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errantgoat · 5 years

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Lost and Found

A belated Birthday gift for my dear @queen-scribbles

Dragon Age one-shot set in the canon shared between our Wardens - Trinne Amell and Harvey Cousland. Takes place right after the battle for Redcliff. Because some days are shittier than others.

Trinne was more than happy to leave Alistair and Cousland alone on the Redcliff shore after the battle. The night had been rough, she was tired, and not in the mood for listening to two men exchanging grievances like a couple of fishwives. Instead, she returned to the village and threw herself into performing what menial tasks needed to be done – from checking up on the rest of the party (all accounted for, even Zevran, she'd have to tell Alistair he lost that bet), counting what means of defense the village had left (two barrels of oil left, unused), to helping villagers carry the undead corpses (too many) onto burning pyres. The sun was already peeking over the hills, when she realized she had seen neither the templar nor the rogue and asking around confirmed they haven't returned to Redcliff proper.

Grumbling underneath her breath, Trinne directed her steps towards the pier, and then to the left, through waist height weeds and bushed, towards a small piece of shore from where the final wave of undead came last night. Half worried, and half promising herself to give the two lazy oafs a piece of her mind, she traversed the overgrown path and emerged on the other side, only to find Alistair's lone silhouette occupying the sorry excuse for a beach.

Trinne joined him, her question quickly answered when she spotted garments dumped in a pile on the rocky ground. She didn't even have to follow Alistair's line of sight. Calenhad Lake was eerily still, like a fancy silver mirror, and Cousland's head was a dot ways away, disturbing the said stillness, ripples blossoming whenever he resurfaced or dove underwater.

She opened and closed her mouth, and opened it again, pointing towards the lake. "Is he insane? He knows there's at least dozens of dead people in there, right?” Trinne exclaimed. "Moving ones!”

Alistair broke away from watching the rogue and greeted her with a forced smile. "I guess he thought it would waste time?" He guessed, guilt painted on his face. "I offered to bring a row boat, but he wouldn't hear any of it... He said I've done enough." The templar shifted uneasily. "He knows it was an accident, right?"

"Of' course it was an accident!" Trinne rolled her eyes. An incredibly dumb one, admittedly. So dumb that pointing fingers in this situation was unreasonable, and she assumed a pragmatic person like Cousland would be better than that. Apparently not.

She wistfully glanced towards Redcliff, she could almost visualize the vacant cottage they've been given for lodging. They were real beds there. Real beds. All she wanted to do was to go to sleep. Or at least try to, because it was becoming increasingly difficult to catch a nice full night of rest for her lately. Trinne blew a raspberry, resigned - something always came up.

Just an hour or two more, you can make it. She shook her head to get rid of the cobwebs and then critically looked the templar over. Alistair looked almost as disheveled as she felt.

"I ate already." She nudged him, nodding towards Redcliff. "There's a stew, for the militia and us too, of course." She flashed him a toothy grin. "The villagers went all out."

Hesitantly, Alistair returned her smile with his own, a more tight lipped one, but his eyes gave the smallest twinkle of mischief. He cocked an eyebrow. "It can't be better than the one I make?” He asked theatrically, as if offended.

She stifled a snort and managed her most thoughtful expression. "It has potatoes in it. And real vegetables."

He turned his gaze towards the sky, nodding. "Well, in that case, tough competition."

She grinned and nudged the warrior again, because this could go on forever. At least he seemed a little less distracted now. "Go. I'll stay here for a while. I'm sure Cousland won't be long either. Calenhad is as cold as void."

She was still touching his arm when Alistair's hand brushed against her own, two sets of fingers entangling in a quick, skittish gesture. It lasted just for a moment, both parties exploring a sudden and newfound interest in their own shoes. Trinne's were caked in mud, as she discovered, her cheeks burning up. She let the embarrassment wash over her, she welcomed it, and even enjoyed it. But she'd rather fight two Ogres at once than meet Alistair's gaze right now. Finally the templar broke the silence by clearing his throat. Was his voice a little squeakier than usual or did she imagine it? "Um, I'd better go," he said. "I'm pretty sure if I'm going to apologize one more time, Harvey will just skewer me.” He gingerly put the thing he was holding in his left hand on top of the pile of clothes. It was an empty scabbard. Then he glanced towards the lake one last time. "Just make sure he doesn't drown, okay?"

"Can do!" Trinne replied a bit too quickly, clenching and unclenching her palm. Only when Alistair was gone she realized her swimming abilities left a lot to be desired. Hopefully this doesn't come up.

Thankfully, Cousland turned out to be a quite decent swimmer, but that also made the wait really, really boring. Between the moist ground, overwhelming smell of fish and seagulls that ignored her because she had no food to offer, there was only so much she could entertain herself with. Finally, after the third time she promised herself she'd give him another fifteen minutes and then just leave him be, she realized the swimming silhouette was slowly getting closer. When Harvey finally reached the shore, Trinne had to purge her mind from seeing another walking corpse clumsily emerging from the depths. Cousland was soaked, pants clinging to his legs making him look spindly. His skin was pale, with an unhealthy hint of blue.

The rogue stumbled, but managed to right himself before Trinne could react. She approached him slowly. He was alive, definitely alive. Just exhausted. "Are you alright?" She prodded.

He moved past her, still wobbly, sparing her maybe half of a glance. "Do I look like I'm holding a sword?" When she didn't reply, he shook his head, wet hair brushing the base of his neck. "Then spare me.” He picked up his shirt.

"Spare you what, me being concerned?!” She couldn't believe she postponed sleep for this. "You're being very pleasant today.”

"My family sword is on the bottom of the LAKE.” He bellowed back at her, voice coarse and Trinne flinched, because it was the first time she heard Cousland raise his voice to such extent. He was pointing towards the murky waters, hand trembling from either cold or anger, she wasn't sure. A piece of weed untangled itself from his hair, landing on his face. "So no, I'm not alright." He answered her question properly this time. "Nothing's alright."

This was a long night, Trinne thought. Full of unpleasantness. It was still continuing, even after dawn. "Look, I'm sorry about that." She massaged the bridge of her nose. She was going for a placatory tone, but she was tired and her teeth were clenching on their own. "But you talked with Alistair, and I talked with Alistair. He says it was an accident, and I agree. He even tried to get it back, you know he couldn't just go in the water with all that armor."

"Maybe he should have.” Harvey snapped back.

Trinne's patience was now fumes, scattered in the wind. And her core was boiling, Alistair's lingering touch a kindle to her anger. She threw hands in the air - because Maker be her witness she had tried - and then cradled them in front of her. "Oh, poor you! I'm so sorry you gave Alistair your family sword for safekeeping, I'm SO sorry he used it to defend ALL these people. I'm so sorry it got wedged in one of the undead corpses, and I'm sooo sorry that corpse walked right back into the lake at dawn.” She mimed the shambling of an undead creature.

Harvey looked like she just slapped him. "You think this is funny?"

"Cousland, I haven't slept for two days, everything is either funny or tragic. And this was a too specific sequence of events to not fit both."

Something in the way his muscles tensed sent her mind right back to her Circle days, and she remembered a story of how one of mages of Lucrosian fraternity brought back to the Tower an unusual prize - a caged bird of prey. It was such a novelty a few younger students snuck out that night and teased the bird, pocking it with sticks. One of the boys' names was Gavin, she remembered. They called him Gavin Four Fingers after that.

If he comes at me, I will fight him. She decided. No matter if her magic was tapped out at the moment. She will wallop his ass until he sees reason. He looked like he was barely standing anyways.

But Harvey did not lunge. Instead, the rogue stood still, as his eyes glazed over, looking past her shoulder towards the water. He visibly deflated, grabbing his armor, and started putting it on without a word.

She watched him buckle the brown leather and tighten it with laces for a minute or two. Then do the same with his belt and weapons. When the rogue reached for his shoes, still in complete silence, Trinne rolled her yes.

"Oh come on Cousland, I'm throwing you a bone here! If you're angry, vent, come at me, whatever! You'll feel better.”

He put on a boot, took a deep breath, took the boot off and removed a few stray pebbles. "Amell, give me one reason I should stay.” He said.

"Cousland?" Now it was her turn to feel as if she'd been struck. Trinne's mind grasped for context, skimming through bits of past conversations, searching for clues. Nothing. Where did this come from? Was this really about the sword...it couldn't be about the sword. Cousland was quiet and did what was expected of him, and usually even well beyond that. And the way he said it, absent was the dry tone she began to associate with rare attempts at humor the rogue was sometimes capable of. He was being serious. Trinne didn't realize she sat down. "I know you're angry at Alistair, but that doesn't mean...”

He raised his hand sharply and cut her train of thought. "To the void with Alistair, I know it's not his fault. This is on me. The history of six generations rests on the bottom of the lake because I lent what wasn't mine to begin with. So please tell me what should I do now."

His family. Trinne felt embarrassed that she'd forgotten. Though maybe that wasn't the best way to put it. Every day they were either running or fighting indescribable horrors. And with all the Fade business it really felt like years have passed. And she regretted that her hesitation only seemed to reaffirm something for the noble, as his green eyes hardened.

"My family, everything that they were, will disappear like the sword." He said, hands tightening around empty scabbard. "Howe will lie, and people won't speak up because we just lost Ostagar and there is more important conflict at hand. As long as Coastlands are stable and can support the war effort, then it can wait. Also, it might even be better that way, we did fall under Amaranthine's rule after all, a long time ago, so it's just back to the way it used to be." Frustration was rolling off of him in waves. "I can't let it end like this, and while I'm here I can't do anything."

"Harvey," Trinne started softly, a little overwhelmed by the turn this conversation was taking. "We're Grey Wardens now, we took an oath..." "Don't remind me." He shook his head. "Does a new duty make an older one obsolete now? I didn't agree to this. I didn't."

Well, that wasn't the right approach. She tried to use an argument that she thought would appease him, but this wasn't their regular dance of quips and jabs, and she was lost. What would their group do if he really left? Would he really go? Would they even manage to stop him? Would she try to stop him? Maybe it wasn't even that deep, maybe he just wanted someone to listen. "What would you do, If you could go?" She asked him apprehensively. "I don't know." Harvey trailed off. Both boots were on now, but he made no attempt to get up. "I'd find Fergus first, give him the sword, if I still had it. Travel north, help him gather the remainder of Cousland troops, rally local banns. Bryce Cousland was a fair man, there are surely those that remain loyal to the family. Then we would go after Howe, I assume, take back the castle..."

Trinne squinted at him. "This is an oddly specific plan to follow after 'I don't know'. How many times did you consider leaving?”

"A few.” Harvey confessed.

They sat together, shoulder to shoulder, so close she could almost feel the coldness of the lake still emanating from him. She sympathized, but what he wanted to accomplish was out of her field of expertise. Advice wise, if he asked her how to arc a lightning bolt to hit three darkspawn at once, she'd be more than happy to share. But right now she was grasping at straws. Finally, instead of politics, she reached towards a more basic truth.

"Nobles have their own code of honor, don't you.” She said. Trinne herself was technically nobility, but was too young when she arrived at the Circle to take away much from it. "I'm not sure if they would take kindly to a Grey Warden who shirks from their responsibilities, especially during the Blight. When it comes to credibility, I mean.” She shrugged apologetically, not to antagonize him, but because she thought that was the truth. "Just sayin'"

There was a long pause when he tried to refute her, but finally shrugged his shoulders. "They wouldn't, would they? I don't have anything to counter that.”

"I don't think so. It might even make it worse for your brother. But I haven't finished yet.” Trinne put her finger up. "They would listen to someone who helped stop the Blight, I think.”

"And how long will that take?” He responded with a sour smile. It tugged on his lips without reaching the eyes. "I know stories, I know there were blights that lasted decades, if not longer. No, Howe needs to pay before that.”

"Right now, I'm not sure you could do anything else. If it's...if it's the memory of your family you're worried about, the only thing you can do is try to do good things while carrying their name. It must count for something." Maker, why was it getting so hard to talk.

Again they sat in silence, looking at the lake. Wind finally picked up, and small waves were crashing against the stones. Trinne blinked away the burning sensation beneath the eyelids. It finally hit her what was missing from the bigger picture.

"Cousland, you are such a dumbass, you know that?? It's you, you, you. Doing everything by yourself. You'd go off looking for allies when you have a perfectly fine bunch here."

He seemed taken aback by that. "Amell, you don't owe me anything."

"Nonsense!" She cut him off. "You helped me save the Circle, and believe me when I say I don't love the place, but I wouldn't want to see it become a flaming pile of abominations either. So if you can't do your thing the proper way, we'll just have to do it our way." "That's not reassuring, we're barely...” he started. Again, she didn't let him finish. "The only thing I want to hear from you is whether you want Howe done rare or medium, because I will fry that bastard in his own bed for you, you have my word.”

"Trinne..."

She rolled her eyes. What a stubborn man.

"Cousland, listen, we will get him. I don't know where, I don't know when, but we will. Trust me on this." She paused, returning to the problem at hand. "And I'm really, really sorry about your sword. I really am. This is such a stupid thing to have happened.” She bit her lip, calculating, counting how many undead corpses she saw littering Redcliff, how many were already on the pyre the villagers erected to burn all of the remains down. She thought how many monsters might've retreated back inside the Calenhad.

"Look, we might be able to last one more night. If the blade is still wedged inside the corpse, it will just come out again tonight, wouldn't it?"

He was already shaking his head. "You're playing a very unfair game, Amell."

"What, no! I'm being completely serious. We killed most of them, right? So whatever wave comes out tonight, it can't as bad.” She paused, pursing her lips. "Unless... whatever lives inside the castle can summon more demons, and who knows how many corpses are buried at the bottom of the lake. Hmmmm.” She trailed off unhappily. Don't you just hate it when you kill your own argument.

So far Cousland's face went from doubt, skimmed confusion and was following her little tirade with an emotion she couldn't quite place.

"What, why are you looking at me like that? It's just a thought.” As his eyes lingered on her face, Trinne felt the heat invading her cheeks once more, this time for a different reason. Their defense did well last night, it wasn't a stretch they could keep Redcliff safe for a while. He didn't have to be weird about it.

Finally, the rogue awkwardly raked a hand through his hair. "Trinne I...if I said yes to something like this, I'm certain the six generations of Couslands I mentioned would rise from their ashes just to haunt me at night, my father first in line."

She huffed, arms crossed. "You're impossible to please, you know that?” "On the contrary. Duty should always be towards people, not towards things." He got up, took a deep breath and let it out, marking the end of this conversation. "We should go. And you should really get some rest." He tilted his head. "Did you know your right eye starts twitching when you're really tired?" Rude! "Well, and you have to find a change of pants because yours are soaked." She was definitely tired, because that jab wasn't even half as good as she thought it would be. "Just promise me you won't saunter off while I'm asleep, alright?" She finally caved. He nodded, but didn't comment. "We do need to figure out what to do next. Maybe it's time to visit the Redcliff castle."

Trinne yawned. "On this we both agree."

#dragon age #dao #writing #trinne amell #harvey cousland #otp: shadows & sparks #though not much otp'ing at the moment #or is there #*cackles*

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lovelywaifu · 7 years

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Here’s the RP log I promised (part 1)!

As a warning: right now it is minimally edited. There are so many typos and shit I want to die but it was all done on the fly in a window that did not have any kind of spell check feature. Just uuuuuh... use your context clues. Yeah.

I’m breaking this into parts because it’s just way too long to subject someone to in one post.

Session started 2010-12-08 19:47:41 good times

Okay: Obligatory notes on wtf happened. Asa is badly... hurt?? at the beginning of this. Her body was 3 kinds of fucked up and she was suuuuuper struggling with it. She is working for a guild as a thief for the money to support her pregnant best friend who recently lost her mate. Asa is trying to keep working and has been loyal, but the way they are treating her throughout the story makes her realize she needs to gtfo. But since they basically own her, it’s not that simple. Her thief persona is called Kumiho and she wears a mask shaped like a fox. I’m not including a lot of the drama with Pheno leading up to this because that would take FOREVER. Yes, Volpe was based off the Assassin’s Creed series but in the map I ran, pretty much everything was fine so long as everyone had fun with it. His player spoke Italian, so there is a lot of that in there.

Here we gooooooooo:

Kumiho slipped her mask on over her face, hiding her gender and identity from the world once more as she stepped out of the Hideout. Going home was the only thing on her mind for now, though the assignment she had just picked up weighed heavy on her mind. Not because of the target or difficulty, but because of her growing frailty. Working -even just getting around- was becoming an impossible chore. The pain that ran through her becoming beyond unbearable and it showed in her ungraceful gait, lack of flexibility and general not being in top form. Even now, she trekked through the jungle with noisy footsteps and an echo-y pant in the hollow of her mask. She took a moment to pause and stop near the little dock, but noticed someone not too far away. She quickly ducked into the bush, cursing her luck and carelessness. La Volpe, fortunately for her, had not seen anything careless. His bright brown eyes were busy paying attention to the girl that so craved it, prancing in front of him like a cat mreowling for attention. "And what is your name, generous stranger?" The woman purred, tongue thick with local accent. Volpe seemed quick to answer, that smooth smile and charming look could bluff his way through any amount of lying. "Angelo." His own Italian accent said, "Angelo Cirocco." And then adding, as if to strengthen his cause, "My familia owns a wealthy trading market. I inherited it from my padre and I've been traveling with it ever since." The girl he was with made a noise of amazement. "That's so wonderful! I bet you're wealthy beyond belief!" In one smooth movement Volpe's arm slipped around the girl's waist, "More then you think, signora. If you like, I could show you some of my...wealth." A Cheshire grin spread across his lips as he lead the girl on, not waiting for her response. Volpe wouldn't have to. Lead them into a story about wealth and family and you'd have them dangling from the rod like starved fish. So, he and his new companion trawled through these unnamed streets, ones that would have no meaning to him. They stopped occasionally to speak to women, sometimes men that this lady seemed to know, chatting like old fishwives as Volpe sat quietly and patiently. Thankfully he was a patient man, else he would of not gotten where he was today.

Kumiho's ears perked as he spoke his name. Whether it was truth or lies, she had no clue but that accent grabbed her interest almost immediately. Always keen to the characteristics of targets, she decided that it might be in her best interest to keep an eye on this man she had never seen before. But, oh how that damned pain was troubling her! Left with little choice, she decided to tail him. She kept a little distance, though always within earshot of him. She was far too easy to spot on the streets, with the fox mask drawing the curious glares and questioning stares. Maybe it would be easy to drop her disguise. He DID seem to have a fondness for the ladies. And in normal clothing, she would be able to follow him without fear of being recognized for what she was. Having never worked without the protection of her mask, she was distracted by the hard choice. She stumbled right into a trash bin, knocking it over. A soft, sharp "fuck!" escaped her as she scrambled for cover.

La Volpe's acute senses had been picking up some strange vibes, the sort you got when people were staring into the back of your head. But he resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder, not wanting to discourage his tagalong. That was until the trashcan spilling onto the streets, hands twitched from the woman's waist and to the hidden dagger on the small of his back, grasping the handle though not removing the weapon. He managed only to catch a brief glimpse of this strange being before they disappear, but enough to see that vulpine mask. "What..." He gasped, not quite sure what he had seen. Without thinking he dashed off after the stranger, before stopping at the calls of, "What, where are you going?!" Thinking fast, he replied, "I, uh, forgot about something, someone that wants to make a business proposition. I will return, signora." And with a polite bow he continued chase, not really intending on returning to the femme who's name he didn't even know. "You!" Volpe called, rounding the corner she disappeared behind. "I know you are there." The street was quiet, a back alley that people tended to avoid. Volpe could see why; it smelled faintly of bodily secretions. "Hiding is useless, uno strano. Come out. I promise, I won't hurt you." Italian charm rode upon every syllable, his obvious unawares on the workings of the foreign city on his promises, and a lack of trust there in as the hand upon the blade refused to move as he inched further into the street. He was not afraid, he had come out of dark alley brawls many times and this was no different. A thief wanting gold, an assassin of a jealous man who's woman he happened steal; he had seen it all before.

Kumiho - What a dilemma... Run for it or play it off? Neither was a very good option. If she ran, the chances of her actually getting away in her condition were pretty much zero. But she casually came out from her smelly hiding spot between trash bins, what would she do? Say "whoops, you caught me!", have a good laugh and then go about their merry ways? She thought not. She took a moment to take inventory of herself. No weapons, terrible pain, lack of options. Wonderful. She sat a few more moments, silently trying to think of a way to slip by him. But, alas, there was really no way out of confronting him unless she attempted to run. She eyeballed the wooden fence at the end of the alley. It likely lead to another street, giving her a chance to slip into the evening crowd. I could scale that... she thought to herself. And she had a straight shot to it from her hiding spot too! The more she looked at it, the better it seemed - like a hungry man staring down a sub-par meal. With her mind made up, Ku made a mad dash for the fence, trying desperately to ignore the screaming pain that shot up her spine with every unfortunately footfall she made. She was running out of breath within seconds of her sprint but she continued on. It seemed like the alley went on forever. For a second, she even forgot what she was running from. But then reality snapped back into place and she glanced back, hoping she was miles away from the stranger by now.

La Volpe's hindsight had seen the dash coming; like an animal that was being cornered they had seen no other option, and in one movement Volpe was over the fence and the dagger withdrawn from it's sheathe. He, although probably much older than the other, in her weakened form he would be gaining on her, the distance between them getting smaller and smaller with each step. Brown hues kept a lock on the other's legs, watching, waiting for the right moment then...holding the dagger by the tip of the blade he threw it in a powerful over shoulder throw, aiming for the crook of one of her legs or at least somewhere close. His running had slowed as he regained himself from the throw, waiting now to see if his hit had landed before picking up the pace again.

Kumiho had turned just to look just in time to see him fling the dagger at her, but not in time to try and move out of its path. The next she knew, there was a dagger buried in her calf. Predictably, she couldn't help but cry out in pain, dropping her forced voice and giving a hint to the female under the masculine guise. It wasn't very often that she was at the receiving end of a blade and the shock of the pain made her leg stop responding just enough to send her knees, arm and face into the road with a little skid. Instinct kicked in immediately, though not for the better. She pulled the knife from her leg and clench the wound. But hearing him approach drew her attention away from the wound. She shot him a angry glare, but said nothing. She couldn't think of anything to say. Her only thoughts were: I'm in trouble...

La Volpe knew well enough that she could not possibly get up and run after having a knife embedded into her calf. Face was caught somewhere between a frown and surprise; it hadn't taken him long to get tailed, a new record perhaps! He sauntered over to her fallen frame, grabbing her roughly by the collar and pulling her to her feet - the mask causing whatever gentleness he would of given to be mistaken for the likes of a man - free hand clenched into a fist just in case the stranger needed a little help in talking. "Who are you?" He gazed hard into the eyeholes of the mask, "And why do you wear the mask of a volpe?" He was sure whether to feel proud or angry that someone wore something similar to what he did. "Who are you hiding from with that mask?" Volpe made the movements to remove the mask, pondering the importance of the stranger's identity.

Kumiho grunted and groaned as he dragged her up and made her stand on the wounded leg. Now, she was really, really in trouble. In her head, she cursed and berated herself for putting herself in this position. And it was a position she wasn't terribly familiar with. She didn't have the razor-sharp wit or cunning that would allow her to sweet talk her way out of sticky situations - but to hell if she wasn't going to try! She answered his questions in the order they came; all with the forced, breathy voice she talked in when masking her naturally feminine tone. "No one of importance." She met his gaze with her own. Those silvery blue things giving away the immense pain and panic. "If you want to know about the mask, I'm afraid you'll have to buy me a drink. It's a looooong story." Sarcasm practically dripped from her words, but the humor was cut short when he reached up take grab at the mask. "Don't you dare," she growled, in a much more serious voice. La Volpe snatched the dagger from where ever she had kept it, wiping the blood from the blade onto one of her trouser legs and sheathing it again, making sure that she could not use it against him. A smirk danced across his olive features, hand remained suspended in the motion of removing the mask. "Oh?" Tone pitched in interest. "If you were no one importante, you would not care for me to see your face. There must be a reason you hide it away, signor, unless you are unfortunately brutto." He brought her up and pressed her up against a near by wall, grasp tight across her collar and hand curling around the lip of the mask. "I could buy you a drink or two, mister. You need not tail me just to get one from me, I am a generous man." He played along with her sarcastic tone with a playful one of his own.

Kumiho snorted at his comments about her wearing the mask. Naturally, she didn't understand all the words he used, but the context of them could only lead to passing insults, she assumed. "Maybe there is, but why would it be important for you to know who's underneath?" Answering questions with questions, what a fun game. Having to deal with pain and conversation at the same time, it was hard to think of a next move. She considered using the first resort that most females used against a male - a blow to the jewels. But with the mask on she couldn't judge where her knee was in relation to him. Plus, a failed attempt at such was likely to end up with a less-than-favorable beating. "Who's to say I'm not just a curious passersby? Or maybe it was your lady friend I was following. Your assumptions are rather arrogant." La Volpe seemed to have read her mind, as his hand shifted so that his forearm pushed her throat against the wall, hard enough for her not to wriggle free but loose enough to let her breathe and talk. The other hand went to find that fresh wound, index and middle fingers finding the gap that the blade would have made and gave a quick press to it. "I am not stupid, my friend. That lady was just a puttana that worked in the brothels. She holds no importance." Hand remained touching the wound, adding only a small amount of pressure. "So, anyone that would have been tailing us, would have been tailing me, si? Besides, who wouldn't send someone out after a wealthy noble men, hmm? It seems to be common practice nowadays."" And then, at the arrogant comment, he gave a little chuckle. "It is part of my charm, signor. The ladies certainly don't seem to mind it." Volpe's smile remained, but his eyes flared with seriousness. "Now then, back to business. Just tell me who you are, what you are doing, and I might let you go. If not, I'll just have to reintroduce you to my blade. I don't think you two properly met."

Kumiho coughed a bit with the sudden pressure on her throat. But when he went to re-attack the wound he had made on her leg, her mind really went into panic mode and she was struggling to keep herself in check. She was in no condition to be in this kind of predicament. A startled cry echoed behind her mask in all its girlish glory. Tears sprung up against her will, though she managed to keep herself from sobbing like a fool. Pain on top of pain on top of pain. That was definitely not something she was used to. But she couldn’t betray her guild, and was going to refuse to speak of it until the bitter end if need be. Still, little details wouldn't hurt for now. She hesitated at first. "I'm a thief, that much is true.Who I am is not to be spoken. I'm only tailing you out of curiosity." That was half lie, but hopefully good enough to pass. La Volpe's lips spread into a satisfactory smile. Oh, how he enjoyed that sound. Eyebrows raised in surprise at the stranger's voice, however, and how many octaves it had increased by. "Say, you're not quite a signor so much as a signorina, si? Clever disguise, my friend. Even I was fooled." He let a little of the pressure off, fingers hovering threateningly over the wound in case she tried something funny. "A thief, eh? Just some petty thief wanting to steal from the pockets of the rich? I don't believe you. Petty thieves don't use get-ups. Come on, signorina, you are only making it harder for yourself." Pressure was reapplied, hand tightening around the wound like a vice grip. "I could sit and do this all night. It's one of my favourite past times. But I can't let you bleed out into the street, now, can I? Perhaps if you are a little nicer I'll take you to a doctor and get you seen to."

Kumiho was trying so hard to keep her mouth shut. She had thought herself to have such a high tolerance to pain, but here she was driven to the brink by one of the most basic plays in the book of torture. "I'll take that as a compliment." She groan as he went right by to playing her wound. A passing hunch was telling her that perhaps he was the man that she was supposed to be targeting... No ordinary man would go through this much trouble or know how to do these things - nobleman or not. And she wasn't absolutely certain it was him anyway. That was all the more pressure to not break. But the pain! "I'm-" she bit her lip, "hired..." That was all she said before decided she had said enough. She decided to go with her earlier plan and go for the groin. But with her blind spot, she was more likely going to aim too low and hit his thigh or too high and get him in the gut.

La Volpe was certainly not an ordinary man! As no ordinary nobleman would indeed not know how to torture information out of another. But who he was remained a mysterious to everyone he met, each identity different from the last. Quite like the femme before him, he'd rather keep his true occupation a secret, lest they know they were quite similar. "Hired for--" He was cut off from the blow of her knee, thankfully missing his precious jewels but catching him in the abdomen. The absence of armor meant that he was met with the full force of the blow, and despite being physically fit it managed to catch him off guard. His grip slipped away from her as he tried to catch his breath. "Ah...bastardo..." He growled through gasps of air, recovering moderately though his side still stung - maybe even bruise. What a punch this girl could land!

Kumiho was thankful her blow had landed. Even if it wasn't where she was aiming, she took what she could get. She mustered all the strength she had left to push him off and make a run for it for the second time. She considered ducking into a crowded shop or tavern, taking off her mask and trying to blend but the huge racoon eye makeup she used to black out her eye area would probably grab his attention. He wasn't a gullible idiot like many of the others she had dealt with. He was going to notice her in a crowd. She ran guided by instinct -and panic- but with a limp thanks to the overworked wound on her calf. And with her heart racing, a nice blood trail was left where ever she went. Eventually, she ducked into a different alley and collapsed against a wall. She didn't bother to see if he followed, only ran with the prayer that she'd lose him.

La Volpe steadied himself against the other wall as he was pushed, letting her get away while he caught his breath. "What a woman." He muttered to himself, laughing, "I've never seen a signorina hit like that before." Cutting the chatter to himself quickly he followed the traces of blood out into the street. But the crowds made it impossible to follow whatever blood was left. He considered very briefly returning to his abode and retrieving his own mask and weapons - and armor, in case she tried the jewel trick again - but by then in might be too late. She could easily change her own attire, remove the mask and walk freely among the streets past him. "Cazzo." Soon he found himself scaling the rooftops, catching just a glimpse of the girl as she sped off into some other alley, bounding and leaping over the buildings and their obstacles like a madman. "Here kitty, kitty. I won't hurt you, micino gatto..." Volpe would say as he dropped into the alley way he believed her to be hiding in, Italian accent rolling off his lips like syllables of soft velvet wrapped in the deep purrs of a sensual beast; some sort of coy to luring her out, of course not, an attempt of faking her out, or at least intimidating her in some way. He'd remain unarmed for now, the blade on his back and in his boot would come in handy should she try to strike at him. Kumiho, hearing his voice approaching, quickly inspected this new alley for a place to hide. But it had little to offer. But she had to get away and soon; her strength was starting to go. She felt woozy. All she had was a clothesline, a barrel of rain runoff and all the trash cans a girl could ever ask for. So she did the one thing she could do: a makeshift makeover. Though it was disgusting, she removed her mask to wash the black from her face in the rainwater. She stripped to her undies in record time, changing into a shirt and loose shirt from the clothesline. She dumped her clothing in the trash -it was bloody anyway- but there was no way she could leave the mask. That was far too important to her. So she gathered more clothes from the line, carrying them as any lady would when getting her laundry from the line. Buried in it, her precious mask. She did her best to walk casually down the alley as just any-other-chore-doer, even managing to hide the limp... mostly. It was an extraordinarily risky move; she had never let anyone see her face. Not even her trusted allies. If he found her now, he would know more about her than most of her allies and enemies combined. But if she kept running with her mask on, she would be just that much easier to pinpoint. Her hasty plan was far from flawless, however. Her one oversight being the biggest: a growing bloodstain on the back of the skirt.

La Volpe kept cautious, walking in slow, deliberate steps as he rounded the corner...only to be confronted by a woman with folds of laundry. "Mi spiace." He gave a polite bow on his way past, checking the near by trash cans and nooks and crannies for any hiding felines. Perhaps the lady had seen something. As he turned to ask for help, he'd spot that dark stain, funnily enough right where he had thrown the dagger into the femme's leg. Cursing himself inwardly but smiling outwardly, he approached the lady with a trot. "Mi susci. Have you seen a woman around here? She's injured and I am so terribly worried about her. She got so frightened that she ran off, please, I need to find her." He was a good actor, not failing to put on a good show. Though he had another trick up his sleeve should she find her way past this one.

Kumiho, for a moment, thought her clever plan had worked! He was passing her by! Or... not. Curse him! She did her best to act her part as well, not wanting to let him get the upper hand. She gave him an annoyed look and allowed herself to speak in her own voice now. "What am I, a babysitter now? First I'm sent to fetch a neighbor's laundry and how I have to look after a date gone bad?" She was doing her best to sound genuinely annoyed. That didn't take too much effort, not surprisingly. "Men these days are forgetting how to treat a lady. Always talking bad about them and forcing them to do this and that!" She continued to ramble on about nothing, trying to walk away from him all the while. Why was it all these alleys were so long?

La Volpe was genuinely surprised at the response. He hadn't seen this reaction coming! "Susca, sigorina." He'd give another bow. "I did not mean to upset you. I was just curious to know if you had seen her. I did not mean to burden you with my troubles..." He watched her walk away for a moment, before catching up to her. "Here, sigorina. Let me take that for you. It looks awfully heavy. Your neighbor must not appreciate you." He'd chuckle as he went to take the bundle of clothing from her, all in a generous act of kindness of course. "And besides," He'd lean in a little closer just to say a little quieter, "That injured leg of yours must be hard to walk on."

Kumiho- "No, I've got it." She scrambled for more to say, some excuse to make him go away. But before she could, his last comment struck her into silence. "Fine," she said with a heavily sigh. She shoved the pile of laundry into his arms. She buried her arm in it, pulling her mask out from within it. She looked at it sadly before dropping down to one knee, as her guild dictated was customary in a surrender or to admit defeat. "You win. I don't have the strength to play cat and mouse anymore." She clenched at her wound, finally able to put pressure on it. She looked up at him, clearly upset and weary, and awaited his actions - whatever they may be. La Volpe remained quiet at her defeat, waiting 'till she had finished her surrender before actually doing anything. The piles of laundry where discarded onto the floor behind him, forgotten and unneeded, as he bent onto one knee and placed a hand upon one of the feline's shoulders. "Sigorina...We should get you to a doctor before that wound of yours gets any worse, hmm?" He spoke with a kindness not yet used before, "My intention is not to kill you...Maybe not now anyway." He paused to give a faint chuckle, "I, uh, apologize for stabbing you. I let my instincts get the better of me sometimes." Another chuckle ensued as he rose to his feet, offering the femme a hand up. "Come on now, let me help you. It's the least I can do, after stabbing you and all."

[There was a pause here so the transition is a just slightly off]

La Volpe had remained relatively quiet as they reached the doctor's building, He'd offer the femme help to walk, even gentlemanly enough to offer to carry her should her leg be too painful to walk on. He felt somewhat bad for stabbing a woman...such thing wasn't something he did regularly but tried not to live by morals; they could get in the way of his chosen occupation. In any case, he let the doctor do his thing, the wound deep enough to need some stitching but not deep enough to be a serious wound. It could leave a scar, he would say, depending on how she looked after it as it healed. Volpe paid whatever fees and asked for a little time to talk to the girl, all done out of the way of Kumiho. He'd enter the room she was in, closing the door quietly behind her. "How are you feeling?" His eyes traveled to her injured leg then back to her face. "Again...I am sorry for inflicting the wound. If I had known..." He hesitated for a moment. "...If I had known had not you did not mean me any physical harm I would not have thrown the knife." Volpe offered a sort of half-smile. "Now, down to business. What were you doing, ladro? I know you are no petty thief. You are something more...serio. What did you want from me?" He'd lean against one of the doctor's medicine counters, crossing his arms across his chest, brown eyes kept upon her. Asayl was able to hobble along on her own - for about ten minutes before having to reluctantly accepting help. As the panic from the chase wore off, her flaws set in. She was hemophobic and struggled with the fact that she was bleeding. As the doctor worked, she kept her eyes shut tight. Her stomach turned at the very thought of there being blood on her but she somehow managed to keep from vomiting or passing out. At her request, the wound was heavily bandaged to that she wouldn't have to see it or any blood that may escape the stitches. As Volpe entered the room, she took it upon herself to put on a tough front again. She shot him a hard look. She snorted at his apology, obviously very upset that he had injured, outfoxed and unmasked her. "Still so arrogant," she huffed. "I told you already: I was tailing you out of curiosity. I've taken a job to get something from someone who has an accent like yours. So when I heard you speak to that girl, it caught my attention. For all I know, you're just some whore-loving man with a funny accent. Chances of you actually being who I'm after are slim. And besides, I'm no killer. I'm just a thief." She took a deep breath, still trying to steady herself a bit. She muttered under her breath. "Being out done by some kook in an alley... getting me to take my mask off... stupid!"

La Volpe did not break off his own stare nor loose his smile as she turned his way; such games were amusing to play. "Mi sucsi. I doubt I am the only man with a weakness to foreign ladies. As for my funny accento, well, you ladies are just the same with foreign men." Smile morphed into a lopsided grin as he rolled his shoulders some. "A kook? I am hurt. Surely I appear to be more than some crazy turistica. Business would not do well if I was but a kook." He quickly regained from the derailed conversation, eyes averted to the fox mask, where ever she may of sat it. "The mask. Why do you wear it? What sort of meaning does it have?" He'd lean off of the counter, sauntering slowly over to her, towards her mask, taking in the detail, still surprised at the seeming coincidence. But nothing was a coincidence, was it?

Asayl didn't like the way he talked. Not just the funny accent, but the emphasis he used and the very words themselves. Even if he hadn't caught her in the leg with a dagger, torment her and chase her down, she probably would not have liked him. Before he could get the conversation back on track, she managed to spit, "sane people don't throw daggers when someone tries to run from them." As he approached her, she snapped up her mask from beside her and move it to a more protected spot: her lap. "The same reason anyone would wear a mask. I don't want anyone to see my face when I work. I'd rather not have to worry about the constant threat of being stalked for revenge when I'm not working." She paused for a moment, looking a little embarrassed. "The meaning behind it is a long story. It's none of your business."

La Volpe, however, found the femme quite interesting indeed. A little firecracker with a silver tongue to boot, it wasn't often you met a lady that could hold her own. At least, not where he came from anyway. "And what is sane to you, signorina? Those that do not wield weapons for the sake of security, or at least know how to wield a weapon?" He threw his arms open into a wide, over-exaggerated shrug. "I am insane for knowing how to wield a blade. So be it." His tone was cavalier. "But that is not why I am still here. You are hiding something, signorina, I know you are." He'd lean in close to her, eyes squinted as if he were attempting to peer right into her soul. "You are not who you say you are. My instincts tell me you are something...something quite pericoloso."

Asayl would have had a weapon if she hadn't been heading home from a non-job-related task when she chanced upon him! She wanted to argue that, but held her tongue. Maybe the less that came from his mouth, the better. Besides, when someone says their many weapon is a stick, they tend to get laughed at. "Oh course I'm hiding something," she said with a 'duh' look on her face. "Just because you got the better of me doesn't mean I'm going to spill every detail of who I am and what I do to you. That would be idiotic." Then she decided it was her turn to ask questions. "And what about YOU, hmm? Why so interested in me - in my mask? You're just as pericoloso as I am!" Naturally, she completely mispronounced the foreign word.

La Volpe smirked, standing tall at his full height, gazing away from her. "Of course not. Where is the fun in that?" He glanced back at her, "I just love squeezing out information. And if you are not willing to part with it eventually...I have my ways. You don't think I'm going to let you go and wave you off, now, would you? I'm sure we'll be spending lots of time together." He emphasized 'lots' quite strongly, squinting his eyes in a mock-evil manner. Volpe laughed quietly, though did not correct her. "I could be very dangerous indeed. It depends on how you look at it." He paused for devious chuckle. "But because I know how to fight makes me dangerous. I could be a humble nobleman for all you know. So, la mia piccola volpe, what do you know about me?"

Asayl scoffed. After what had happened, she knew he wasn't just talking big. But still, she didn't quite buy his act - nasty laughs or not. She stood, injured leg giving out for a split second, though she righted herself in time to not look totally lame. Spending 'lots' of time with him was the last thing she wanted. "Hmph, you expect me to spill my guts but you won't play fair. What a gentlemen you turned out to be." She eyed the door. There were others around... if she cried out would people come to her aid? She imagined the doctor was at least a little suspicious of the circumstances that she and the man had entered. She decided to be a little daring and push her luck. It could work... maybe. She started to walk across the room toward the exit, limping but confident. "I don't intend to play your little games. I told you all that you need to know. You've had your fill, pig, now go back to your sty." . La Volpe allowed her to step forward, thinking that she was not intending to leave the room. However, as she made her way towards the door, he found himself leaning quite contently at the door frame, arm across the door in such a way that he looked as though he was just casually leaning against it but was in fact blocking her escape. "Me? Un porco? Not quite the resemblance I would have made. I would of thought more of a cat, maybe...a fox. But that is another matter." He gave a cheery sort of smile. "I am far from full, amore mio, and far from done with you. Now, shall we leave? I am sure the dottore needs to tend to other patients." Volpe moved from the door in one fluid movement, standing beside her now, one arm draped across her shoulders and squeezing it tight. "The night is still young. Come, I'm sure a couple of drinks will loosen that sharp tongue of yours." He'd begin to guide her out of the door, thanking the doctor and keeping a firm grip on the girl as the entered the streets.

Asayl gave him another sharp look as he casually blocked her way. She was starting to grow very, very suspicious of him. She couldn't tell if the fox comment was meant to mock her or enlighten her but she decided it was safe to not ask. when he put his arm around her, she flinched quite noticeably. This was not going the way she wanted, not at all. She stayed silent until they were back on the street. If he was dangerous, she guessed it was better not to repay the doctor for his work by putting him in harm's way. But once out, she talked again. "I don't drink," she announced sternly. This was a fact. Alcohol did not mix well with her in the least. "So, you're going to keep an innocent girl captive now? You're being awfully concerned about letting a girl who doesn't know who you are go. So I guess that means you're hiding something too, aren't you?"

La Volpe snapped the fingers of his free hand together in a 'well, damn!' manner. "How sad. You are missing a lot in life. Don't tell me, you're a Catholic too?" He'd offer a single raised eyebrow and another smirk. "Please, you are mistaking me. I only want to make it up to you. It's not everyday I get to stab a gentildonna." He'd then give a dark, devious look. "I could be. Or maybe I want to seem pericoloso to make you think I am hiding something. Oh, the possibilities!" Free arm was thrown up in the air in a wide arc. Asayl didn't reply to his joking comments. She only stared at him with a half-unamused, half-disgusted look that only the most unhappy people in the universe could produce. "You're a bad liar. If you were really just trying to make it up to me, you wouldn't have mentioned squeezing information out of me or spending lots of time with me." She suddenly stop walking, putting on a more serious face. She was catching on now. She worked with others like him, after all. There was definitely a chance that he was the one she was targeting after all. "I may not know exactly who or what you are, but I know you're games." Any attempt of him trying to put his arm back around her or touch would be met with immediate and fierce resistance. La Volpe would pout. "My dear, there is more than one way to take a man's comments." Though he would hesitate before waving dismissively. "But you're a little young for my tastes. Mi sucsi." Another eyebrow was raised now that she was getting serious, and he dared not try to put his arm around her again. It would be like putting his hand into a box of angry, poisonous snakes. "And what, signorina, games are those? If you care not to beat around the bush, why not just come right out and say it? It's not like I cut your tongue or anything." Volpe walked a little further on then stopped, turning on his heel to face her with a look of seriousness, one that had not been worn since the chase.

Asayl was silent for a moment, still with that tense-jawed look of seriousness. "Lying, double talk, being passively intimidating so that you remain in control with less chance of your victim lashing out at you. You're like us, aren't you?" 'Us' being her guild - the band of thieves and assassins she worked with. Her silver eyes locked squarely with his. "You do dirty deeds for money. I bet you even hide your face, just like me. I bet I can even guess your name." She started walking again, this time to pass him and continue down the road. If she turned and pointed and shouted his name, everyone passing nearby would hear. "Would you like to hear my guess?" La Volpe frowned, not quite knowing who 'us' were, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. She was really onto him now, a wildfire that had spread and now was out of control. There was no way he could weasel his way out of this one. A dark look crossed his face as she goaded him, a quick and dangerous saunter narrowed the distance between them, now standing merely inches away, bundling the scruff of her collar in his fist like he had done before and drew her ever closer to his face. Although the action might of seemed aggressive, he was being more than gentle with her. "Go on then, signorina." He spoke quietly, threateningly, "Who am I?" Asayl didn't bother to move as he closed in on her. She could play games too. She allowed him to get uncomfortably close and then closed the gap between them by giving him a sort of hug, hands placed on the backside of his shoulders to push him against her. To any passing drunkard, it may have looked like she was encouraging a kiss. At least with his hands up where she could see, she didn't have to worry so much about suddenly being attacked with that damn dagger again. She move to her nearly cheek to cheek with him, whispering in his ear rather than shouting aloud. "Where's your mask, La Volpe?" A part of her almost hoped she was wrong.

La Volpe was surprised at her actions, not quite sure what brought on this sudden urge for closeness after wanting to repel him for so long. Then, he almost felt his pupils dilate at the soft whispered name. How the hell did she know? With elegant swiftness he had thrown the femme around the corner into another alley way, keeping a hold of her collar as he backed her up roughly against the wall. Other hand went for that dagger she had been acquainted with on the small of his back, withdrawing it and putting it to her neck with almost lightning speed. "How..." It was an almost predatory growl, "How do you know, ladro?" Teeth bared as he fought hard to keep his anger sated, though the best idea would be just to slit her throat to keep his secret, there must be a link somewhere. Someone else might of told her, and killing her would only make the trail cold.

Asayl grunted as she was pushed back into the wall. It still hurt scrambling back on her lame leg and hitting the cold stone wall but at least she had braced for it properly. It was a nifty thing she had picked up from an assassin friend, holding and enemies shoulders to feel for when their muscles tense to signal a coming movement. She would have to thank him for that later if she managed to get home in one piece. The knife at her throat had her concerned. Still, it was her turn to smile. She got it right, it seemed. Too bad he didn't have what she needed with him or maybe she would have moved a little faster. "It's a secret," she cooed. "But it seems like we're even now. I've seen your face and you've seen mine." She didn't make an attempt to fight back just yet.

La Volpe hadn't actually planned on using the knife, it was more of an intimidation method...which had obviously failed. Teeth gritted against the femme's playing, not liking it now that the tables had been turned on him. "True. We are even." His eyes would narrow, "But I am still not letting you go until you tell me what I want to know. You still have your use...for now." His accent remained the same, giving his voice that smooth, velveteen touch despite his obvious anger. "Now come, ladro. Let us not play anymore games. Tell me your intentions. I grow tired of this balleto we are dancing. Tell me, and you can have your leave." The cold steel of the knife pressed softly against her flesh and fur, soft enough not to harm but still make its presence known. Asayl's coy grin grew wider. Maybe there was something fun to all this rough stuff she avoided after all. She was genuinely excited now that she had the upper hand. "Oh, now you want to stop playing games? What happened to all the fun and smiles from when you were toying with me? I thought you liked games." In the back of her mind, she was trying to conjure up a way to get out of this without slipping him anymore clues as to what she was after. Fighting back while unarmed was out. Running... well, that didn't work the first time so definitely not now. Maybe she could schmooze her why out by playing the seduction card? He wasn't too hard on the eye after all. She pondered. "And if I still have my uses, why so cruel as to hold a knife to my throat? That's very rude of you."

La Volpe frowned again. He knew he was loosing control of the situation and was beginning to panic. She was on a roll and he didn't know how to stop her. Then, out of the blue that wry smirk returned, knife hesitant to return to its sheathe. "Oh, I do like games. But I like to be in control. I am a controlling messere after all, just like you said." He'd then loosen himself off, removing the knife from her throat. "Very well, signorina. I will play your games. Let's have a little fun, eh?" He'd snort, "It's not rude to pull a knife on un porco when they are to be slaughtered. Only, this little porco wriggled its way out of the pen and has had a taste of freedom." Asayl- Phew! It was a wonderful feeling to not be in immediate danger of having a slit throat. There was still the matter of just getting away from him somehow. But that posed its own problems. He didn't know her alias or her real name, but with a few well-placed questions, it wouldn't be too terribly hard to find the name of the thief with the black and silver fox mask. This whole situation was leading down some dangerous roads. "What happened to what you said about not wanting to kill me?" She leaned back against the wall comfortably now that he had backed off. "You're going back on everything you say, Volpe. And here thought you were a more honest man. Really, if we are on even terms now we should be a little nicer to one another. I'm very nice when I'm not being threatened." She eyed him less tensely now. It was almost a friendly look.

La Volpe smiled now. "I never said I was going to kill you. Threatening someone with a knife and actually slitting someone's throat are different stories, don't you think? Don't make me sound like a disonesto messere." Arms would open up in a somewhat friendly gesture, like he was about to bring her into a hug. "That sounds fiera to me. All this threatening isn't very gentiluomo of me. What say we talk it out, like civilized persone, mm?"

Asayl- Good, he's smiling again. She was learning it was much easier to deal with him when he was smiling. She didn't push the threat things anymore, despite her urges to point out all his implied threats. "Yes, let's." She finally pulled herself off the wall to take hold of his hand and urge him back into the street - back to where she knew he wouldn't just up and kill her at the drop of a hat. The little prance in her step hurt her sore leg but she endured. At least it was distracting her mind from her other pains, likely from riding the adrenaline rush. She looked back at him with an impish grin and a suggestive shimmer in her eye as she mentally prepared herself for what she planned on doing. "Take me somewhere, Volpe."

La Volpe was impulsive and unpredictable at best. However, when deciding the fate of another he tried to be a bit more reasonable. He'd glance down at his hand as hers slipped into it, offering a confused frown of sorts. The sudden change in attitude was nice, but he couldn't help but feel that she had some sort of ulterior motive...but he said nothing. He'd wait it out, just going along until he knew for sure. "Where would you like to go, amore mia? You have already mentioned that you do not drink, so a tavern is out of the question. A walk through a quiet park, perhaps? Or is there anywhere nice you would like to visit?"

Asayl shrugged in a pseudo-carefree way. "This is a strange city to me. It's my first night here. Maybe you know where things are? You just have to promise to not drag me through anymore alleys. I'm not very fond of the smell of garbage." She glanced down at herself, just to reminder herself what she looked like at the moment. Right, a frumpy peasant top, a bloody skirt and a fox mask. That wasn't exactly night-on-the-town wear. "Maybe somewhere more... secluded. I'm not dressed for the occasion, obviously." La Volpe chuckled some. "I promise. Alleyways aren't the nicest of places in any sort of occasion." The more she spoke the more he was sure about ulterior motives, but again to couldn't be too sure. She had already somewhat admitted to 'being like him', without actually admitting to it. She was a dodgy sort of gal, much like himself, full of double meanings and facades; he could never be too careful. "Isolato, you say? That only makes me wonder what is going through that head of yours." He'd glance at her with grin. "I am new to this city as well, but I pretty much have the most important areas learned." He needn't say what these areas were. "Come, then. Let's go for a wander." Volpe would take her away from the heart of the city, having already commented on her own dress sense he figured she didn't want to be seen by the social community of the city. Volpe would take her to a public garden of sorts, surrounded by the ruins of a once previous settlement that was strangled by vines, a cobbled path cutting through the center with different off turnings around the ruins and flora. Flowers bloomed in their radiant colours, though in the setting of the sun they had closed over, hiding their fragile organs from the darkness settling in. Lanterns had been lit throughout the course of the path, the halos of those further ahead obscured by the blossom and red maple leaves of the trees.

Asayl smirked with a little tee-hee of a giggle as he led her off. She spent most of the walk plotting out her moves and planning for if something went astray between the idle (maybe awkward) chitchat that took place. But Volpe was a smart man. He wasn't going to be tricked so easily. Never the less, she had to give something a shot or she was never going to be able to get home. When they arrived at where they were going, she was impressed. Such a beautiful garden! Her love of all thing flora almost made her melt. Composure! she shouted in her head. She wandered over to a long-still fountain choked with lily pads and singing with frogs. She took a seat on its edge and motioned for him to come over, patting the space next to her. "So, let's talk."

La Volpe was not about to allow her to stray him from what he wanted to know - he knew that she would try every trick in the book to get out of this awkward situation. He would try to remain as positively focused on what he wanted to know rather than letting the conversation slip. At the offer he'd come to lean on the lip of the fountain, arms folded casually across his frame. "Yes, let's talk. Now then, little ladro, why don't we start off with what you actually know about me, mm?" He'd turn to give the femme beside him a sort of sidways glance, intent on keeping a watchful eye on her, on her movements, her body language; anything that would let him know what she might be thinking or planning on doing.

Asayl shrugged as he looked her way. She was going to have to keep an eye on him too if she didn't want to find a blade in his again. "Funny you should ask that," she chuckled. Just to draw the moment out, she leaned back on her lands, letting her legs stretch out -though cautiously with the injured one- and across at the ankles. "I don't actually know much about you. All I know is that there is a masked assassin much like me, fox mask and all. Only, he has a very distinct accent, very much unlike me, and he calls himself La Volpe. And that is the extent of what I know." La Volpe's mind would wander to thoughts about his own mask. How it was sitting in a locked box underneath his bed at the inn he was staying at, along with all his other assassin equipment. A hand would begin to play with a ruffle at the end of his shirt. Despite his previous boasting about having a foreign accent, it also proved to be one of his downfalls, especially in an unknown land like this. "Hmm..." Was his only response for now, remaining in thought. The information she had was pretty basic, but enough to find a trail of some sort. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, signorina. You say you are 'like me', which I presume to be that you are an assassino, or something of the sort. May I ask, are you involved in a guild of that nature?" He paused for a moment. "I was attacked by a thief who had claimed to have come from a guild...Esoteric, I believe." It had been hard work trying to squeeze that piece of information out of him, and possibly resulted in his death. That, among other things of course. "And that has led me here. And strangest of all things, I am attacked in this city too, by none other than another ladro." Volpe turned now to look at her, coy smile on his lips. "So, signorina, do you have any connections to this guild?"

Asayl's cheery expression faded for a few seconds to some sort of uncertain face. All their conversations felt like they were a race. "I think I've already told you everything about me by now. And I've already said that I am not a killer. I'm a thief. Just a thief. That is the honest truth." She may have sounded a little offended. She didn't like being accused of murder, even under the context of being an assassin. Her ears perked slight at the mention of Esoteric. Ah, the guild leaders were not going to be happy that their name had been spilled. "I do work with a guild, yes. It's hard getting work as a lone thief. But the name of it isn't really something I'm willing to tell you, unfortunately." Crap, she was slipping away from her plan of action. "But what does any of that even matter," she asked in a sing-song tone. She shimmied herself over closer to him, though not quite touching him. "It's too nice of a night to talk about such dirty things."

La Volpe always wondered why people referred to the jobs of assassins and like-minded people as 'dirty'. Under the context, perhaps, but he had never connected his occupation to the likes of filth or other degrading factors. Maybe it was because he worked close with such things; maybe not. "I never expected you to tell me anything about them, signorina. All I needed was that link." He'd smile again, though it quickly faltered some as she shuffled towards him. Shooting her a quick glance now, wondering what she was up to. It might be one of her tricks, or perhaps she was just being friendly. There was no way to tell at the moment, but Volpe couldn't help but feel cautious. "What would you rather talk about, then?" Asayl- "Well, who you kill and where they're from doesn't really matter to me. It's not my concern." The second sentence was in a cheery tone. She noticed the drop in his smile and teased him about it. "Oh what's this? You don't want the company of a pretty lady like me now that I'm being nice? Or maybe you're the type who likes to be rough up by women?" She laugh aloud. "Don't worry, Volpe, I don't bite. I told you I wasn't a killer, right? I'm not much of a fighter either to be honest!" Was that a lie? Maybe. Maybe that knee to the gut was just a fluke, a lucky shot by a panicked cat. "Let's talk about you now. You know everything about me and all I know is your alter ego. So it's your turn to tell me about you. The real you, not the mask." She leaned, ever so slightly, toward him as she spoke.

La Volpe quickly offered her a sharp look, smirk twisting underneath. "Oh, I am not complaining. Though, usually when I chase a pretty woman I usually don't end up throwing a knife at her." He'd laugh, raising an eyebrow. "I like a rough woman as much as a gentle one. But that just depends on my mood, ultimately." He'd say nothing about her being a fighter, though. "All right then, signorina." Smirk morphed into a lopsided grin; he was up for playing her games, now. "What would you like to know about this fabled 'real' me? It is just as any nobleman's would be." Any nobleman that didn't play at an alter ego, that was. Asayl- "Yes, you really should work on not doing that anymore," she joked. She was annoying him, she could tell. But it was kind of fun annoying him so. "I'm very gentle. No really, I am!" She held her arms out in a limp, noodly fashion. "I don't have the strength to be rough." That was a lie though. Her usual outfit and the peasant top she currently wore did a grand job of hiding her toned arms. Still, she stuck with her story. "No it isn't. You're very different from any noble I ever met, except maybe in your fondness for drinking and chasing skirts. That seems to be a requirement of nobles. I want to know other things. No one just picks up any old mask and decides they want to be an assassin. So something must have happened to spur you into action."

La Volpe raised an eyebrow. "Some how a doubt that. You managed to evade me for quite some time, and got a nice kick in at me. Perhaps not strong enough to be rough, but you are definitely strong enough to put up a good fight." He wasn't going to let that slip away from him, whether she was trying to be annoying or not. "Drinking is an art form. That is a fact. How others like yourself do not take part confuses me so." He would grin, baring his teeth, "Chasing skirts. What an interesting phrase. Another art form, most definitely. The chase is usually the best part of the kill." Kill used in the non-literal sense. "Of course not. One that kills without reason is nothing more than a murderer. I have my reasons, and they remain as secret as your guild." He smirks, "I am allowed to keep mine, too. Besides, remaining dark and mysterious is always attractive." Asayl shifted all her weight to one hand so that the other could remain up to wave off his comments. "True enough, I guess. I'm much more apt to run than fight though. My strength was made for climbing, not throwing punches." She put her other hand back down and went right back to her reclined position. She let the conversation flow now, trying not to press him too hard though she was getting impatient about leaving. She didn't want him too get too riled up. "A shame to you, a nightmare to me," she pout-frowned, "alcohol works too quickly on me. I'm stupidly drunk after just one drink. So I stay away. It's not worth my time.” At mentioning that being dark was attractive, she couldn't help but sigh. "Yeah, I found that out a long time ago, thanks." It was an oddly misplaced comment but she quickly moved on. "If you won't talk about that, then tell me why you wear a fox mask. It doesn't seem like a fitting choice for you." La Volpe made a 'tsk' noise as he chuckled. "Yes. Such a shame indeed." He then frowned at the strange comment, offering a confused, "You're welcome." He thought about the fox mask again, wondering what she found so strange about the idea. She wore one herself, though their reasons where probably different. "What, would you prefer I wore one of un porco?" He joked, before getting serious, "I liken assassino to volpe. Quiet creatures, lurking in the shadows. Always seen as vile to common folk, but there is always something more to them. Creatures of lesser thinking know more about survival than we do despite us being of higher evolution, so to speak. The assassinos are not bound to morals, to law, to common thinking." Volpe paused, thinking. "Hence the name, too. La Volpe. The Fox. I find an odd biased liking to the vulpines more so than any other creature." Asayl rolled her eyes with a giggle. "It might be more appropriate." She listened to his explanation intently. Ah, so he just saw them as better than other animals. Playing favorites, who would've thought it was something so simple. It was far different from her long-winded story of betrayal and revenge. Not that that was something he needed to know. His sudden seriousness was dampening her plan though. Though it wasn't a very well laid play and dropping it was starting to seem like the more sane option. She didn't have the heart to try and seduce him. She wasn't going to be caught being unfaithful for some killer. Instead, she decided it was time to cut to the chase. "Well, now that we know each other a little better, I have to ask: what's it going to take for you to let me go home? Surely you have no more use for me." She was much more serious in both voice and expression now.

[We stopped but discussed the outcome from this OOC. Asayl is not allowed to leave at all. In fact, he knocks the everloving shit out of her and drags her off someone where she is bound and tortured for info for some time. There is a small fast forward. A new character, Nero, enters. She is Asayl’s best friend.]

La Volpe: The facade of the tavern did not reflect the room that they had been staying in. Rich colours of red, gold and purple decorated this master sized room, filled the most luxurious things the tavern owners could get their hands on. The king sized bed at the far end of the room even seemed small in comparison; a four-poster bed with crimson soft cotton sheets, semi-transparent purple drapes and an oaken frame that had been stained dark with polish. Cupboards and cabinets were like-wise, gold leaf making intricate patterns upon the doors, silver bowls and other expensive pieces of junk the owners thought would look nice. Whatever Volpe did as a second occupation, he was certainly good at it. Especially for Asayl was a large velvet chair, to which her wrists and ankles would be bound to when not up for one of her routine exercises. It was sat furthest away from any windows, cupboards; anything that she could use to set herself free. Her mask was sat upon a near by cabinet, propped up so its empty eye sockets would peer longingly at her. Just something Volpe found quite amusing. The Fox himself, on this particular morning, was sprawled across the bed, tobacco cigarette betwixt fingers as he casually exhaled smoke from his nostrils. "Buongiorno, singorina. I hope you slept well." He paused to allow a chuckle to rumble in his chest. "I hope today will be more progressive than it has been for the past couple. Surely by now you miss your home enough to divulge me on the information I want. If not, well, I have all the time in the world." He glanced at her from his lying position, grinning a Cheshire grin. "I'm sure a little more time together won't hurt." Eventually he would roll off from where he was, digging his bare toes into the thick carpet beneath them, strolling up to one of the windows. "I have an associate of mine coming here today. He will help keep an eye on you."

Asayl was not happy at all about her situation. Firstly for the stupid mistakes she had made that had gotten her there and secondly for the way she was bound to her luxurious prison without a plan of escape - or much chance at making one. The passing days crawled by a pace that could only be described as torture. But the way Volpe acted, he seemed to be enjoying every moment she was miserable. She would have pretended she was having the time of her life, just to annoy him, but she simply couldn't anymore. Without her usual comforts from home -and her friends and Pheno- it was hard to deal with the pain that constantly tormented her. She slept often just to make things easier on herself. At night, she was likely to keep Volpe awake with her pained whimpers and occasional sobs when the aches got really bad. When she was awake, she didn't talk much. She had talked herself out by the first night. Instead, she sat and and glared him with that certain kind of seething, intense hatred. The news that someone new was coming intrigued her, but pissed her off at the same time. She slumped over in the chair unhappily. Now she would never have a moment alone. She said nothing in response but simply made a grumpy noise to announce that she was peeved by the idea.

Alley Cat had just arrived in that very city only twenty minutes or so, and before making his way up to the room Volpe had with his prisoner, Cat had decided to wander around the interesting place. Not a moment he stepped off the boat he had come in on a group of young delinquents had pick-pocketed him of a few gold coins; so when he approached a food stall and found he was a few coin short he found himself being run off like a stray cat in a kitchen. A little disgruntled by the experience he decided he had enough of the sight-seeing and headed straight toward the tavern his mentor had decided to hole himself up in. After a few whispers with the bartender, he directed the mangy feline toward the room. With a small rapataptap of his knuckles against the door, Cat slipped into the well-decorated room. "Mentor," Cat gave a small, respectful bow before caramel eyes would flash toward the female. "Is this the prisoner, or have I walked in on something here?" Nero Of Wolves: Still she refused to give up, obviously very concerned for her friend and her unannounced absence. It worried her even still to find that the trail led her to a city, which usually held many dangers within itself Nero stopped and casually leaned against a nearby wall, giving a gentle shake of her head. Calm down and think, she said quietly to herself, or else you won t be any good for anyone. Where would she be if she were still here? The lycan thought hard, wondering if Asayl had any friends that she would stay with in the city. Still, that left the question of why she hadn’t left word. No, something was wrong. Her hand lifted and fumbled beneath her curls, bringing out a picture of Asa that she had kept beneath the fabric of her necklace, looking at it with a rather lost expression. Where are you she asked to the open air, only lifting her gaze to look around again. A tavern was across the street and to the right. She gave a little shrug, unsure of where else to look at this point. Besides, taverns were usually the places to go looking for someone, wasn’t it? Nero only hoped that these folks weren’t the unpleasant slurry types. Stepping into the tavern, she made her way to the bar and ordered a bit of gin and tonic, just enough to calm her nerves at least. Her eyes looked around, wondering what kind of place this was. Certainly was fancy.

La Volpe's attention was taken away from Asayl as Cat walked through, and at his words a little smirk danced across his lips as he glanced back to her. "Oh, no. Not interrupting anything, this time Gattino." He sauntered over to the chair Asayl sat in, leaning an arm around the back. "She is just a friend of mine. We're playing a little game. She won't give me information, so she's been tied here." He took another draw of his cigarette, blowing the smoke towards her as he got up and walked over to Cat. "She is the reason I summoned you. I need an extra pair of eyes to make sure she doesn't escape. She is one firecracker of a troia." At that he would finish the cigarette, the butt finding its way into a near by glass ashtray. "Keep your eye on her, Gattino. I mean it. She's a smart signorina." And before he disappeared behind the door he'd offer Asayl a little parting smile. Something to remember him by, of course. Volpe would find himself down at the bar, thirsty for something with a little kick despite the time of day. It wasn't like anyone was going to stop him. Another cigarette was lit up; something he didn't do unless stressed, and that was something Asayl was doing, even if he didn't make it far too obvious. Idly his free hand would run across the scar on his face, tracing the groove down towards his lip, deep in thought.

Asayl watched Cat enter, immediately giving him a viciously dirty look. She snorted as Volpe so rudely blow his smoke toward her, shaking her head a little to fan the stuff away. She hated smoke. But otherwise, she remained but a lump on the chair - silent and unhappy. A bit of a disgusted frown found its way to her lips as Volpe smiled at her from the door. She was silent for a long time after he had gone, ignoring this new figure that had been sent to watch her. But after what could appropriately be described as 'forever' according to how it felt, she finally turned to the cat for just enough time to take in what she looked like. Her voice was hoarse, whether from disuse or overuse was a mystery. "Mentor," she scoffed, "what a joke. That man is an arrogant piece of trash." She appeared to be talking to herself. Alley Cat watched as the human exited the room, before eyes returned to the fellow feline. There he stood for a few moments, watching her movements, body language before he would perch himself upon the end of Volpe's bed, not breaking his gaze. He waited for her to speak, though the first couple of moments it seemed she was going to play the silent game. That was okay, he could play that game too, and so he did; peering at the female contently in the silence. Ears twitched at the sound of her voice, and a small smirk coiled the corners of his lips. "Not fond of him, eh? You wouldn't be the first," Cat gave laugh that sounded more like he was getting strangled. "First it's 'Ohmigawd you're so beautiful, handsome, sexy' ... then it's BAM, you asshole! Blah blah blah. You should know, you're a female. You're all crazy like that," The tabby-like creature gave a small, disconcerting wave in her general direction. Though Cat was very fond, and grateful, to Volpe, his skills in seducing women was something he was ever envious of. Tail would flicker awkwardly behind him as he looked curiously at her, head tilting to right slightly.

Nero Of Wolves sat there for a while longer, becoming nervous again despite her efforts to calm herself. She had to keep moving if she were to have any hopes of catching Asayl's trail again, if there was any trace left to begin with. It was then that she smelled it, if only faintly through all the man musk and smoke that dwindled in the air around them, that familiar flowery scent of her dearest friend. She became more alert, though the lycan did so in a way so as not to draw too much attention to herself, pretending to fix her hair while she tried to get a better idea of where it had come from. Her eyes moved over to the man that had sat down only a moment ago, becoming suspicious, though she was only acting on a hunch. Nero had to move closer to find out for sure. Usually, speaking with strange men was out of the question, but nothing would come of it if she meekly stayed in her seat and simply waited for Asa to fall into her lap from the heavens. So, after a little pause, up she stood, taking her drink with her to stand beside the stranger. She offered him a smile, wondering if he was the type that liked to have a lady around each arm. It was risky, but at least she could get away if he wasn't the lead that she thought he might be. "You look like you could use some company. May I...?" Nero only hesitated briefly before taking a seat next to him, unwilling to be rebuffed so soon before she even had time to investigate further. "I'm sorry if you find me a little straightforward. I'm new here, you see..." Her hand moved to bring a bit of hair behind her ear as she spoke, playing a bit more of the 'blonde' than she would've liked, but this tactic usually worked. "My name's Nero," she added at last with a smirk.

La Volpe was pleasantly surprised at the encounter, turning slightly to face the stranger with a soft smile on his lips. "Not at all, signorina. I enjoy all the company I get." He'd purr, quite happy to find another humanoid after having come across so few in the city. "Il suo un piacere conoscerti...ah, excuse me. It is a pleasure to meet you, Nero." He'd offer a handshake, and if taken he would take the back of her hand to his lips; a formal greeting in his society. "You may call me...Angelo." Volpe lied easily through his teeth, "The more straightforward the better. I like a woman that can get straight to the point." Hand that had been touching his scar now patted the seat beside him that she was hovering beside. "What brings you to this city? If you do not mind me asking, if course." Volpe would smile again, leaning an one elbow onto the bar, the other in his lap as he held the cigarette away for her, in case she disliked such things. Asayl sat there with increasing discomfort. The very way Cat spoke grated on Asa, much like Volpe. Funny how things like that rub off. She wouldn't have said much more if he hadn't made the comment about women being crazy. He might of been on to something, but that doesn't mean that she couldn't be offended! For the first time in a week, she laughed. "How would you know? You don't look like the type to get very much attention from any sort of woman." There was no need for her to be nice to him, so she came right out and said it. As long as he didn't turn to torture like his lovely mentor did, she was going to say whatever she damn pleased. She shifted in her four-legged confines, trying to find a way to stop her restraints from digging in so harshly or at least to find some position tolerable for more than two minutes. She went about effectively ignoring Cat while she did this, not hearing many of his comments until after she had either settled or given up.

Alley Cat looked, for a fraction of a second, like he was about to fly right off the end of then bed and attack her, but he quickly regained his cool. "That's fine by me, I never really liked women anyway," Cat gave a casual shrug as he made himself comfortable again, "Females were always so vain, though if you throw a few coins at little sluts like you, looks don't really matter now, do they?" A large grin sprawled across his face as he looked smug with himself, thumb and index finger coming up to rub at one of his twisted whiskers. He didn't expect her to reply, thinking she might go back into the silent treatment again, so Cat made himself more comfortable on the bed, laying down upon his stomach with appendages sprawled, though his golden gaze never left her form. "So," He coughed, rolling slightly onto his side. "Whatcha do to make Volpe tie you up like this?" He thought a casual change in subject would hide his curiosity in the captured femme, though it was poorly disguised.

Nero Of Wolves immediately assumed that this man was from another country, judging by his accent. It wasn't often that she had such an opportunity to speak with foreigners, so she couldn't help her heart skipping a beat or two over it in her excitement. Her hand went to his, but it was during this time that she caught another clue, this time it was obviously coming from his clothing. Whoever this Angelo fellow was, he had made contact with Asayl quite recently. Her suspicions were correct after all. Though, how and why were other questions that needed answering, not to mention 'where was Asa?' With the introductions over with, she gave him a smirk and a nod in reply. "I see. Well if you like the straightforward type, then I will waste no time in asking what's really troubling me..." With that, she revealed the picture from her other hand, placing it on the counter and sliding it a little toward him as she did so. "I'm looking for this woman. She's about... oh," she gestured with her hand as she continued. "this tall... with a little bit of a limpy shuffly walk if she's feeling stiff. Her name's Asayl." Nero watched him with some interest to see if anything quirked his interest, keeping an eye on his body language especially. It wasn't usually the expression that gave people away, it was their posture. One stiff movement or shaky wrist was all she needed to confirm her suspicions. "You haven't seen her have you? She's been missing from home for about a week without a word and I heard from some locals that she was seen around here someplace recently... I'm worried." Nero frowned, her true concerns showing through. She only hoped that he was the truthful type and that he wasn't really the reason for her absence. If anything, he could've easily stolen some poor sap's clothes, leaving the real culprit out on the streets.

La Volpe watched cautiously as he was handed the photo, instantly recognizing the femme in it. Of course, he wouldn't just go 'Oh, I have her tied up in my room. No need to worry!' For a split second he faltered, letting a frown steal away his smile. "I do not know this woman. I am sorry." Volpe offered an apologetic smile as he handed the photo back. "That is quite worrying." He's manage to say, downing his drink so that he did not have to say much. "I can only wish you buona fortuna in finding her." He'd quickly glance at her, flashing a smile. He was good at hiding body language and little quirks people could pick up on, but he nearly completely faltered there. It was something totally unexpected, out of the blue and certainly dampened his plans. He would need to get out of here, with Asayl in tow...but how? "Mi sucsi. I think I am going to go for a stroll. Too nice of a morning to be wasted in here, don't you think?" Volpe had already paid the tender, so only pushed the empty glass to the other side of the bar before getting up from his seat. He'd turn to Nero, though, and offer a bow. "Sorry I could not be of help. If I hear or see anything I will see what I can do." Playing one of his usual lopsided grins before departing, and just as he got out of sight a heavy frown took his face, pinching the arch of his nose tenderly. Barging in on whatever conversation Cat and Asayl were having, he seemed unaware of the two other beings in the room, intent on only locking the door and trotting over to the window, checking for Nero's departure. "There is someone here," He'd eventually say, not bothering to turn around, "Looking for you, signorina. Goes by the name Nero. Do you know who she is?" At this point he was looking towards her now, a dark and most serious look that looked out of place compared to his smirks and smiles. Asayl snorted again. No words actually came from her to respond but with her face and tense body language, it was likely that he could see that he was pissing her off. And how. At least with Volpe, there was a kind of dance their conversations took, filled with sarcasm and fake kindness. But Cat... was just annoying. When he decided to change the subject, she decided her voice could use a little stretching. "That moron of yours attacked me for no reason. All I did was follow him for a bit before trying to get away and the bastard attacked me." She voice was taking up a hint of angry growl and tears were forming in her eyes. It was frustrating to hear herself say these things aloud. "And now he refuses to let me go because I got to see his face and because, apparently, I'm withholding some sort of imaginary bit of information from him." She was dangerously close to crying. And even more dangerously close to being absolutely and completely infuriated. The week of captivity had done a bang-up job of breaking her. Naturally, Volpe would bust in with perfectly terrible timing, though he didn't so much as glance at her. She would have repaid the favor but when Nero's name popped up, her ears flew up and a horrified look crossed her face. If Volpe knew who Nero was and she Nero knew her, that means she must have said something to tip him off. With both of them now in danger, her anger swelled. "Don't you DARE touch her!" She jerked in her confines, shouting for the first time since they had 'met.'

Nero Of Wolves wasn't sure what to make of this fellow. He was charming enough certainly, but the fact that he had made contat with Asa and refused to mention anything about it troubled her immensely. She would've thought little of it if he had stayed to talk with her about other things, but since he seemed to leave in such a hurry, she became increasingly suspicious with a twinge of anger in the lining of her emotions. His words and actions didn't line up and though she bade him a fond farewell, the lycan was eager to follow him and see exactly where he intended to run off to. If anything, she might be so lucky to corner him someplace and get the information she needed if necessary. Nero took her time with her drink at least, surely giving him the impression that he wasn't being followed. Now that he had his scent, it would only be a matter of time before she caught up with him again. Still, her nerves prevented her from staying put much longer before she too paid her way and moved to leave, taking the same path as he had done only a few minutes ago. After all, Asayl may not have much time, depending on what Angelo intened to do with her. It would be a heavy burden indeed if she were responsible for yet another death, especially of someone she held dear to her heart. A deep frown etched itself onto her face, briefly thinking of Enryous and Ero before quickly refocusing on her task with even more determination. It wasn't long before she found them, her ear pressed to the door just in case. She could hear the voice of the stranger, but most importantly, the lycan heard the familiar sound of Asayl. Many emotions flooded her at once, only briefly glancing around before promptly shouldering the door. Sure, he had locked it, but a little lock was nothing in comparison to her strength, even while in her human form. The door opened with a crash, splinters from the wood flying in the air as her eyes rapidly scanned the room, spotting Asayl in the chair, and her captive. A deep snarl escaped her, the sound of strong loyalties shining through in it as she rushed him, fully intending to pin him to the wall like an insect on display. "LIAR!"

La Volpe instantly let a smirk fall onto his face at Asayl's sudden dismay. "Oh? So she is dear to you, then?" After Cat's dismissal, Volpe went for the box under the bed, though retrieving at such an angle that Asayl would not be able to see what he was doing. And just as he unlocked the damn thing the door seemed to magically blow itself from its hinges. Peering around the side of the bed Volpe could not help but feel surprised and shocked to see Nero. "Cazzo." He cursed quite calmly, quickly slipping on his greaves that contained his valuable hidden blades from the box and taking his war hammer to hand. "You really think I would just tell you I have your friend locked up, puttana?" He snorted. "Stupid girl." Arrogant as he was, he certainly wasn't stupid. A girl that could shatter a door was no ordinary girl. "I'm afraid I can't let her go just now. Once she has given me the information I need, she is free to go. But until then, she stays." As he talked had been slowly slipping on his other armoured parts, chest plate, vambraces; it didn't take long to put them on, and he prepared himself for a possible fight. His grip on the hammer tightened, and he began to brace himself. "If you leave now, I will not have to kill you. Let her stay for a few more days until I get the information I need and she will come home safely. I will make sure of it." But Nero didn't seem like the type to accept such steep demands. In fact, he was more than certain that she would attack without even regarding his offer.

Asayl didn't say anything but stared daggers at him as hard as she could. The way he reached under the bed to get something was suspicious, but she had a feeling she knew what he was getting. She had guessed who he was correctly, yet she hadn't seen him in his mask this whole time. She had opened her mouth to snap some choice words at him, but instead shrieked as the door was rammed in, taken off guard completely. She turned away, just in case any lovely shreds of wood flew in her direction. The alarm quickly turned to utter surprise when the voice of her dear friend reached her ears. At this point, she didn't even know what to think. "Nero?! What the hell are you doing!" Still very much tied to her chair, she was all but useless. But the way Volpe calmly outfitted himself irked her and she continues to fight against the ropes. She was going to have some serious ropeburn to deal with. "Volpe, if you do anything to hurt her, I swear I'll never let you see another day!"She was no killer, as she had mentioned many times to him, but she was willing to make an exception. A very big exception.

Nero Of Wolves found herself becoming angry with him, his arrogant attitude showing through at last, though she had drawn too much attention to herself already. It was time to go, before any reinforcements arrived. Surely the entire tavern heard that clatter, not to mention felt it through the very walls and if this guy was serious, then it was possible that he worked with others to get his dirty work done. The possibilities were endless, but of little concern to her. Right now, her main priority was to get Asayl out of there and fast, especially since her eye caught sight of his hammer. She visibly tensed. Ordinarily she would've taken the risk of hard knocks, but the silver that was embedded in it worried her. Hopefully he didn't know what she was, or else it was possible for him to gain some sort of advantage. The idea now was to keep away from those weapons while making their escape. Her attention focused on him, not considering his proposition in the slightest, though she made her movements in this dance. "You've kept her long enough. She's needed back home. What information could she possibly give you?" It was then that she spied the mask that Asa has made, her brows furrowing a moment before returning her attention to him, stepping closer as she spoke, trying her best to keep her composure.

La Volpe did not know who or what she was, fortunately for her. He presumed that she was just a tall lady that was more than capable of knocking a few heads together. He'd watch as she spied the mask, then watched Asayl's reaction, eyebrows raising in surprise. "Oh, so I take it she hasn't told you? How very sneaky of you, signorina." The latter sentence sounded as if he were scolding a child. But he said nothing of its origins, not yet anyway, wanting to keep at least some control of the situation. "I cannot allow you to do that, Nero." Hands twitched, surreptitiously checking if the hidden blades worked, "If you cannot take my offer, I am afraid you will have to die. She stays here." His tone was more threatening now, like the rising growl of an angry dog, "If you just let her stay, everything will turn out nicely for everyone. We can all ride into the sunset laughing about how silly this was." Despite cracking a joke his tone and body language were tense.

Asayl- "Shut your mouth," she barked at Volpe. Still, this wasn't the best way for Nero to find out that she was still out sporting her mask - or anyone for that matter. For a fleeting moment, she imaged Silv's and Pheno's reacts if Nero let word slipped she had upgraded from coping mechanism to real crimes. Asayl continued to fight the ropes -maybe feeling one get a teeny bit looser after a week of pulling at it- but remain trapped.

Nero Of Wolves didn't exactly know what he was referring to, her eyes looking between Asayl and the stranger with great suspicion, though whatever Asa's reasoning was, it would wait. She watched him, her gaze hardening to more of a cold glare, one that she rarely gave to anyone. "You're in no position to bargain. Your words are nothing but petty lies! If you seriously wanted to give me an option, you would have offered me collateral in return. Asayl is too precious to leave in your care, you two-faced snake, even if you did have something up your sleeve. Either you give her up now, or I'll be forced to tear her away from your coils." All the while she was moving closer to them, so now the stranger and his captive were only a few feet away, though her eyes were always on him, body tense for any sort of movement he made should he attack.

La Volpe would slowly edge his way around towards Asayl, so that Nero would not be able to grab her and run. He stopped for a moment, nearly surprised and turned to give Asayl a quick glance. "So, that is your name signorina. Asayl. Quite unusual." Volpe silently thanked the lycan for giving him another link. He didn't quite like being called a snake, but he couldn't exactly blame her. Lying outright to her face surely would of pissed her off something awful. "I see. Well, it seems we are stuck in this stalemate of sorts." He would then chuckle, "Oh, but I did offer collateral. You get your dear Asayl back alive. Because, I'll let you in on a secret, usually my torture victims don't get out alive, but I am willing to make an exception. So, unless you have another idea I do believe we will be stuck like this for quite some time." Eyes never left Nero as he spoke, though remaining cautious of Asayl behind him. He didn't want to get overpowered by two women; well, not in this situation.

Asayl: [I am half tempted to bite him in the ass] Nero Of Wolves: [LOL] La Volpe: [ I thought you might do something like that. xD I was hesitant to bring him around to Asayl because of it. ] Asayl: [You can skip me this time, I guess. Asa is tied to a chair, the end.] Asayl: [THOUGH IF HE GETS ANY CLOSER] Asayl: [chompchomp]

Nero Of Wolves scoffed loudly to his face. "Some collateral! You've got nerve, but no brains to back it up. Typical. I hate reptiles like you, always so cold to others and yet blessed with silver tongues. You are an idiot if you think that I would leave her here alone with you for another minute. The least you deserve is castration!" With this, she ceased to speak any further, rushing at him with full force. Her speed rapidly closed the distance between them, so hopefully she might avoid a direct blow from that hammer of his, but her main priority was to knock him down to the ground, much with the impact of a train hitting a car stuck on the tails. If he moved, then it was all the better, because her goal was to simply grab Asayl and make a mad dash out of there.

La Volpe had no time to come up with some witty comeback, when he went to open his mouth Nero was already charging towards him. Out of instinct he brought the weapon around in a sweeping manner, intent on hitting her against the side once the space between them had dissolved, capable of winding her, leaving some really nasty bruises and if he hit the right place even break a few of her ribs. The fleet-footed assassin then, once the hammer had struck or come around in a full swing, create some more space between them, now standing beside Asayl's chair. "Careful cane, you might just end up hurting poor little Asayl." He'd turn to give the feline a pout, though didn't keep his eyes off of Nero for long. She was strong, but he was fast. It would be a battle of skills, and mainly luck.

Asayl flinched reflexively as they moved in her direction. She growled up at Volpe for using her as a form of defense. How rude! Still, she almost had a foot free now. One foot wasn't much, but it would likely come in handy when the right moment struck. Once she had is loose enough to just barely pull her foot through, she made the decision to leave it where it was. No sense giving it away just yet. She kept fighting to free a hand while dodging their exchanges as much as possible in the meantime.

Nero Of Wolves turned to face him, the impact of his hammer leaving her gritting her teeth, her arm clutching her side, an obviously feral snarl escaping her throat as she glared at him. "I'm not playing games with you. You will regret it if you don't back down now... I'll wager you don't even know what you're up against." Beneath the skin, her body was beginning to cope with the impact, beginning to work its natural healing ability. Still, she was clearly in discomfort, the broken ribs making it painful to breathe. Now he was too close to Asa for her to make that move again. She cursed her luck, all the while trying to keep her cool for fear of losing herself entirely. "Make a move." Nero moved closer to him, dangerously so, hoping to intimidate him into either attacking or moving backward. If he moved back, it might've been possible for Asayl to do her stuff. La Volpe was obviously surprised at the snarl; how could such a sound come from a woman? He got shivers up his spine, the hairs on his arms standing on end. There was something not quite right about her..."I probably don't." He sneered, though he had been considering just fleeing the scene now, and returning for Asayl later. They shouldn't be hard to track now he had their names, and what the looked like. Staying and fighting began to seem like the bad choice, but Volpe remained where he was for now, stuck in the dilemma. He couldn't help but feel as though she were trying to pressure him into something, attack her so she could counter attack, or send in an ambush of more friends that were lying in wait. Attacking would be bad, as Nero looked as though she could just shrug another attack off, but creating more distance meant the chance of loosing Asayl to her. In the end, however, he decided to attack, coming at her would an over-the-shoulder swing that would thump into the ground if it missed, causing shock waves that would shake the walls of the room and the ceiling below the floor. He was attempting to drive Nero back, away from Asayl, so that he needn't worry about the two at the same time.

Asayl- Without being directly in Volpe's line of sight now, she was really given the freedom of working on getting those ropes off. Using her free foot, she kicked at the knot in attempt to loosen it. It would take more than a few seconds to achieve enough room to liberate that foot also, but would manager somehow. Now with both feet free, she employed her teeth to try and free her hands but with the rope burn from her struggling, it made for an unpleasant and slow process. Hopefully Nero would distract Volpe enough to keep him from turning on her.

Nero Of Wolves saw the opportunity immediately after he lifted his arms, leaving his entire chest area open in a split second before he began the down stroke. This tiny opening is all she needed, pushing into him in hopes of dropping him to the floor. Nevertheless, the hammer came down squarely on her back, though not with the intended force. It was enough to cause her severe pain, instead of breaking her spine in two. She couldn't help but scream, her voice deepening in several octaves as she did so, a lycan snarl accompanying it soon after. Once her attacker was either on the floor, or at least farther away from Asayl, she stood, her eyes focusing on him in a new way. The irises had changed color entirely, though she still held a shred of dignity and clung to it like it were life itself. It was time to leave. Now. She was already in too deep. Nero quickly moved to Asayl with every intention of lifting her, with the chair if she had to and make an escape out the window. La Volpe stumbled at the push, and was about to go down before he tucked himself into an elegant roll of sorts, rolling onto his shoulder instead of landing on his back, now instead of lying flat on his ass he was several meters away. He grew ever more certain that Nero was not entirely human, if human at all. There was too much space between him and them to be able to make up for lost time, with Nero on the move and Asayl steadily untying herself, he was fighting a loosing battle. "Merde." He cursed out loud, scrambling into one of his equipment pockets and pulling out what seem like a little grey ball. But when he threw it to the ground at Asayl's feet it became more apparent what it was. A smoke bomb. Thick grey smoke curled around the two, capable of choking, obscuring everything in sight when caught inside. Now, he was stuck. He could try taking Asayl and have Nero give chase, or just fleeing entirely, going back to his previous plan. Was Asayl really worth the risk of getting a beat down by an inhuman humanoid? No woman was, really, not in his current opinion anyway. He would rather live than getting maimed half way of dragging the feline out of the tavern like some mustachioed villain stealing the damsel away. "You win, for now. But I'll be back for you dear Asayl." He'd chuckle before any sight or sense of him was gone. When the smoke eventually cleared it became obvious that he was gone. All the equipment in the box and Asayl's mask were gone too along with any evidence at all to Volpe ever being there.

[Will continue in part 2 with the aftermath of this when Asayl is returned home]

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