like starlight amongst the midnight being that he was. He was a hunter. He was in her employ. She found no real reason to continue to drink with him, nor hang around with him. Normally, she’d have given him information on how to contact her - a list of things she needed to get down and be on her way.

“Not the right color. Tired of people at the damn academy staring at them all the time, then the fucks in the streets. Y’ don’ know since yer a human. But these? Not right. People say is th’ sign of th’ moon-touched. Don't remember it being this bad when I was young. Guess…” He paused.

“Mmm?” She hadn’t exactly been paying attention but blinked when she realized that he had stopped talking. He was frowning, and the way his mouth shifted made faint purple tones appear on his skin around his lips.

“I - fuck. Fuck me, I don't remember it being this bad when I was young.” One hand came up and ran through his short white hair.

“Hmmm?” Scarlet leaned forward , resting her chin on her hand. “What was that?” Her entire body felt pretty damn good right now. This may just be why she loved Yurik’s so much. “Yer eyes? Nah. They’re fine. Glasses make you look a little dicky to be honest.” He blinked and his eyes focused on her. Then he spun the glasses over to her. “Hold on to those for me then. I'll have to come back for them, yea?” in the future.”

Scarlet tried to sit up but the room span so she rested herself firmly back against her hand. “What? The fuck I do that for? Is this meant to be sentimental? You’ll come back because I’ll-I’ll...tell you to….” He was intently staring at her. “I will tell you to come back.” Scarlet said with an assertive nod.

“Eh. Keep em and ya know I'll be comin’ back. Smash em and ya know I listened to ya.” He shrugged. “And if you tell me to come back, I will anyway. But those, they’re bonus insurance. Yea. And no - I - I was meanin’, I don't remember being young.” He frowned, his eyes flicking downward for a moment.

“Th’ pain in the wheelhouse is gone. I don’ remember shit before the fuckin’ academy.” He sounded downright agitated about this.

“I may be able to bring back memories from then…” Scarlet mused. “But I ain’t doin’ it for free.” She glanced down at her hands. The black lines were beginning to form again. Her potion wearing off.”

“Fuckin’, what you want then? It's no’ right to know.”

What did she want...Scarlet had plans. She wanted to overthrow the church. She wanted to build the SEventh Sanctum into something more. Something more than the Crimson Hand. More than a band of ruffians and perverts and the lowest of the low. But - was that really what she wanted or was she just going through the motions?

“I want...another fuckin’ drink…” she muttered as she stood. Black began to bleed into the whites of her eyes and the emerald darkened to a red. His silvery eyes remained trained on hers, as he poured her glass full. Scarlet took another sip and relished in the burning sensation that came with it.

“S’easy. Not worth showing me whut I’m missing. What do you want for givin’ me back my memories.” He picked up his own glass and downed it, then refocused his gaze on hers.

“I don’t fuckin’ know ok.” She muttered, pointing at him with an accusatory finger, spilling the whiskey onto the floor. “I don’t fuckin’ KNOW.” She spat at him. “Fuckin’ stop fuckin’ pressing me. Fuck me…

“Then I’ve gotta stay til ya do. And stop sayin’ that, you're my damn type. Fuck, I need more whiskey.” And this time the tall drow took a drink straight from the bottle, pouring some into his mouth and swallowing directly, skipping the glass entirely.

“What? You’d actually fuck me, right after all that ‘thank fuck she’s not interested in that’ shit? First the alcohol. Then that. The hell is your game Hunter.” She muttered, the glass shattered in her hand as she clenched her fist. Blood dripped to the floor and she enjoyed it. She enjoyed the sting of the pain. It made her feel like she was alive.

But why was she even bothering with being alive?