• Mature • [mature] Melting a Frozen Heart

[Avrae Kyric]

2nd of Cylus, Arc 717

Avrae Kyric was afraid of bursting into flames. Every Aukari was, he believed, to an extent. It was why, even though he was a hothead, he tried so hard to keep his emotions in check. His bruises finally healed, the second morning of Cylus was looking up. He had gone for a morning jog, and had come across a shop called Curio’s Curiosities Book Shop. It was quite a way’s away from the inn, in a part of Ne’haer Avrae wasn’t even familiar with. As he stopped, taking a breath, he took a glance around- quickly realizing that he had no idea where he was, or if he could find his way back to the inn. Dressed in a simple pair of pants and a long sleeve shirt, with his usual boots, and his wolf’s head pendant hanging from his neck, Avrae hesitated before moving towards the shop.

He had very little money on him, since he left most of it back at the inn, but he figured he could at least take a look for a few trills before asking for directions. A bell on the door chimed as Avrae let himself in, peering into the shop with wide amber eyes. It was a sense of wonder for him, to be in such a place. When he was younger, he was… afraid, of places like this one. Not because he disliked reading- quite the contrary, he loved reading. But being an Aukari, that fear of bursting into flames made him fear places that- all in all- were quite flammable. He used to get nightmares of setting whole towns of fire, starting with a highly flammable building like that of a bookshop.

He wasn’t even two feet in the door before the owner- Curio Xarethi himself- spoke up in a haughty, sharp tone.

“Stop right there, red. You an Aukari?” His words were blunt, his eyes narrowed as the writer, who had been sitting at his desk, rose up to his full height- which with his tail must have been nearly nine feet. He was an Ithecal, after all. Usually Avrae would have found Ithecal to be hot, but the man’s accusation made his jaw set in irritation, eyes narrowing.

His words had caught the attention of some nearby shoppers, one of which gave Avrae a nasty sneer- clearly believing the shop owner to be right in his assumption.

Most of the time, people didn’t blink an eye at his red hair. Every so often, however, Avrae would come across pricks who would pick on anyone with red hair, regardless of if they were an Aukari or a Human. Avrae was an Aukari, but that was beside the point.

“You accuse everyone with red hair of being one of Faldrun’s lackeys?” Avrae retorted back, crossing his arms and glaring at the book shop owner.

Apparently, that was enough. Curio heaved a sigh, “You would too if you wanted to protect your establishment. Go on, then.” The Ithecal eased himself back into his seat, and a moment later was busily scribbling some writing down on paper.

Avrae was surprised it had been so easy. He hadn’t even technically lied. However, most did believe that Aukari were thoughtlessly loyal to Faldrun, so in a way, it made sense, he supposed. Deciding to put it from his mind- and avoid Curio- Avrae moved to the nearest bookshelf, which was right by the door.

Scanning the shelves, he smiled as his eyes caught on one. “Beasts of the Willow Woods by Curio Xarethi” it was entitled, and his mind wandered to his latest encounter with a lurker by the name of Gorgolas. Moreso, of the man who fought by his side. Alistair Venora’s image popped into his head, from his tousled dirty blonde locks to his strong jawline. It wasn’t the first time since they parted ways that Avrae found himself thinking of the man. They had gotten off to a rocky start- being that they punched one another, with Alistair causing significantly more damage to Avrae than Avrae did to Alistair- but by the end, Avrae found it to be a positive experience, with warm thoughts towards the man. As he reached for the book, he remembered Alistair having asked him once if he’d ever faced anything. At the time, unthinking, he had said no. Except… that hadn’t been exactly true.

Suppose it doesn’t matter now…. I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again. He’s probably popped into a portal and disappeared off to the other side of Idalos by now. Avrae thought, frowning as he pulled the book from the shelf. Besides… I’m a lowborn punk, in his own words. Now that our deals are done with, he has no reason to be around. It was a natural thing, yet Avrae couldn’t help but have a bitter taste left in his mouth.

Turning, Avrae moved to walk towards the stairs to explore the second floor of the shop. Only, he didn’t quite make it. The glaring Anti-Aukari male from earlier had been laying in wait. As Avrae went to move, he didn’t see the foot come out, not until he tripped over it. Giving a small yelped, his body lurched forward, his book flying from his hand. His head slammed into the hard corner of a small end table as he collided to the floor, and his knee banged painfully against the leg of the same table.

Groaning, he rolled over, hand going to his knee as he moved to sit up. His mind whirled, a cut in his forehead prominent as a line of blood began to appear, sliding steadily down around his right eye. On instinct, Avrae closed that eye so blood wouldn’t drip into it- because it’s searing heat burning his skin was bad enough, he didn’t want it in his eye- instead looking at his opponent with his left eye, which was narrowed into a glare. The man in front of him had to have been human, with greasy black hair and green eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Good thing you’re not an Aukari, huh? Might set the whole shop on fire.” The man mocked, openly laughing at him.

Avrae’s temper flashed up, jaw clenching. You farking piece of… Even with the injuries of his “accidental” fall, he had the urge to grab the nearest heavy object and bash the guy’s brains in. Instead, he reached for his book with a shaking hand- shaking with his own anger-. Only, it seemed the man had not had his fill of fun, as a foot then was placed on his wrist just as his hand touched the top of the book. Avrae winced at the pressure, blinking up at the bully.

“I’d leave that, if I were you. With that blood of yours, might want to forget shopping and get yourself to a doctor.” The man sneered. Curio was too busy writing on the other side of the room to notice what was happening, or hear the grunt of pain Avrae gave as the man’s boot applied more pressure to his wrist.

[Alistair]

"Anaa farah a'tah a'nebah seio lokos mai en ta baion faralah," the man whispered, beginning his incantation, in the Ancient Tongue . . . before his voice shifted, embracing the common language. "Spirits of the ancients, I call to you. Spirits of the wind, I call to you. Spirits of the sea, I call to you. Spirits of the mountain... spirits of the soil... spirits of the blue sky, the black sky, the hue for when the sun sets; I call upon you all. Come to me. Come to me."

. . . A pause. A silence. Something, then nothing at all. Words, followed by ash in Effren's mouth. A swirling of wind, a dancing of dragon's flame, a rising of earthen tides. All around him was energy -- and then an apparition. An energy of sorts, appearing in plain sight, though perhaps only seen because this entity had allowed himself to be seen. Alistair did not know what it was, only that it was surrounded by an aura of searing flame. The Venora almost squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, as the air around him grew heated, more and more. Almost too hot - even despite his exceptional patience with discomfort.

"Alistair," Effren spoke, his eyes opening . . . though they appeared only as a burning flame. "The elements are one with me. I have given them their delegation. The forests around the Seeker compound shall soon be set aflame," he said. "Now, I shall give you such a delegation of your own. There is a mockery of a library behind the walls of Ne'haer, far from Sarkanis. Within these walls is a man who claims to have sympathies for the Seekers -- he has been quite public with such belief, and has thus invited our attention. We plan, soon, to hit the Seekers hard . . . more than just troublesome forest fires, we will be assaulting barricades and points of interests around their compound. Getting ready to squeeze in, and clench the throat of victory. We will need to demoralize them, and force them away from Ne'haer. Force them into fear, crawling back to their "citadel". As such, this uninteresting man with a simple alignment of virtues can become the beginning of a volley against them. Make an example of him, Alistair. Leave him flayed in the streets, cut limb from limb. Leave the symbol of the Lich carved into his forehead. I know you remember the etchings."

With that, the mage nodded silently, accepting his task. Effren was never one to doubt or question, and many knew him to be the unconditional voice of the Matron. Alistair feared him even moreso than Ellasin, as his power and influence was quite direct, away from the slow and pervasive machinations of the Necromantress. He would perform this task; rob the man of the bookstore, haul him to a dark place, torture and murder him and... dismember him, bit by bit.

It was a Coven task, after all. They were never far from macabre, and certainly never did these tasks claim to be charming. He grabbed the parchment with the man's personal information, readily available on the wooden table around the convening circle, and slipped it into his pouch along his waist. The man took a breath, and visualized an alleyway in the city. Then, without much pause, he disappeared and re-appeared in that same alley. A tear in the fabric of matter closed behind him, the man dusting off his shirt and taking a deep breath.

Back to civilization.

He'd been to this bookstore before, so he knew of where the man spoke. But who was this Seeker sympathizer? He didn't recognize the details about him, and his physical characteristics were very strange. Skin like the winter's breath? Who had such a complexion?

Stepping into the store, the man's expression immediately changed, as the first thing he saw coming into view was a familiar face... bloodied and beaten onto the ground. Avrae. There was a man on top of him, shoving the soles of his feet against the Aukari. Pressuring his body hard, and for seemingly no reason. But -- why? That question only lasted a mere moment.

Fucking Aukari, the man said, cursing the identity of the one he laid against in assault.

Something in him switched. Something very instinctive. Something bold. Alistair made his way to the man assaulting the Aukari. He didn't know what compulsion was controlling him, but he found himself growing infuriated, and deathly so. Seeing the red-head's face bloodied was enough. He knew if he looked at it again, he'd want to kill the man doing it. And that would be going too far - he'd be losing too much control.

With the man seeming to barely notice Alistair coming towards him, the mage cocked his fist back and focused his strength into his arm. Then, with virtually none to notice, his fist went a shade of indigo as he channeled the ability splintering . . . a Rupturing ability that allowed him or an object to pass through other materials, penetrating defenses by rupturing the space between one point to another. That punch, flying forward with all of his strength focused into it, slipped straight through the man's skin, flesh and bone and only the knuckles materialized - once he was already to make impact. Alistair's knuckles landed directly against the man's lungs, and what came next was... mortifying.

A ghastly scream, hellish and guttural; the scream of a man who thought he was to die. The scream of a man who had no breath, and could not breathe, and so could only screech. And so he wailed, and screeched, as Alistair's fist yet again dematerialized and pulled back. The mage stared at his victim coldly, emptily, and withdrew Avrae from the ground. He placed the man against his shoulder, and moved the Aukari to be seated onto one of the tables, while Alistair stomped towards the desk of the bookstore owner.

"Do you have no shame?" he asked. "This man was beating one of your customers to near-death, and yet it took a common stranger to rescue the poor gentleman!" he grimaced, seeming rather furious. Perhaps it was Syroa's influence yet again flowing into him. Or perhaps it was just his protective instinct.

"I--" the man tried to explain himself, only to be stopped. In an instant, arms locked around his head, with Alistair's fingertips pressing along the sides of his skull. Small, hand mirror-sized portals formed all around his head, and all of them emulated the effect of pulling, which forced the man's skull to dance in a dozen different directions, his thoughts jumbling and his vision growing dizzy. Shortly after, he passed out, and Alistair's rage intensified.

Books were flung from tables, and shelves were knocked onto the floor, as explosions of energy detonated around the store. What was a wealthy establishment for curious minds quickly became the site of an arcane tantrum, as the man's fury became materialized through his energy. The patrons left, terrified, leaving only Alistair, Avrae, the unconscious bookstore owner and the man who'd been senselessly beating the Aukari.

There was something growing in him. Something he did not understand. Stepping towards the downed man who'd been assaulting Avrae, Alistair landed a forceful boot to his skull, before he stopped... the man's blood flowing from his nose and down the steps.

Control yourself, Alistair, he said to himself, internally, his eyes shifting into a cold silence. Control. Control. Control. This man does not need to die. I don't even know why he was attacking Avrae. This is just... a misunderstanding.

He stopped himself. Both the patron and the owner were unconscious, with Avrae's injured form seated onto a table. The mage stepped to the Aukari, and without his permission, he took them from the store and into a different place entirely, a rift cracking around them and swallowing the two men. The mage would not want to be seen at the scene of the crime.

Instead, they were in a cabin at the blink of an eye, one belonging to a Lothar Alistair had met two seasons past. A man who became a quick friend. The mage was trembling in the cold, and also nervous as result from his own actions. Why had he done that, he wondered? Why?

He lowered his eyes. "Avrae," he called. "Are you alright?"

[Avrae Kyric]

Avrae had been treated like this before. Not a lot, but once or twice did he face such ignorance and discrimination. He was beaten- but moreso he was defeated. As he lay there on the ground, burning blood running down the side of his head, he found himself not even trying to stop it. Instead, his eyes closed and he held back a whimper, wincing at the pressure on the wrist. It’ll break, it’ll break and he’ll leave me be. Just a little longer and he’ll leave. It wasn’t often that Avrae would give up, but he knew if he fought back, chances were he’d be the one to get into trouble. He was just trying to withstand the pain and wait until it was all over and he could leave. Serves me right for thinking I could come in here… Should have just kept walking.

The man’s foot twisted, doubling the pressure, and Avrae let out a sharp cry as he heard a snap. Head lulling down, his face contorted with pain, clenching his teeth as he felt his wrist break. This was why, when the door opened with a chime of the bell and Avrae looked up, his eyes were filled with tears. This bloodied, tearful, beaten man had never been more happy to see Alistair Venora in his life, taking in a shaking breath as their eyes met. It was only briefly, however, as Alistair quickly looked away from Avrae’s face- and that was when all hell broke loose.

Avrae had seen Alistair fight. He had been using all his power during their fight with Gorgolas- a magnificent sight to behold. But the Aukari had never seen him so angry before. He watched with wide eyes as Alistair charged forward, and- though from his position he didn’t have a very good view of the men above him- he certainly heard his bully’s scream. It was like that of a pig being brought to slaughter, knowing its last moments were coming. Except that this man screamed because of the pain. Alistair was not being merciful- he was torturing this man for what he’d done.

Even though he knew this, Avrae couldn’t have been more glad as Alistair’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him from the ground. “Ali…” He breathed the nickname, relief filling his voice as he clung to the noble. His injured arm stayed curled against his chest though, awkwardly held there as it began to bruise. He walked with him to the table, sitting obediently for once, his eyes stuck on Alistair’s and and rage he saw within him. “Ali, stop…” He tried to say, but it came out in a soft murmur, going unnoticed as Alistair was already halfway across the room to where Curio sat.

Beaten to near death… That was a bit of an over exaggeration, but Avrae understood now why Alistair was so furious. It surprised him, actually, to hear him speak about him with so much emotion. This man, who had professed to be cold and uncaring, now was doing what all men did to show they cared- beating up the ones who had hurt the one he cared about. Avrae was stunned, gazing at his savior. I thought I’d never see him again… and yet he cares enough to do this?

Avrae was new to magic, even though he had been a Becomer for some time. He was still seeing the extent of what it could do- and Alistair’s extent was vast. As the shop keeper fell unconscious, Avrae watched in horror as the shop- a bookstore, a place of peace and learning- was destroyed. Each loud bang as items broke and books flew about made him flinch, and his heart raced. If it were not for the fact that Alistair was doing this because of him, Avrae would have been scared of the man he saw now. Was it Syroa’s mark making him act so enraged? Or… something else?

As Alistair moved towards the downed tormentor, Avrae realized with a chill that his intent was one of murder. “Alistair, stop!” Avrae shouted this time, his voice coming out high and shrill in a way he did not intend. And Alistair did- but Avrae wasn’t sure if it was because of him, or because Alistair had regained control of himself. However, he was certain that the look he had now, as he looked at Alistair, was filled with fear.

Avrae swallowed hard as Alistair turned to him again, opening his mouth to speak- but he didn’t get a chance. With a whirl, the bookstore vanished, and instead they were somewhere else entirely. A cabin, it would seam, as Avrae regained his footing.

Clutching his broken wrist to himself, Avrae blinked as he looked up at Alistair, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He’d never had such a turn of events in his life.

Despite his injuries, Avrae waved aside the man’s concern, “I’m fine.” He tried to lie. Instead, he frowned, “Look at me. After what you just did, you could at least look at me when you talk to me, Alistair.” He said, exasperated that the man was avoiding his gaze, instead looking to the floor. After a trill, Avrae reached out unthinkingly with the intent to put a hand on Alistair’s arm- but the second his injured wrist moved, Avrae nearly buckled from the pain, “Ergh~!” He let out a pained whine, stumbling as he took a step away from Alistair and clasped his injured wrist once more. Sard it all… This hurts more than Becoming. He thought- a clear exaggeration- as he took a shallow breath. Avrae never dealt with pain well, and now it was his turn to avoid Alistair’s gaze, looking at the floor in an attempt that Alistair wouldn’t see the tears still present in his amber eyes.

[Alistair]

Look at me, the Aukari said. Alistair sighed, looking to his eyes, but only for a brief moment. Behind the man's stare, Avrae would see... almost nothing, as if he'd already suppressed all the explosive emotion that had just erupted. But this time, this suppression would not last, and it would not be long after the cold stare before Alistair found himself standing, with a frown on his face.

"Why must I look?" he asked. "I didn't do anything morally reprehensible. I did as that man did -- I asserted my power over another. While he reveled in the megalomania that came with a perceived sense of racial superiority, I reminded him that while he was not an Aukari, a race he deemed as filth, he was still a man. Still worthless in the eyes of his betters. Still prey, meant to be taken by a predator. You should understand that better by now. You should know how to fight discrimination -- by being someone no one will want to anger, for fear of something like... this," he said, gesturing all around him. Though the book shop was long gone, Avrae would know what he meant. The destruction. The pain. The carnage.

He turned back around, and yet again looked, catching a glimpse of the Aukari's amber eyes, matched in contrast with the brightness of Alistair's violet hues, painted by an ever-changing Nebula of colors. One of the signs that he had far transcended humanity. Yet, more notably than his mutated irises was what came from Avrae's. There were... tears. Why, he wondered? Was the Aukari saddened by being rescued?

No, it wasn't that. It was his injuries. The man moved carefully close to him, placing his palms against the man's forearms. He inspected his wrist, along with the rest of his damaged form.

Ripping a bandage from the small medical kit he'd left in his pouch, the man very rapidly got to work, covering the bloodied wound left on the Aukari while he searched for a thick rod to help straighten the fracture on his wrist. He searched, and then found, and got to work on repairing all of the man's wounds. He didn't ask him for permission, he only looked at him on occasion, as if his eyes assured that the fiery man would be okay after all.

"Avrae," he said his name, "I'm not going to bother trying to justify why I did what I did. That's not important. Instead, I wanna talk. There's something you need to know." The mage looked again into his eyes, and moved closer, abandoning all rules of personal space.

"I do care," he said, his eyes narrowing solemnly. "I care a lot, sometimes, and in the most unpredictable ways. Maybe I've been cold, but seeing you laying there... I felt so angry. I don't understand why, still. I thought I couldn't care about anyone. But I cared about you, in that moment."

He stopped himself, pulling himself back. Taking a breath. "I never wanted you to die at the hands of Gorgolas," he said. "That's why I joined that hunt. Something in me didn't want to see you die. There was something about you that I liked -- I saw that you could handle me, I guess. My real self. This jumbled up mess." He shook his head, stifling a self-deprecating laugh.

Ensuring the integrity of the make-shift cast he'd made for the Aukari, the man looked away shortly afterwards, embarrassed by his erratic behavior.

He took a breath -- probably the dozenth he'd taken in just these past few minutes. Then, once again calmed, he looked back for a final time, not averting his eyes afterwards.

"Avrae--" he began, "Even now, through blood and tears, I find you beautiful. Maybe that's why I can't stand to imagine you dying. I feel the world would suffer if you had gone."

[Avrae Kyric]

“You must look… because I am not some piece of logic you can store away, a mathematical formula to deal with. When you talk to me, you should look at me. Connect. It’s… what people do.” Avrae managed to mumble once he had worked through what Alistair had said. His thoughts felt slow, sluggish… jumbled. Perhaps I have a concussion. He thought- but that wasn’t it. No… it was just being around Alistair. He had to focus on every word, over analyze before he responded. He always felt startlingly stupid when compared to Alistair’s brilliance, and now was no different. Even so he added, “When you looked at me before, in there… you got angry. You should be able to look at me now and feel… whatever it is you feel at seeing that I’m fine… and that you saved me.”

Saved me… It was funny how those words made his heart leap. He wished he could be the type of man Alistair said he should be, but… “I don’t want to be that type of man.” He murmured, looking back up at Alistair, trying to blink away his tears so his vision would clear. “All my life… rage is the downfall of an Aukari. If I… If I did what you just did- I’d be dead. Not only would I be my own undoing, but I’d hurt innocent people while doing it. I’d burn down buildings, Alistair. I would rather be the type of man who takes the beating, silently, than the one who forcefully fights back. He would have left, unharmed, and I would still have had the same injuries as I do now.” He knew that a man like Alistair may not understand the sentiment he was trying to share, but as he went to help his wounds, Avrae took a shuddering breath. “To a man as… powerful as you, that must be rather pathetic.”

But he let it go, quieting as Alistair moved around, caring for his wounds. His knee ached but required no care- the broken wrist and sliced up forehead was what needed to be taken care of. The only time Avrae moved was when Alistair reached for his head- he held up a hand of caution, his good hand, briefly touching his fingertips to Alistair’s wrist. “Careful. My blood burns.” He reminded him. Certainly the doctor would know that about Aukari, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. His own skin that had been hit by the blood was red and irritated- like it had been splashed with boiling water.

Avrae was quiet, taking in the silence. He was trying to work through everything, trying to make sense of it. Yet when his name was spoken and Alistair moved closer, Avrae lost all his concentration, instead listening to his words.

“Cared about you…

Didn’t want to see you die…

Saw that you could handle me…”

All these words swirled around, so sweetly spoken. It reminded Avrae of the Alistair he’d met in his dreams, and the Alistair who had given him the bounty, and the Alistair he had laughed with over two daggers. This was the Alistair he knew- unguarded. Cold sometimes, yes, but not without reason. Then he said it.

"Even now, through blood and tears, I find you beautiful. Maybe that's why I can't stand to imagine you dying. I feel the world would suffer if you had gone."

Avrae’s breath caught in his throat. He was frozen, gazing into Alistair’s uniquely colored eyes, unable to look away. Hesitantly, he reached out with his good hand, laying heated fingers on Alistair’s collarbone. He could feel the thrum of his chest there, the rise and fall off each breath, and instinctively he inched closer. His gaze searched Alistair’s face for dishonesty- but he could find none.

“I… I don’t understand.” Avrae found himself saying, shaking his head. “How can you see beauty in me? I… Alistair. I’m a monster. Why do you think people fear Aukari? We’re… we’re unnatural, made by a fucked up immortal and his fucked up ideals. The world doesn’t miss dead Aukari- they only miss the things we destroy when we die. An Aukari brings ruin to everything- and everyone- they touch. How can you find me beautiful, when I’m… I’m nothing but a lowborn punk Aukari. You’ve said that yourself, when we met.” He swallowed hard, shivering slightly from the sheer way they were standing so close, focusing on the feel of his beating heart under his hand. “I don’t see what you claim to see in me… But I’m glad you do. I am… very lucky that you were here today.” His voice was soft, genuine. He didn’t understand… but maybe he would, with time.

[Alistair]

He supposed he didn't know what it was like to be an Aukari -- to be destroyed by your fury. In that way, Alistair was Avrae's total opposite. The emotion of anger had awakened him to a whole different side of himself, a light in the dark that was - perhaps unwittingly - shone upon by Syroa's intervention. While the woman was vile, she allowed Alistair to understand and embrace emotion. Rage. Desire. Lust.

And yet, such emotions... such passions, could end Avrae's very life. He did not understand why every Aukari had not already become a psychopath, as he once claimed he was, filtering their emotions and growing cold to everything; all words, all things, all advances. The fact that Avrae seemed to have such a filled heart despite his biology inhibiting him... was a show of strength. And he understood. He didn't want to fight back. He had learned to accept his fate.

"If that's the case, then, Avrae..." he paused, thinking of the proper words. Then he found them, and his heart warmed.

"I'll just have to protect you," he whispered. Shortly afterward, he stopped the Aukari's defensive reaction, his protest at being called... 'beautiful', something other than the harsh words he'd been given outside of his ancestral home. He silenced his explanations for how, in fact, he wasn't beautiful at all. It only took a finger to the lips, Alistair smirking behind the focal of his hand pressed against the Aukari's face. It was warm, and Alistair too had become warm, at least in this fleeting moment in a cold cabin. This moment, to him, was serene. It allowed him to remember what life was like before he'd compartmentalized the whole universe into his fragile skull. Before he'd lost himself to fear. The dreams he used to have.

He wanted to be a good person, at first. His original self was that of a Knight upon a silver stallion, at least in his dreams, saving lads and ladies from wroth beasts and giving alms to the poor. Where did that all go? And why did those memories come now? He could only wonder if Avrae had brought that gallantry back in him, if even for a moment. Alistair wanted to protect others. He wanted to have people he was close to. He didn't want for all of the things he'd gained, and learned, and all the power he'd amassed... to be used only for his own self. And here Avrae was, a guy who'd faced countless difficulties in his life. A guy with a genuinely good heart, and an unwillingness to do wrong by others. A man filled with empathy.

Alistair's total opposite, in every way. While he was born charmed with nobility and prestige, the other was born to a scorned race in the depths of the Heart of the World. Rather than despising him, however, Alistair found Avrae growing on him. Their differences, while clear, were only complimented by things that he found himself adoring: his pride, his tolerance for knowledge, his good heart...

And ultimately, a strange admiration that Alistair had noticed early on. Even though Avrae and he had gotten off on the wrong foot, the man seemed to cling to an ideal of Ali that the mage didn't think existed. He was... rooting for him to be a better person. And it made him want to be, for a moment in time, suspended in his thoughts. Seeing Avrae, feeling his warmth, reminded him of that.

And... it was bloody cold. He was reminded of that, too. Maybe in some off scenario in another life, Avrae would have exploded and taken Alistair with him, revealing a fault in the race he'd been born to. In this life, however, Alistair could only see the comfort of his warmth. He pressed himself against the Aukari, his arms locking around his back, as Alistair's nose brushed over his lips. "You might think your kind only brings pain and ruin... but right now, you're sheltering me from the cold. You're... warm," he whispered, his warm breath blowing against the man's cheek.

Leaning forward, his arms lowered to wrap around the man's waist, and with little hesitation he kissed the man on the lips. He was gentle, and tender, though his body was alight with desire. The mage kept the man's lips against his, dancing in parity with the Aukari's tongue. He wanted Avrae to be calm. To stop questioning it all - to learn to accept his own good. That was a sort of peace that every man was owed.

[Avrae Kyric]

Avrae couldn’t feel the cold, the chill in the empty cabin. It needed to be colder, he needed to be out in the snow, to truly have it bother him. Such was being an Aukari. It was funny, in a way, because he found himself thinking of the way Alistair had described himself once- as cold. If Alistair was cold, and Avrae was hot, perhaps the two could be exactly what the other needed. Perhaps their differences, could be their salvation. Either way, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Alistair, a man who had started out punching him not that long ago, now claimed he wished to protect him. His finger on his lips made Avrae shudder, eyelids fluttering as he attempted to look down at the other man’s hand.

Was this truly happening? Avrae could scarcely believe it. He had… had his doubts about Alistair, at first. He wanted to see him as an ass, as pompous, arrogant… and in lots of ways, he was. Avrae wouldn’t be blind to the noble’s faults. But he had also seen so much more in him. An awakened passion in life that few had, an intelligence vast enough to make Avrae himself feel foolish… and his valiant spirit. Chivalrous, kind, generous. These were things Avrae had seen hints of, and as Alistair pressed closer, arm’s locking around him, Avrae knew them to be true. This man was his knight, his protector, his savior. In this moment, Avrae laid claim to him as his Alistair Venora. He had no thought in mind whether it would last- and surely, if he’d been thinking rationally, he’d say it wouldn’t- but right now, in this moment… this was all he wanted.

Avrae couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held. Surely there had been a time? But as he searched his memories, they were blank. All he could think of was Alistair holding him right now. His body inched closer accordingly, willingly closing the distance. His hands slid up to cup Alistair’s chiseled face, one hand going a little higher so he could curl his warm fingers into that tousled blonde hair.

Warm. The whispered word brought a smile to Avrae’s lips, right before Alistair’s lips caught them. Avrae, who had only had one fleeting kiss in his life, was certain he melted. His legs went weak, clinging to Alistair as he tilted his head every so slightly. For once, he did not feel his own warm- too focused was he on the warmth of Alistair’s own mouth, his own arms around him. Avrae could feel his own skin heating up the longer they stood there, his touch growing warmer and warmer in reaction to the desire he felt.

Gently, he found himself pushing Alistair back until they found a couch on the far side of the room. Avrae’s lips only broke from his for a moment as he pushed Alistair to sit, moving to sit with him. Or more accurately, on him, his arms wrapping around Alistair’s broad shoulders as they settled there. “Ali…” He murmured, catching his breath a moment. His amber eyes opened, shining bright, all signs of his tears gone. “You don’t find it… uncomfortable? My erm… my body heat isn’t too much for you?” He’d heard stories of Aukari who had run so hot that their partners didn’t like it. It was hard to cuddle with someone who ran like a furnace, after all. Avrae knew that this little bit of contact wasn’t too much yet- but he feared it would be.

Despite his better judgement, he leaned close again, laying soft, warm kisses. One on the corner of Alistair’s lips, another on his jawline, one just under. Moving down until he found his neck, warming the cool skin he found with sweet, open mouthed kisses as he awaited Alistair’s answer. Avrae very much liked this- being held by Alistair, warming him, kissing him. For once, he felt… calm. Excited, impassioned, but calm. Content to be normal, and… to hope for things like the emotions Alistair was providing for him.

Emotions he thought he may never get to have.

[Alistair]

The Aukari accepted his kiss. No - more than that, he enjoyed it, welcomed it. The two of them brought themselves to sit upon Luden's leather sofa, fur laid upon it to maintain a warmth even through the cold Cylus. The man would've normally felt embarrassed, but Luden didn't appear to be home, and the potentially awkward moment of the Lothar opening his door to Avrae and Alistair's passions didn't nearly outweigh his desire for the red-headed beauty.

...who, very accommodatingly, seated himself upon Alistair's lower body, the Aukari straddling his lap. Alistair let out a hot breath, leaning back as his hands gripped the Aukari's waist. Looking to the Aukari's eyes, Alistair's expression seemed calm, yet filled with passion. He wanted Avrae more than almost anything right now - it wouldn't take anything but a look to know that.

You don’t find it… uncomfortable? My erm… my body heat isn’t too much for you? the man asked. Alistair almost laughed, a smile cracking the stillness of his lips. "Avrae, you're so cute," he said, pulling the man into him. He held him tightly, enough to absorb all of the man's abnormal levels of warmth. With this gesture, he made it clear that he wasn't made uncomfortable by the man's heat. Instead, he loved it. It was a quality he found exceptional.

"No, it's not comfortable. Quite the opposite, actually. You're really quite soft," the man spoke, laughing lightly. He'd never been much of a 'snuggly' type, but Avrae was something else. His skin was soft, his body was a perfect lean for Alistair's muscle. He was warm and accommodating, and the man could feel that he enjoyed the nobleman's touch. Indeed, there laid no discomfort in either of them. Alistair was content, right now, as things were.

And filled with passion. There was no doubt about that. The man laying kisses all over him only brought that out more, though he wasn't the type to just lay back and allow himself to go under siege. The mage took charge, catching one of Avrae's kisses with his own lips as he began to peel the man of his upper attire. The two men would then spend the whole of the night together, and never for one moment in that time would either of them feel the fear they had just moments ago, upon the steps within a bookstore, ravaged.

[Pegasus]

Avrae

Points!:

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/ 5
Structure: 5/ 5

Knowledge:

Alistair: Lost his temper in a book shop.
Alistair: Cares about you
Alistair: Tended your wounds
Alistair: Could he be your salvation?
Alistair: Your knight and protector.
Location: Curio's Curiosities
Location: Alistair's Cabin

Loot:

Broken Wrist: This will be very painful and will take approximately 40 trials to heal fullly

Fame:

-2 (suspected Aukari, there when all this happened)

Devotion:

Nope

Magic:

These points may NOT be used for arcana

Alistair

Points!:

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/ 5
Structure: 5/ 5

Knowledge:

Avrae: Cries when emotional
Avrae: You think he's beautiful
Avrae: Thinks he's a monster
Avrae: Warm
Rupturing: Can be controlled, even when you are angry
Seduction: Focus on the lips.
Seduction: Taking charge

Loot:

Nope

Fame:

-2 (acts of magic), -6 (break city laws re: assault (x2) & property), -2(general bad deeds: destroying the shop, scaring the customers). Total: -10

Devotion:

+5 (act of fury), +3 (act of lust)

Magic:

These points may be used for arcana

Overview:

General comments. Avrae, please ensure that you read this announcement from Jade, which came out before this thread started.

Story Well - that was quite a story! I enjoyed seeing a passionate / angry Ali. I think it was really interesting to see him rescue Avrae who was very much the victim in this one. Be cautious to keep the story consistent, though, and remember that with a newly broken wrist, Avrae wouldn't be lifting both hands to cup Ali's face and Ali would hurt him quite a lot of he was tugging off his shirt. Just a minor detail, that one, but thought I'd mention. Nice to see the interaction between the two and Ali's "heroics" (which is not how Ne'haer or the book store see it, I'm sure, but is true for Avrae!)

Structure The only issue I have with structure here is the no-less than 69 examples in your writing of "..." between the two of you. I'd just be slightly cautious of over using that. No other issue, and certainly not something worth docking points for, but thought I should raise it! Other than that, you both write beautifully and your writing is a pleasure to read.

Please do PM me if you think I've missed anything or you have any questions!