The science fiction rollplay for members of Flight of Fancy.
Vedrain stared down at Chrysth, his eyes black and cold. “Did he come alone?” he asked and the girl nodded. “Leave us.” She didn’t need to be told twice.
Trailing a long-nailed finger along the hem of the battle robe, Vedrain hooked his finger and tossed the hood back, revealing Chrysth's face, twisted in agony, viewing visions within the folds of unconsciousness.
“Well, well, Angel…”Vedrain hissed softly as he drew a knife. “Long time no see.”
Trine glared around the dim room seeking the white hair of Chrysth, something that would stand out vividly in the darkness. Saffire and Sebille stood to her left and right, slightly behind, while Mystic and Zalla remained at the entrance. Trine would not have them all captured.
“Customers…” came a hissing voice and Trine lifted an eyebrow. “No? Well, then…”
“We are looking for a man,” Trine began, her mouth dry just from breathing in the filth in the air.
“Only one?” the speaker moved closer and in the dim light Trine could only see the black robes covering the person who stood a foot or so shorter then her.
“His name is…Angel.” Trine nibbled her lip a moment, wondering why she was standing in a brothel on a cursed planet of killers and perverts, asking after a Blesser that had never cared for anyone but himself. Then again, he did get them off INS…
“Angel…” the hiss turned angry, dark.
“He has that effect on people,” Saffire murmured in Trine’s ear.
“Is he here?” Trine asked, ignoring Saffire and taking a step closer to the figure. “And don’t lie to me for I will know and the punishment will be harsh.”
The laugh was low and guttural. “Foolish human! You are all the same, thinking you are invincible, thinking you can control others with threats and harsh tones. I am not afraid.”
Trine moved so quickly that Sebille and Saffire did not know her intent until she had the hooded person by the throat and hoisted a full foot off the ground.
“Is he here?” she grounded out through clenched teeth. “I care not for your fear or lack thereof, nor do I pose idle threats. Where is Angel?”
“Downstairs!” the cloaked figured hacked, scaly black hands clawing at the Trine’s gloved hand about its neck. “Downstairs with him.”
Trine tossed the figure aside. “Sebille, stay here. Saffire, with me.”
Silently, Blesser and Summoner descended the dark stairs.
Vedrain cut away the robe and stood. It had been a long time…a long painful time…since he had laid eyes upon Angel. Tilting his head so that the black hair shifted smoothly about his face, Vedrain smiled a cruel smile.
Footsteps on the stairs caused him to look up in annoyance. They knew not to disturb him. They knew the danger.
The woman that descended the stairs was lovely and graceful, followed by a man that bespoke danger with every smooth step. Vedrain snarled and sheathed his knife.
“There he is,” the woman said, pointing at Angel on the floor. “Pick him up, Saffire.” And her eyes were on Vedrain.
He felt the jolt of the assault before he realized she had struck him. The electro-pulsator latched onto his shoulder, rapidly draining him of strength and rendering him immobile. He had used those often himself.
Retching, Vedrain reached over and pulled it off, the steady pulse ceasing the moment connection was no longer made. He tossed it aside and smiled as it shattered on the wall to his left. Let the woman tremble in fear for attacking Vedrain. He stood slowly.
Saffire already had Angel draped over his shoulder, body armor and clothing intact as the robe remained on the dirty ground, making his way to the stairs.
“You dare not take another step, mortal!” Vedrain hissed coldly but Saffire continued to move with the deadly grace of a natural born killer. Vedrain met the eyes of the woman. “Who are you?”
“It matters not who I am,” she replied as she began backing up the stairs after Saffire. “What matters is that you had something that belonged to me and I have taken it back.”
“Angel belongs to no one. I should know that better than anyone.” Vedrain looked for a sign of weakness, looked for a flaw in her defense that would allow him to regain his prize along with two extras. Her movements were flawless, however, her guard unbreechable. Whoever had trained her had trained her very well indeed.
“Then you should have no qualms about letting Saffire and I leave this place with him.” She backed up into the shadows. Vedrain’s eyes were only able to continue following her due to his long stint in darkness. “Good day to you, sir.” And she was through the door at the top of the stairs.
Vedrain smiled. “It is not over yet, my pet.” He ascended the stairs at a stalking pace, predator stalking prey, just as he liked it.
“Syn!” Trine called as she exited the brothel behind Saffire and Chrysth, Mystic, Zalla and Sebille on her heels. “Syn!”
He emerged, looking Saffire up and down. “What?”
“Take him,” Trine looked up the street as Syn took hold of Chrysth and tossed him over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. “We need a quick way out of here.”
“That way,” he said with a slight nod of his head. Over his shoulder, Chrysth stirred, lifting his head groggily to stare at the brothel.
“Never again, Vedrain,” he growled as his hand extended and the entrance of the brothel erupted in white flames. “Never again.” His head dropped limply again, arm dangling.
“Go!” Trine shouted and turned as the others ran past her, turned to watch the dark den of sin being consumed by blue-tipped white flames of intense heat. Shivering, Trine turned and dashed after the others down the rapidly emptying street, questions burning in her mind as the brothel burned to ash behind her.