• Mature • Dark Shadows

[Patrick]

Vhalar 1 717; Break 23

Location: The Glass Quarter

"Don't kid yourself so, Mr. Barnell!" The flamboyant and modestly drunken brunette sauntered as she waved her hands in the air, Patrick had the courage to escort the young lady to her home as she'd been his last 'client' for the evening. Business had been great at the Libertine and he found himself quite enjoying the change in environment, even if it didn't change the typical behavior of his work ethic to begin with. "You think y' so brave to escort me home, but I assure you I've had braver men dare try more."

"Oh really?" Patrick grinned as he trailed behind her closely with interest in his eyes, as far as he could tell the spirited young broad enjoyed the attention. Her presence at the Libertine had been for social recreation more or less but this escort home, well honestly Patrick had betted on teh fact she'd asked him for other reasons. Sure dark and chilly nights were now a thing that returned with the end of Saun, but the bartender wasn't stupid to imagine other things were on a girl's mind. Not that he wasn't against it though, sometimes it was nice to indulge in another's company outside of work. "Well then," He quipped as he swept an arm at the back of her waist to guide her in close, their path went astray into the nearby alley as he tugged her against the wall. "Perhaps I should be a bit more braver."

"Bold words Mr. Barnell, and bolder actions yet." The brunette murmured through her chuckles of excitement, by now their faces were already closer than before naturally. He could see it in her paled eyes that within her excitement she was nervous, more or so rebellious as she wanted to indulge in this sense of adventure. She'd chosen him after all, who was he to not take initiative. "But so far," She teased with a facade to hide her pants, "I'm not impressed." As Patrick's hand remained pressed into the wall he leaned into her further, the tips of their noses brushed as he hovered his lips near her's. Her eyes had fallen shut as she almost shuddered in anticipation, such a young and fine woman she had to be. Her own father would be displeased if he knew of her habit, sneaking out at night to be off with some lowlife stranger in the alleyways. Her hands nearly dug into chest and stomach as the light and thin fingers pressed firmly across his skin, the drift of her touch descended lower and lower past his waste as he slipped his lips past the corner of her's.

Patrick heard her gasp turned to rushed sighs as he trailed kisses along her cheek and down the jawline, underneath the lobe of her ear and right down to the center of her neck. He felt her hands on him and that aroused him even after the amount of times he worked, until finally the train of thought within his mind somehow changed from stimulating to disturbing somehow. As his light pecks became more and more pressed onto the surface of her neck, he could not only feel the strong pulsating beats of her veins beckoning him but... the loudest pounding of his own heartbeat as well. He felt a whole new kind of rush surge into his mind next, a craving that he'd thought been quelled with careful strategic doses throughout his days. At first when he bit down he did so lightly, enough to make her once again gasp and quietly groan at the sensation. That is until... the grip of his teeth only furthered to increase, to an uncomfortable degree where her own demeanor dramatically changed.

The mood this originally settled in died in a matter of Trills. She struggled underneath him but his entire body seemed pressed into her, both hands gripped at her mouth and wrist. She tried to scream next as his teeth only sank deeper within, finally hard enough to draw the blood out of her flesh. There were muffled cries and sobs as the surface of her skin began to trickle with a few droplets of red, while Patrick felt the sides of his mind ring with that same satisfaction for a craving he could never fully sate. Though she tried to struggle she couldn't help herself now, the young lady was too weak from the ironclad grip he had on her. Patrick consumed as much as he could of her, drinking her in with heavy gulps as he wanted more. He felt himself mentally slip away into the bliss of it all, the overwhelming power of domination mixed with the taste of blood made him lose himself entirely. Until at last her meager struggles became lessened against him, his weight and ceaseless appetite overtook the fragility of her constitution.

The life of a noble's daughter became consumed by the monster within, and left alone in the alleyway once her body could no longer nourish the craving.

Vhalar 2 717; Break 12

Location: The Bronze Boar

This morning seemed to be both long and harrowing for Patrick, as the Trial seemed to be filled with word of what happened this early morning. He knew what they found had been his fault, and that he needn't to make it so easy to determine that he played the guilty party. No he had to pretend it was something else entirely, that last night's unexpected episode was nothing more than just a nightmare. A devious fantasy that didn't end up killing a noble's daughter. He escorted her home yes, then the two had their distraction in the alleyway. After that he left her to fend for herself, unaware of the monster that lurked within the shadows.

No matter what he told himself though he knew the truth, he even felt guilt for being the main cause in that factor. He was the monster. "Patrick," Daveth called his name as he poked out of the kitchen with eyes on the bartender, "Make sure those at the tables have refreshments, Saun may be over but we still gotta make sure customer's remain hydrated."

"Got it." Patrick eagerly nodded to cover up any sign of heavy occupation within his head, he then moved over to check the tables and see to it customer's had their drinks handy and full; as well as a spare mug of water since Saun still had it's lingering effects on some citizens.

[Lena]

Death had come to Rharne that morning.

Lena had awoken to hushed whispers and worried looks from the other priestesses as they went around their morning duties. Lena had spent the morning at her unarmed training, working hard, trying to ignore the gossip and theories that buzzed around the training yard. She kept her head down and worked hard, blocking with her forearms until her arms were bruised and aching, her hair frazzled and cheeks red.

"Girls, focus!" the instructor called, but it only stopped the whispers for a moment. The priestesses worked hard for a few more trills, but when the bell rang, the chatter began again. "They just found her," her roommate whispered to her friend. "Drained of all blood, lying on the street. What kind of monster does that?" Lena powered past the women. She was not close to Thera, her roommate, and did not want to partake in the gossip.

But still her heart ached, even as she tried to distract herself. A noble daughter, left to bleed out in the streets, tossed aside like a forgotten piece of refuse. Her heart twisted in on itself, but she shook her head trying to distract herself of the thoughts that distracted her from what must be done. The woman was dead. As a healer, there was nothing more she could do.

"Lena!"

At the sound of her name, she turned abruptly, bowing her head when she saw who had called her. "High Priestess Amara," Lena murmured respectfully. "Daveth at the Bronze Boar has a dossier I need picked up, containing information on herbs from Nashaki. Would you please go and retrieve it?"

Lena nodded her head. "Of course, High Priestess." With a soft smile and a thanks murmured, Lena's mentor turned and left, leaving Lena to fulfill her duties.

Quickly, she returned to her room, changing into a simple linen dress before shouldering her satchel with her purse. She looked around the room - small and impersonal - and her heart panged as she longed for the comfort of her home with her father. Shaking her head, she left the Cathedral, and moved swiftly through the streets on long legs to the bar.

Her nose wrinkled when she entered. The smell of stale alcohol repulsed the Mortalborn of Sobriety, but she bit her lip and went to the nearest server, a handsome man, tall with broad shoulders. "Excuse me," she murmured, stopping him with a touch on his shoulder, meeting his deep brown eyes with her own pale blue ones.

"I am Noviciate Lena A'stril. High Priestess Amara sent me to retrieve a dossier that Daveth, the owner, was said to have had. Could you please direct me to him?" Lena noted, absently, that the man was handsome - but a server in a bar, a den of indulgence. Pushing the thought aside, she waited to complete her duty, looking at the man expectantly.

[Patrick]

Patrick's morning routine didn't hardly seem effected at all by last night's incident, quite honestly the only thing that remained about it was the fact a body had been found. Yes. He killed that poor girl. Drained her of all the blood he could consume while her life whittled away, that didn't change the fact he felt bad about the act of course honestly. In truth he felt horrible about it, completely terrible and utterly guilty even though he hid that away. As he'd poured drinks and cleaned up empty or partially drank mugs, he continued his work for the morning throughout the establishment. Dishes weren't awfully piled so he had time for those later, and activity in the bar itself seemed a little edgy if not wary of a killer amidst the city. They knew. Deep down there had to be a residual feeling of knowing within these people, that the killer that struck the girl last night wasn't just an outsider. Patrick could've guessed that easily since it was him, but the location it occurred would've been too easily determined.

Lowlifes don't prowl about in the Glass Quarter to begin with, nor did one remain ever so clever to remain hidden away after a murder in the shadows. The people were talking already to be sure, of that Patrick could already determine with how unsettled some of the customers felt. A woman seemed to enter the premises and caught him off guard, snapped his occupied thoughts for her attention as she apparently had came here for something. A dossier? From Daveth? It must've been a copy of business records for the Cathedral perhaps, honestly Patrick wasn't quite sure what Daveth put in those documents for those up top the mountain. "Oh right," He quickly veered his eyes from her to the office which Daveth had retreated in momentarily, "Wait there." He held a finger up in a motion as he went to check with the Ithecal, surely Daveth knew to be expecting someone if she were here now of course. "Daveth,"

"Yes?" The half man half snake questioned as he looked from his stool he'd coiled over, while his desk seemed littered with parchments and documents all over.

"Some broad from the cathedral is here, think they're wantin' whatever it is ya send their way."

"That's today? Damn." The Ithecal looked up in thought for a moment. "Yeah I got them here somewhere, just offer her a free drink while she's waiting. Maybe give her a tour of the kitchen like you always do."

"Ha ha." Patrick feigned a laugh at the joke with only a partial grin, it wasn't his fault women liked to test him sometimes. Still Daveth needed time to put together the dossier for her, so at best Patrick figured he could chat with her while they kept the poor girl waiting. "It'll be just a few Trills miss." He chimed as he walked back towards the part of the bar she'd sat down at. "Daveth's just gotta make sure he's got everythin' together is all." As he angled his arms apart and rested down on his hands, Patrick looked at the lady a little bit more closely since they were actually communicating now. Quite tall for a woman really, she almost stood as tall as Patrick even. Something about the strong and clean complexion of her face made him guess her noble quality, maybe that of noble birth before she seemed to find herself among the ranks of the knights. She proved quite a fetching beauty nonetheless, one that made Patrick almost unaware-ably drool inside his mouth out of sudden hunger. "So 'Noviciate' ya say? Call me Patrick miss Lena, your friendly bartender by day and... well let's just say I entertain durin' the later Breaks." He offered with a quirky smile to the lass, his eyes fixated on the coloration of her blonde hair.

"Can I get ya a drink by the way?" He inquired respectively as he straightened to a tall stall. "We got plenty to choose from; on the house since you're a guest of the Cathedral."

[Lena]

Lena couldn't help her expression, her eyebrows rocketing skywards as the man dismissed her. Still, as he turned to the bowels of the bar, Lena perched awkwardly on a stool by the bar, her mouth wrinkling in distaste as she saw how sticky the bar was. Making it a note to not touch the wood, she gazed about the bar.

Men and women still were here, some perhaps from the night before, judging by the state of one or two of them. One even lay snoring quietly over a table. Briefly she thought of removing the man from his poor state, but she decided against it. If she did so, she knew he would just order another and keep going. Why did these men never learn?

The voice of the bartender woke her from her observation, and she turned to look more carefully at him as he spoke. He was good looking, with a wide easy smile, and his words were soft and easy. He was companionable, and Lena did not know how to respond to that. Awkwardly, she clasped her hands in front of her, careful not to touch the bar and its sticky residue.

His words then registered. A bartender and ... entertainer? Her lips pursed, knowing exactly what that meant. A man who preyed on the poor and drunken, who lacked good sense and self control, eager to bury themselves in another to forget their woes. And this Patrick profited on it. All thoughts of his good looks became less potent, then, knowing what he did in the night hours, but still she could not deny that his easy demeanour and soft grins would make him very good at his job. Her eyes closed briefly, before she schooled her expression into one more neutral.

"Thank you," she sniffed. Despite her disapproval, manners were expected for a Priestess. "Just water will be fine." Lena would have been content to sit in silence, but she felt again her gaze go to the man passed out on the table.

"That man," she pointed to the drunkard, "how long has he been lying there?"

[Patrick]

For a moment in time Patrick merely stood there as he watched her, perhaps a bit too closely, and noticed the way she seemed to act about the bar. She seemed disturbed with the place itself and not only that, rather disgusted with the whole drinking scene entirely as she seemed to hide behind etiquette. No doubt part of her clerical training back at the cathedral. Regardless he smirked and barely said a word to himself as he poured a glass of water, the pitcher placed back down while he rested the glass in front of her. He wondered about her and for a moment, considered maybe she had indeed been of highborn nobility. From the way she sat though he could've guessed differently, nobles had that air and posture of superiority about them at all times. They were never keen to let up that facade in public, this 'noviciate' on the other hand seemed more withdrawn and occupied with everything else but posturing appearance.

Finally Patrick realized that he had actually stared, quite too long, at the cleric and found his eyes had been zoned out where her cleavage was. Typical as it would've been for him to stare briefly, he'd noticed that his eyes did more than just glimpse at her. No. His eyes vividly detoured the surfaces of her skin all along her neck, where her jugular was which had to be filled with vividly warm blood. Warm. Pulsing. Invigorating blood. The inviting sight created irrepressible urges he had to choke down, which caused him to turn away with his back to her for a short couple of Bits. No doubt this would've made their conversations a little awkward now, but he could at least pretend he was busy with cleaning up and pouring out new drinks. Finally she'd broke the silence between them and thankfully broke the weight of awkwardness that had developed, as Patrick looked to her over his shoulder and proceeded to follow the direction. Her finger pointed to the drunk passed out.

Patrick briefly chuckled as he turned to her once more, a mug and flagon in hand as he proceeded to pour himself a drink. "Long while, came in late last night." He answered as he rested the flagon down and took a drink of ale. "Turns out he's lost a sister recently because she's redheaded, y'know, people hatin' on non-Aukari individuals. Then come t' find out his partner's been a terrible one, she's not only lain with his best friend but both brothers. On top of that gave them all a disease, had t' go t' the medic t' get that in check." He scratched above an eyebrow with one of his thumbs, his eyes down to the bar as he seemed to keep himself from laughing. "Yeah he's had a looooot t' drink, said it's been a wild Saun fer him." He couldn't help but grin to Lena afterwards, curious to see how she'd react to the story and if she'd actually buy it.

[Lena]

As she looked back, she noticed the man - Patrick - trailing his eyes over her neck and her flesh. She coloured, but not with embarrassment, but with frustration. She wanted to snap at him, tell him to look somewhere, anywhere else - that she was a Noviciate of the city! - but Lena knew that patience, propriety and discipline came first. She kept her mouth shut, but her gaze became even less friendly towards the man.

"A long while?" she murmured, frowning slightly. He was speaking of the man's misfortunes, and yet he grinned and drank as he did so. "Did he not have anywhere else to go?" That this man, this bartender, this courtesan should mock so much another's troubles, it rankled her, and she frowned in his direction.

"You seem very happy telling the story of another's misfortunes," she accused, looking at the tankard he had in his hand. "And to drink the same poison that that very man turned to." Suddenly, Lena could not hold back the words of frustration that spilled from her lips.

"He has been here a long while, and yet you do nothing - you do not seek him medical attention, you do not return him to his home. No, what do you do? You spend all night plying him with more drinks simply for your profit and your amusement, and now you drink while you laugh at his state!" She wanted to say more, but anything further would be even more imprudent than she already had been.

Without a word, she stood, made her way over to the man. "Excuse me, sir," she said softly, rousing him by the shoulder, but he did not stir. Lena sighed, shaking her head, and with her hand pressed against his shoulder, she closed her eyes. Slowly, she leeched the alcohol from his body, removing all traces of the drunkenness that afflicted him. As she did so, she tasted bitter ale on her tongue, and it made her want to gag.

Eventually, the man began to stir. "Wazzit?" he mumbled, looking blearily up at Lena. She smiled gently at the man. "It's alright, sir. You'll feel better in a few trills." Without even looking to Patrick, she called out. "Bartender! Bring this man some water!" The man began to sit up, his eyes less bloodshot now. As you should have done last night, she thought to herself.

[Patrick]

The cleric seemed somewhat shocked at first and then suddenly, and quite openly, appalled over the story that Patrick had told her. "Sure he did, he just found the table comfortable I'm sure." He reasoned with a shrug while the wry grin still remained, another sip of his mug followed before she went into her own tirade. "Lady trust me, that man's reason's pale in comparison with my own; when it comes t' drinkin' this 'poison' as you call it." He briefly remarked before she went even further, as to accuse him of doing nothing when the guy apparently needed medical attention. Patrick doubted it quite honestly, anybody who is anybody in Rharne could drink themselves stupid; and by the end of the night wake up with but a bare hangover afterwards. "Ouch, now that just hurts." He remarked as she seemed to storm off over to the passed out man.

Patrick's eyebrows rose as he just blankly stared at where she'd sat, his face turned to the office where Daveth had been. He had a smile all own his own to display amusement, and slowly shook his head at Patrick as he returned to putting together that dossier. Patrick sighed as he rose to head over to her side, but halted his progress and leaned against the beam near the bar as she did something. It looked as though she were... meditating? She had her hands upon him and, quite oddly, wound up gagging in the process of hovering over his limp figure. Afterwards he started to stir awake and in turn, the command for water seemed to be issued before he joined the two of them. With a soft shake of his head Patrick poured a glass of water as the lady insisted, and brought it over with a heavily amused look in his expression. "One fresh glass of water, cheers mate." He encouraged to the suddenly sobered individual, Patrick's smile lessened as he wondered just how in Idalos this cleric managed to accomplish such a thing. Most priests and knights marked by Ilaren could outdrink anybody with containers that never emptied, but when did they also practice sobering techniques on people?

"By the way," He leaned in a little towards Lena, "that was completely a jest. This customer's a regular of ours, likes t' camp out here when he's too drunk. So the misses won't bitch 'em out when he gets home and leave him with an even bigger hang over afterwards." With a loose smile he lightly patted one of her shoulder's, and turned to head back onward to the bar where his mug had been left. "Hey Daveth, almost done in there?" He inquired aloud as he returned to his station.

"Yeah, just gotta fit these documents into the envelope."

"Great, pretty sure miss Lena here is sick of this place already." He guessed as he leaned across the counter, his eyes blatantly watched her figure as he admired the view. "Unless you'd rather stay a while, finish your water before y' go." The suggestion came with another big grin towards the lady, as he'd already found it amusing to toy with her.

[Lena]

"Here," Lena said, pulling a seat up next to the man, steadying him with an unyielding hand on his shoulder. Lena took the glass that Patrick offered her, shooting him a dirty glare at his words and the unthinking touch against her skin. Saying nothing, she turned back to the man.

"Drink this," she murmured, passing the water over to the man. He blinked confusedly at her, but took the glass anyway, sipping carefully at the cool liquid. "Slowly," she urged. "You'll feel better." He did as she asked, and Lena watched carefully, looking for any signs of drunken haze. Satisfied, she smiled, nodding.

"There," she smiled encouragingly. "You'll feel better for a few breaks, but I recommend you head home and get to bed. You'll have a horrible headache in a few breaks, and you'll want to be somewhere nice and cosy when that happens."

Hearing Patrick's words, Lena rolled her eyes, but stood anyway, with one last pleasant look to the man. "You'll be fine," she assured, before turning on her heel and returning to the bar. She held her head high as she walked, but her blue eyes made contact with Patrick's, and they were cold as ice.

"Do you have a problem with me, Patrick?" she asked, her eyebrows raised, as she reached him by the bar. "Because I have one with you. I find you already irresponsible and cruel, to let a man lie ill on the table." Her gaze flickered to where Daveth lay sequestered in his office, but bit her tongue, and shook her head.

"You know what? Never mind. If you want to continue your time supplying people with an incapacitant, and mocking them for their states, then fine. I need the dossier and to get back to my work." Lena folded her arms, and tapped her foot impatiently.

[Patrick]

Patrick didn't ignore the fact Lena happened to shoot at him a very iced glare, the glazed cold look did little more than prove something to him of course. That he had influence over her. Already she seemed to despite him so and it had only been the first impression, hell it hadn't even been a full Break and she already grew irritated so quickly. That kind of effect displayed the sort of power he had over her, the very difference of their nature's and beliefs apparently. To him she was nothing more than a high strung fire cracker, ready to snap at any given moment if he continued to press her buttons. He somehow liked that about her already, and they were nothing more than just a couple of strangers.

"Heh, problem? Nah, trust me when I say it's been an amusin' time. Probably the highlight of my... mornin'." His eyes drifted to the door as a few of the knights seemed to enter the bar, while Daveth had finished his dossier and slithered out to hand it over.

"Mornin' boys." The Ithecal called as he stood tall next to Patrick.

"Mornin' Daveth, Patrick." The leader of the three greeted as the three took a seat at the bar, they all gave a good long look at Lena before focusing on the two men once more. "We're here on business today, got an investigation we'd like to ask you about."

Oh shit... Patrick's smile lessened and he almost swallowed hard, his lean on the counter changed to a straight stand in front of the men. "Investigation huh? Lemme break out the whiskey fer this." He reasoned as he started to turn around.

"Would like to ask you some questions actually, Mr. Barnell." Daveth glanced between the group and his bartender, and with a pat on Patrick's shoulder mentioned he'd get the drinks.

"Sure lads. Wha'dya wanna know?" The bartender calmly asked as he glanced from Lena to them, and with a casual demeanor he handed over the dossier she'd came to collect.

"Well it's pretty common knowledge now, a nobleman's oldest daughter had been found dead late last night. The last person who was with her had been you, accordin' to a few eye witnesses that saw her leavin' the Lady Libertine with you."

"That's who was killed?" He feigned shock. "Well shit..."

"Y' know her?" One of the knight's followers inquired.

"Briefly. She came t' the workplace to drink and socialize with her friends, asked me t' escort her home and er... Well let's just say we were distracted." He casually grinned as he allowed the imagination of the knight's to proceed with the implication.

"And after?" The leader inquired as they took their whiskey shots without hesitation. Patrick looked to be in thought for a moment and then shrugged.

"When we were done she sent me away, said she just didn't wanna pay fer the service. Who was I t' hold it against her?" He looked from the knights over to Lena, if she'd remained where she stood that is, curious to see her impression on the whole story Patrick had sold.

[Lena]

Lena opened her mouth to snap back a retort to Patrick, but was interrupted from her frustration by the presence of three knights who strode into the bar. "Sers," she said, bowing her head, immediately becoming reverent - the perfect picture of a Thunder Priestess. Still, even as she lowered her gaze in respect of her superiors, she could not help but send a frustrated glare towards Patrick.

And now - to offer whiskey! In a morning break! To Knights on business! Lena could not believe the audacity of the man. She stared at Patrick incredulously. For all her frustration with him, it gave way into curiosity - he was being ... questioned? Lena took the dossier from him silently, but she showed no signs of leaving. She should have left, should have gone back to her duties, but she could not help but stand here - curious.

Lena's stomach plummeted. They were asking him about the dead noblewoman - and he had been the last person seen with her, while she was alive. Lena's hand flew up to her mouth in shock, and she stared at Patrick. Could this jovial, teasing man - who however much he frustrated Lena, seemed to be a good man, more or less - really have murdered an innocent woman?

She swallowed nervously. Clearly the woman had been drunk, to hire an escort, and also to be so frivolous on the public streets, even in the middle of the night. The knights didn't notice, as they did their shots, but Lena definitely did see how the man paused. Her eyes narrowed. Something told her that beyond his easy charm, there was something going on here... and Lena wanted to find out.

"I was with him," she blurted out suddenly, then flushed red at the sudden interruption. "I came to find him after I couldn't sleep. I found him in his apartment around the same time the woman was murdered. It could not have been him." Why was she defending him? Why was she lying to do so? All she knew was that she wanted to find out what secret Patrick was hiding. Why, though, she couldn't say.