Taming the Dragon (LEA only)

OoC: Well, I believe I've already given you all the information you need to know what to do next... so let's cut to the chase, shall we?

BiC:

Rip! The admission ticket tore cleanly down its center; the receptionist must have held this occupation for years, pitifully enough. She appeared to take pride in the navy uniform with yellow trim. Feeling ill tempered as usual, the young blonde waiting to be admitted snatched her end of the flimsy scrap of paper from the receptionist’s fingers and started forward before a stern hand gripped her shoulder. Turning in irritation, she was met with the other woman’s disdainful expression. The end of the ticket she had taken was swiped back, and replaced with the other end.

Letting out a low growl, the blonde continued past an indignant receptionist and out into the massive, open main hall of the cathedral. A plush red carpet beneath her feet might have been comfortable were she not wearing a pair of dusty, wooden sandals. Already, most of the flagrantly dressed nobles attending tonight’s event had found a seat among the many rows of comfortable upholstered chairs. The air was significantly cooler than in a desert atmosphere; unbearably so. High above, a set of crystalline chandeliers glistened, illuminating the chatting audience and empty stage. A balcony was stationed on both left and right mahogany walls of the circular auditorium, and both were already filled. Upon the stage, an assortment of props sat unattended: a bush, a wax doe and a remarkably crafted, plastic tree nearby to overshadow the animal. The painted background behind it all was quite a magnificent forest scene. Had the blonde a sense of aesthetics, she might have been able to appreciate the masterful brushwork.

Not wishing to be noticed, the youth turned for the back row of seats to her left. The thin, fur cloak draped around her shoulders afforded some protection from peering eyes, but if one were close enough, they would see her agitated expression beset with a pair of fierce sky-blue eyes and golden bangs combing over them. What she desired to hide most, however, were her ears. Thus, the young woman held the hems of her cloak tightly together, lowering her neck as far as it could go to hide herself beneath the half-raised hood.

Scanning the audience while moving further down the row, she saw that the auditorium seats had been almost completely filled; a family of four filed into the row directly before her, their eyes thankfully focused at their feet. Hmph! thought the woman to herself. This had better be over soon… Her eyes lazed further to the left as she observed the overdressed motley of visitors; tuxedo-adorned men; frilled women; and children with clothing greater than their own bodyweight.

A shrill sound pierced the young woman’s ears, making her wince and drawing her attention to the stage. There, a behemoth-like vocalist, bearing a red dress far too small, had burst into song. That is, if it could have been called song. Stereotypical, thought the blonde sourly. At least I don’t have to sit through this entire... performance. She thought the final word with particular disaste as the nerve-wrecking sound pounded against her sensitive eardrums. No one else seemed offended by this woman’s voice; rather, they seemed to enjoy the foolish display, grinning in delight. Rather, all but the children seemed to enjoy it.

Then, as she continued scanning the seated crowd, something caught her eye. A certain young man four rows from the back had turned his head, and was now staring at her through sandy blond hair. How long has he been looking at me? she thought in surprise and anger. Startled that she had been noticed, but not panicked, she averted her eyes and quickly lowered into the nearest plush chair. Suddenly, she froze. With a swift motion almost too quick to see, she flicked the hood back over her head, hoping beyond hope that no one had caught sight of her ears.

That man with the sandy hair was still staring directly at her. Now, however, one eyebrow was arched in the woman’s direction. Curses! she muttered lowly enough that only she could hear. He must have seen… Averting her eyes to the opposite end of the cathedral, the woman tried her best to ignore the young suitor. Even so, she could feel his eyes burning through the cloak and right into the back of her head. A low growl formed in the back of her throat. Look away, she thought venomously, look away… But he continued staring.

That growl in the back of her throat grew audible now, turning to an irritated rumble. Knowing that any noise would bring attention to her person, the woman promptly silenced herself. Not wishing for his prying eyes to be upon her any longer, she rose and started toward the opposite end of the cathedral, past the ticket taker, and against the wall. A brief glance behind revealed that the man’s eyes were following every step. An urge to snap his neck boiled in the youth’s stomach, but she deliberately ignored it. Instead, she stalked down the rightmost aisle toward the entrance backstage, destination firmly in mind.

As she passed down each step, paranoia leaked into her consciousness. He’s still staring, she thought irritably. Disgusting, piggish fool! Look away before I tear you limb from limb! Within her cloak, the woman’s hands clenched in fists of rage. Now half of the aisle was behind her. Still, that man’s eyes were glued to her back, burning their way through the layers of inconspicuous clothing. The woman quickened her pace, eager to escape those prying orbs. One slender hand emerged to grip the edge of her hood, preventing the cloth from being thrown back. Finally, the darkened archway that led behind the set rose up above her, and she felt those eyes torn away. Releasing a breath she did not know she was holding, the woman leaned her back against the mahogany wall.

“And you are…?” came a deep and deliberately quiet voice.

Startled again, she bolted from the wall and raised one fist in self-defense, half expecting the sandy blonde male waiting for her. But upon seeing that the bearer of that voice was another fur-cloaked individual, she relaxed slightly. The man that now stood before her was a rustic person; a black scarf hid most of his face, leaving his eyes the sole visible part of his body. Remembering her reasons for being here, the woman spoke, “I’m looking for someone… and something.”

The man’s eyes closed in thought; this was the one she had been seeking. Somewhat cautiously, yet wearing her typically sour expression, the woman peeled back her cloak ever so slightly. A long, furry, white ear peaked out from the cloth, clearly visible in the dark archway. With the hood no longer covering her head, the woman’s ears were filled with the ungodly sound of the vocalist’s wailing. “Valerie. You have what I want.”

A muffled chuckle rose from the fabric hiding his face, and the dark eyes opened suddenly. A fold appeared at chest-level in his cloak, and then a gloved hand emerged bearing a tiny, inconspicuous wooden box.

Valerie gave the offering a stern glare, then reached her own fingers out to snatch it away.

The man’s free hand swatted hers away before she had the opportunity. “Ah, ah, ah,” he muttered in a condescending, sing-song voice. “This is a business transaction, after all.”

Her lips twisted into a snarl of agitation at both this man and the fact that she was now subjected to the awful opera singer. The valkyrie retreated her hand into her cloak; when it reemerged, a handful of credits were clenched tightly in her fingers. “Here!” she hissed.

With another chuckle, the man swiped the small, engraved discuses and dropped the wooden box into Valerie’s open hand with a single motion. The blonde-haired woman stared at the box for a moment, dually curious as to its contents, but decided against opening it here. When she raised her eyes again, the man was gone.

Valerie had not particularly cared for him. This place, so full of pompous nobles and self-absorbed politicians, was beginning to make her ill. After swiftly hiding the box within her clothing, she turned on her heels stalk out of the archway…and found herself face-to-face with the sandy blonde. A toothy grin was plastered on his face, and his clothing reminded her of a Scottish festival she had once been forced to attend. The valkyrie nearly bumped into him in her rush, but stumbled backward in surprise.

“Ah ken help no’ice ye woondrin’ bahkstage, lassie—” he began, but a dull ring cut his words in half. The Scottish Highlander hardly had time to step back before the tip of a red dagger nicked his chest, ripping the fabric but not meeting flesh.

“Get back, scum!” demanded the valkyrie with a hiss, brandishing a dagger in each slender hand. Her cloak fell open, revealing a decrepit, white T-shirt and tattered shorts. “Leave me be, or I’ll slit your throat and force-feed you your own arm!” The pair of dark-red, straight-edged daggers gleamed elegantly in the chandeliers’ light, throwing off tiny, unnoticeable sparks.

Stumbling backward, but keeping his balance, the blonde-haired man continued grinning. “Och! Ah wee bi’ high-strung, eh, lassie?” As if Valerie had not just made an attempt on his life, the man continued, “Mename’s Dane McKiernan. Ahnd who migh’ ye be, mah lit’l sugar bun?”

A Dark Horizon agent! realized Valerie. He’s been sent here to interrupt the transaction! Fury surfaced very visibly in her expression; reacting to her emotions, the Ryu Shidensae sprang to life with a crackle of electrical energy. “Don’t toy with me! The others may be spineless pushovers, but you picked the wrong agent to piss off.”

Kra-KOOM!!

OoC: Alrighty. Here we go. Sorry about that wait, but I've got it now. Hopefully, it actually turned out good. ^^;;

Och! Ah’ll ne’er git tired o’ watchin’ aul th’ bonnie lassies…

The ruggedly handsome Scottish highlander leaned comfortably against the cool stone wall of one of the myriad buildings that littered the streets of this strange and unknown city he found himself in. For the several days since he had first wandered into this vast complex of structures and people, all Dane could focus on were the female occupants of the city. There seemed to be more of the amazingly beautiful creatures here than he’d ever encountered anywhere else. The wall he was leaning against was conveniently located next to a fruit stand, and, having no money on him whatsoever, Dane found it necessary to deftly lift a few pieces of some strange, green, melon-like fruit from the far corners of the stand, just beyond the watching eye of the shopkeeper.

Too easy…mah nimble fingers ken snatch me anythin’ ah wan’!

As he munched nonchalantly on his pickings, Dane noticed an exceptional-looking young woman glide by. Her shapely figure was clothed in such radiant silk that was only matched by the sparkle in her violet eyes. The woman’s hair was neatly pinned on top of her head, a few wavy strands of golden perfection falling lazily at the sides of her heart-shaped face. Dane’s eyes widened at the sight of her, and he wet his now-dry lips with his tongue. Deciding that such beauty could not possibly exist without him at its side, the highlander finished off the last of the fruit and began to stealthily trail the wondrous creation to wherever she was headed.

After winding through several side streets in his efforts to avoid being noticed by the woman, Dane found himself in front of a massive cathedral. It appeared that was the woman’s intended destination, and Dane grinned to himself, thinking that at last he had her cornered. Boldly, the highlander stepped out into the main street, crossing through the sea of motley pedestrians in order to reach the polished marble steps of the holy structure. The crowd had thinned somewhat and had been reduced to strictly members of the upper class; wealthy nobles and their elegant ladies filed into the gothic building, chatting frivolously amongst themselves.

As the dazzling beauty drifted through the hand-carved mahogany doors, Dane shouldered his way through the pompous nobility and into the wide open lobby of the cathedral. It was so pristine, with the plush carpet giving way easily beneath his feet and the gilding running rampant over everything. He almost felt out of place amidst it all, and this feeling was amplified by the stares of the nobles. Dane chuckled to himself. He wasn’t surprised at all by the wealthy patrons’ reactions to his traditional highlander garb. Not many people normally wore kilts anymore.

’Tis a bloody shame, too. Kilts ahre th’ bes’ par’ o’ bein’ a highlan’er. Harharhar!

Spying the lovely creature he’d glimpsed earlier in the market, Dane discovered, to his immense delight, that she was mere feet away from him. Walking forward a few paces, the eager highlander stretched out a hand to get her attention, and his bold fingers were inches away from her partially bare shoulder when suddenly, he felt a firm hand grip his own shoulder. Cursing his luck as he watched the radiant woman move farther away from him, the Scotsman turned around to find a rather stern-looking woman staring up at him.

“Erm…aye, marm? Wha’ d’yoo wan’ wi’ me?”

“Excuse me…sir…” the receptionist wavered over what to address him as, “but you need a ticket to enter this performance.”

Dane’s roguish grin never faltered and even widened as he peered down at the harsh woman. These were the kind of women he enjoyed exerting his charm over. Thinking quickly, Dane’s silver tongue went to work.

“Well…i’ seems Ah dinnae have any such thing as this ticket yoo speak of. But…Ah doo know one thing. Yoo have th’ mos’ lovely eyes Ah’ve e’er seen b’fore. They’re like…deep pools o’ twilight, wi’ shimmerin’ gems set righ’ in th’ center. So…bonnie brilliant…”

The receptionist’s face softened at his flattering words and red rose in her cheeks. “W-well…” she stammered, “I suppose you don’t have to exactly have a ticket to get in, if you really think my eyes…look like that…” The red in her cheeks deepened. “G-g-go on in, Mr…?”

The highlander flashed that infectious grin of his. “Mename’s Dane MacKiernan, marm. Nice t’ meet yoo.”

Chuckling at his ability to melt the heart of any female he wanted, Dane moved deeper into the grand hall where this performance was supposedly taking place. The décor was even more grandiose in here than it was out in the lobby. Sniffing the air, Dane could just tell there was money in this room. It almost sickened him. He didn’t much care for material wealth himself. Women on the other hand…

Locating an empty seat in the rows closer to the back, Dane settled himself down and began scanning the enormous chamber for any signs of that beauty he’d followed in here. Nothing but older couples seemed to fill his vision. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he turned his head around to see if perhaps she was still standing near the lobby. And that’s when he saw a new woman. This one wasn’t as delicate and fragile-looking. In fact, Dane thought she looked as tough as nails. But that feature, in and of itself, immediately attracted him to her. And to his joyous delight, she moved to stand in front of a seat on the back row near to where he was currently seated. It wasn’t long before Dane’s newest target noticed his hazel gaze on her, and in a rush, she sat down. Just as she did so, however, a rather largish man blocked his vision in an effort to get to his seat farther on down the row behind Dane’s. By the time his vision was unobstructed again, all the highlander could see of the woman was her hooded head, but it was too late for her. His interest was piqued now, and he arched an eyebrow in her direction.

He was now sure that the woman had seen him staring at her, for her own eyes locked on his for a few seconds before quickly averting to the other end of the cathedral. Dane let a grin spread across his face as he continued fixing his eyes upon her. To his satisfaction, she finally arose from her seat and stalked, obviously angry, to the side of the rows of seats. His eyes followed her every step of the way, taking in her every movement. Despite the nondescript, plain cloak she wore, Dane could still pick out every curve of her body, and he smiled to himself. When she reached the entrance to backstage, his eyes could no longer follow her, and a disappointment settled over him. After a few minutes, the woman still had not reappeared, so Dane decided that it would be in his, as well as her, best interest if he were to make his way in the direction of backstage himself.

He reached the darkened archway where he had last seen her and halted, waiting. Within moments, the highlander was rewarded with the form of the woman materializing from out of the shadows. She nearly ran into him but caught herself at the last moment.

“Ah ken help no’ice ye woondrin’ bahkstage, lassie—” He was interrupted rather abruptly by the sudden ripping of the front of his shirt. Glancing down at the magnificent dagger now poised to strike at his heart, Dane couldn’t help but simply grin.

“Get back, scum! Leave me be, or I’ll slit your throat and force-feed you your own arm!”

Dane took in the sight of the twin daggers held securely in both the woman’s hands, and he knew she meant business. But he didn’t care. He was always up for a challenge. “Och! Ah wee bi’ high-strung, eh, lassie? Mename’s Dane MacKiernan. Ahnd who migh’ ye be, mah lit’l sugar bun?”

Pure fury crossed over the woman’s face, and those daggers of her’s began emitting a sort of electrical current, but that did nothing to faze the highlander, nor did the woman’s harsh tone.

“Don’t toy with me! The others may be spineless pushovers, but you picked the wrong agent to piss off.”

And then…the lightning came. But Dane drew his claymore in a flourish and sliced neatly through the electrical energy, rendering it useless. He grinned at the woman’s astonished expression and brought his claymore up in front of his chest.

“Yoo dinnae think me capable o’ defendin’ meself, didja?”

OoC: Sorry for the wait, but I think this is worth it. ^_^ Hope you enjoy!

BiC:

Numerous cries of surprise sprang from around the massive auditorium, and some of the patrons even stood to look around. The sound of thunder had startled them all, yet the Scottish assassin remained unfazed. Teeth bared, Valerie let out a low growl. Her ten-inch daggers, held out to either side, gleamed softly in the chandelier light, throwing off tiny sparks. At any moment, she could call upon her element to annihilate this odious windbag, but he would simply guard with his sword. Once before she had seen a blade with the power to divert the elements, and it had belonged to her adversary. But he’s dead, now, she thought in demented delight. And before long this one will be, also!

A quiet ring buzzed in the air as her daggers leapt for the man’s throat. The resulting back-step was both awkward and controlled at once; Valerie faltered, but only for an instant, then one blade darted for the assassin’s throat again. With a constant, amused smile, the Highlander took another single step back, narrowly avoiding the Ryu Shiden’s deadly touch. With a constant barrage of furious slashes and swipes, the valkyrie forced her opponent further and further up the aisle. Every sweep of her electric blades missed its target by a hair. The growl in her throat now became audible even to herself as the blonde increased the ferocity of her onslaught, delivering lightning-quick jabs from as many directions as her perception would allow. Her arms were a blur as she forced him back, knowing that he would be a simple target once cornered.

When the man’s back was virtually against the wall, he grinned so broadly that Valerie suddenly felt ill. “Iffen ye ken do better ‘an tha’, lassie, you’ll never hi’ me.” It was a taunt, and a very effective one. Valerie gave a frustrated cry and delivered one more thrust of her Ryu Shidensae, pouring every ounce of force her arm could muster. Chink! When the assassin moved his head aside, the blades sank harmlessly into the mahogany behind.

An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to the man, and he pressed his lips to hers. Eyes wide, the valkyrie warrior was so shocked that, for a moment, she could not react. Then, as if on instinct, a knee went up as she yanked her blades free and broke away. A sort of coughing wheeze emerged from the man’s throat as she bounded back. “Oi, me groin!”

“Bastard!” screamed Valerie, rage pouring from every nerve ending in her body. “How dare you, you philandering pig?!” At that moment, the auditorium was sent into utter pandemonium as a bolt of lightning shattered the ceiling above, coming down directly on the assassin’s body, consuming him and the corner behind in a brilliant light.