Men In Uniform (Second Verse, Same As The First)

[Myles]

Myles danced a bit as he walked, and the younger fellows with him swayed too. In fact, the whole world swayed, doing a fancy little samba and shuffling from foot to foot. Of course, that might have been the drink, by this point in the evening, quite a lot of things could probably be penned down to the drink. That didn't mean Myles had any intention of stopping, the night was still young and fresh and nubile, and although some of his companions were quite inclined to spend the rest of the evening having the fun that came from twisting bodies beneath sheets, Myles dragged them on a little further, playfully swatting away advances. Two were particularly persistent....

Myles gasped a bit, as a weight hit him from behind, wiry limbs wrapping around his body and clinging to him, as a dark faced crowned with a gloriously dissonant shock of red hair, nipped at Myles' neck and stole its fair share of kisses. Laughter echoed out from the gaggle of youths as Myles grinned and sought to dislodge a particularly sensual sort of lamprey. With a combination of tickles and a sort of throwing motion, Myles managed to topple the laughing girl over top himself. She twisted as she fell, landing on her feet with all the sure-footed agility of a monkey, pirouetting on an ankle that had been shattered and useless until just this morning, an ankle that Myles had healed. She was a bit slimmer than Myles usually preferred, but she had a strength in her body, and the exotic back drop of that bright red hair (apparently some great-grandmother had been Orlesian), on beautiful skin colored like stained teak, made her all the more fascinating. She'd caught his eye, and he caught hers, bodies gravitating towards one another throughout the night, caught in the queer orbits that youth and virility generated. She wasn't the only one though....

A friendly hand that had been casually slung across Myles' shoulders, became a bit more than friendly, as it slithered downwards, resting at the hip a moment, before the fingers slipped down past the waistband of the mage's trousers. Myles cackled and offered a playful nudge, pushing the boy away. Blonde, as fair-skinned as Myles but just as Rivani, no older than the red-headed girl and thus a few years younger than the mage. The boy's father had a bad case of the Wasting, would've been dead in a few more weeks, but he was a healthy man now, thanks to Myles....

"Oi, oi! Atrevido.... [Cheeky...,]" Myles draped his tone in mock reproof, but the mockery was clear enough, and the two responded in turn, rolling their eyes and settling back into their proper positions among the cluster of youths. The strength of their wills belied the chastened looks on their features, but then again, they knew the old game, and Myles was no more blind to it than they were. He'd watched their progress, they were the most forward, and the most amusing, so he'd given them notice, though they hadn't been alone in their attempts. Best to keep the numbers down though, too many players, and it became an orgy, and that was a separate sort of fun....

Both the blonde and the red-head took Myles' rebuffs in stride, both could taste the play in him. They knew that a bruxo had far... harsher methods of denying one's advances, if he was serious enough. This one though, was game enough, young and playful, and handsome enough to enhance the natural infatuation with the exotic and the new. A bruxo didn't usually charge for his services, it wasn't really necessary, there was were few and fewer shop keepers in Dairsmuid who'd allow him to pay for any good or service, and for the foreigners... well, there was always someone about who would see to any expense he incurred. You didn't give a bruxo coin, you gave him gratitude and respect, especially when he was the genuine article. This wasn't some escaped Circle pup playing games, not some wide-eyed romantic. This man with a boy's face, he had the marks, the ink on his flesh a testament to his accomplishments, the glint of gold along his upper ear a sign of passage. Myles was the genuine article, a child of the dark places, the lowlands and jungles, rare as diamond and just as valuable. One who knew the old arts, powerful. Seer, shaman, wise man, bruxo....

The movable party stopped abruptly, when they realized they'd left their nucleus behind, Myles standing stark still in front of a cruddy little tavern, old man Tamain’s place, renowned for its piss poor ale and not much else, though the man claimed he was trying to accommodate travelers, especially Fereldans, who apparently liked such brew. Myles didn’t care about the beer. It was one of the... quirks about being a bruxo, chageling.... When you spent so much time as a part of the wild, the wild never truly left you. You experienced sensory data in the manner of any feral beast, a stream of background information that your unconscious mind churned through relentlessly until if flagged certain important details. The sight of a person, the smell their body left in the air, the impression their boots left in the mud.. it all coalesced, until certain presences were nearly felt.

Myles stared through the doorway of the tavern, at a figure somewhat obscured by three rather bulky, rather unpleasant looking Antivan naval officers. He broke out into a wide grin, as he stepped into the cruddy little building, cackling slightly at the sight before him. His gaggle of attendants soon followed, wondering what curiosity had attracted the attention of their entertainment this evening. The blond boy and the red-headed girl bristled somewhat, smelling competition. Myles pushed pass the sailors, ignoring them as though they were so many pieces of furniture, ”Boa noite [good evening]... little sea thief, I did not think to see you again so soon, in such a different setting. Are you a captain again? Or still a little fishy out of water, eh?”

[Mariana]

Adrian was late. Which wouldn't usually be a problem, but Mariana was getting bored, and she really, really didn't like being bored. Especially when she was meeting him because he was going to help him get a ship, and now he wasn't bloody showing up. And here she was, sitting in a stinking tavern drinking the watered-down piss that passed for ale as near every man in the place tried for a grab... Life had been so much more fun before the Antivans had sunk her pai's ship. She missed not having to wait for people.

Shaking her head, Mariana pushed away the tankard of watered-down piss that passed for ale here. Adrian had always had a knack for finding the cheapest swill in town even when they were still shipmates, but it was never anything even almost decent. And now she was getting really impatient... With an irritated sigh, she hopped out of her chair and tossed a few coins on the table. If he wasn't coming, she'd just have to go out and find him.

Heading out the door, she found her path blocked by a group of men that still smelled of the sea. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep involuntary breath to draw the smell deep into her lungs. Damn she missed that smell. But she had something to do, and she opened her eyes to step around them... Only to find her path blocked again. "Would you boys do me a favour and piss off?"

Planting her hands on her hips, she glared at the men for a moment before her eyes widened. They were wearing uniforms. Antivan navy uniforms. "I don't suppose you're just here tor the ale? No? Well, it was worth a shot." She was trapped like a mouse in a jar by people who at best wanted to arrest her, but on the bright side she knew what probably happened to Adrian. And she probably wouldn't be waiting much longer.

Ah, but she'd always been lucky and today wasn't much different. A familiar voice threaded its way between the Antivans, closely followed by an equally familiar face. She'd never been so happy to see Myles in her life, but she wasn't about to lose the chance to lose the navy. With a cheeky bow and a jaunty wave, she dashed between the Antivans while they were distracted.

"Come on bruxo! And thanks for the help!"

[Myles]

Myles cocked an eyebrow as the familiar water creature took flight, content to leave Myles with her mess, or perhaps lead him on a merry chase. The mage half-smirked, half-frowned, she certainly was confident, to think herself worth the pursuit. Unfortunately, she was also very, very right.... The lad shook his head, and his grin turned rueful. He beckoned the red-headed girl closer, bit the tip of his own thumb, and smeared a small trail of blood on her neck, just above the collar bone, offering her a warm smile in exchange for a rather unpleasant task, "Follow her, morango, I'll be along shortly...."

The girl did not look pleased, nor did the blonde who sidled up behind her. Myles placated them with an easy going shrug, waving them down, "Hey now, no need to be bitter. This isn't a replacement, just evening up the numbers a bit. I'll be along soon, I couldn't let such helpfulness go... unrewarded...."

The lusty pair smirked and melted away, in the manner that only children born in the cities could manage, the stone and would becoming their own sort of jungle. Myles made to follow them, before a meaty, calloused hand gripping his shoulder stopped him dead in his tracks. He sighed, and turned towards the cluster of Antivan naval officers, all looking more than a tad irate. The largest of the trio, the one most adept at using his muscles and his dick first and foremost above his brain, cursed and spat at Myles in a voice like so many broken bottles scraping against one another, "You bastard, you let her get away."

"Really? It was my captivating presence that kept you from your duties? Is that what caused you lot to stand their like cattle while she waltzed right from under your noses? My, my I'm more powerful than I could have ever imagined...," The punch hit Myles square in the jaw, a sack of bricks attached to an arm. The boy staggered under the blow, but didn't fall. His mixed group of captivated souls tensed and stiffened, but didn't jump to his aid. A bruxo, a real bruxo, didn't need your help in a battle, and besides, some of the country folk were funny when it came to combat, and it never served one well to interfere unless explicitly asked for. The whispers rose among their ranks though, their breaths growing thick and heavy as they waited for a show.

Myles straightened himself out, showing off a face gone bloody, lip split by the first power house blow. He chuckled, tongue flicking out to lap up the blood. The Antivans faltered a bit in the face of that half-mad grin, but they'd sailed the roughest seas and seen queer sights, and they wouldn't be so easily unnerved by youthful bravura, if it could indeed be called that, "Really? Is that it? Come, come now, Antivan, you can do better than that.... Once more."

The sailor complied, another dose of fury in his veins now, his muscles primed by a determination to floor this fool in one go. His fist made a sound like a foot sinking into mud as it connected with Myles' face a second time, this blow strong enough to send the lad stumbling back a few paces, though he still kept standing. His nose was broken, blood streaming down his face and mingling with the fluids leaking from his busted lip, before splashing down on the hardwood of the tavern floor in heavy, pregnant drops. The bar went gone deathly quiet, everyone, watching, every one waiting, wondering what happens next. Myles managed a gory, red grin, and a slight chuckle, "Uma... uma vez mais. (Once more....)"

The fists flew, truly flew, as the Antivan saw red, the inexplicable fury so deep in his bones that he stopped trying to explain it after a while. He rained blows down upon this impudent whelp, tearing into his face, his stomach, his sides, desperate to beat this one stubborn upstart into submission. He knew his own strength, he knew what should happen to a body he'd pummeled so righteously. Nothing made any sense. Myles never faltered, never fell, never even sank to his knees. By now his body was a ruin, but he was still standing, and the Antivan was growing desperate. He gave one last, desperate, maddened howl and lunged at Myles, his strike stopping a fraction of an inch from Myles’ face. The battered man spoke clearly through swollen features, the grin on his features pained, but still present, ”Yes... I think that’s about enough.”

The stillness in the tavern grew an edge, a palpable electricity as the patrons edged just a little bit closer. Here it was... the moment where their bruxo proved himself worthy of the title. Myles chuckle grew somewhat more eerie, and bright pale eyes leveled on the Antivan for what felt like the first time. The navy officer pissed himself. That white hot gaze dug into his psyche, and he felt trapped, locked in the most primal response that sprung unbidden from the reptilian part of the brain. He felt it, the perfect, utter abject terror that froze his limbs to stone, that reduced him to the bird tied to the viper, because that pale, pulsing gaze was more than hypnotic... it had teeth.

Myles’ body vibrated sharply, as though some portion of his most essential being sought to break free of his flesh for just a moment. His spirit shuddered, and the blood reacted. His blood, blood that had splashed onto the floor, the blood on the sailor’s hands where he’d cut his knuckles against Myles’ face. The man screamed, and there was no fury in his voice any longer, nothing that sounded remotely human, just fear and horror given voice, a primal animal sound that echoed through the tavern and into the sticky sweet air of the Dairsmuid night.

The husk of the Antivan’s body fell down, the bits that were left, looking as though some ravenous beast had eaten its fill of them and left the rest to the carrion. Myles chuckled, running a stray hand across his face and through his hair, across a face without a mark or blemish, his skin flushed and bright, as though he’d just left someone panting in a bed. The other two sailors were against the wall, clutching one another, eyes wide, bladders empty. Myles smirked and nodded towards the mangled, but oddly bloodless heap of flesh, bone and sinew on the floor, ”Clean this mess up, quickly. You’re ship sails by dawn, or it doesn’t sail at all.”

The Antivans didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, until Myles headed towards the door. One of the two remaining sailors, the braver of the pair, and the stupider, stammered something out, something half an accusation and a half a plea, a single word that dripped from his lips,”Ma-… maleficar....”

”Maleficar?” Myles stepped out of the tavern and back out into the night, feeling a familiar rustling coursing through his body, ”This is Rivain, friend. We don’t have maleficar.... Only bruxo....”

Myles form twisted for a moment and melted into the gloom, leaving nothing but a dark shadow and the ruffle of feathers in his wake. The man proper returned to his proper form someways across the city. The sea thief might not have been in her element, but she certainly was quick on her feet. Thankfully, his little strawberry was quick as well, keeping the sea thief in her sights, and bearing Myles’ mark well. The mage gave a whistle from the rooftops, something to break Marianna from her reverie, ” Well, well, you certainly add a little spice to an evening. Care to climb the social ladder rather literally? It really is a lovely view....”

[Mariana]

The ground was solid, still, and strange beneath her feet but it did nothing to hamper either Mariana's speed or grace as she fled through the city streets. Dairsmuid was her home port, and no bloody Antivan was going to catch her there. Although, admittedly, it would be easier to get rid of them if she hadn't managed to run herself into a dead-end.

Well, they had her boxed in and well done for the Antivans. Shaking her head with an exaggerated, cheeky sigh she swung around to face them. Myles had been kind enough to keep most of them men behind at the tavern, so if she couldn't go around these ones she was perfectly capable of going through them. "Gentlemen." With a grand bow and an impish grin she unsheathed her daggers and charged, slicing deep into one man's groin as she slid between his legs. The poor bastard screamed in agony, knocking his comrades to the ground as he clutched at his formerly manly bits and toppled over.

"Might smart love, but I'm doing the world a favour by not letting you breed!" she called back as she ran.

The Antivans didn't follow her after that - perhaps fearing for their own manhoods - and once she was well away from them she slowed to a walk. She chuckled to herself a bit as she went, a half-wince-half-smirk on her face after her escape. Bastard would've tossed her in prison to rot, but she still felt sorry for the poor sot. She didn't expect home castrations were fun. But a familiar voice was calling to her from the rooftops and her face split into a grin. The Antivans were no trouble at the moment and his invitation had a rather... tasty undercurrent running through it.

Pulling herself gracefully up beside him, she leaned back and tossed him a sultry glance before her gaze was trapped by a view of the ocean. This probably wasn't the view Myles meant, but he was right - it was lovely. Once the sea was in your blood it never stopped calling, and no sailor would ever love a man or woman the way they loved the sea.

Ah, but that was just bloody sentimental and she had a particularly excellent distraction at hand. Forcing her eyes back to Myles she leaned back, showing her lean figure and ample chest off to best advantage. "Did I thank you for your timely rescue?" A saucy smirk and suggestive look, then her eyes her following her hand as she trailed it idly across her body and beneath her clothes. "No? Well, I really must fix that mustn't I?" Laying down properly, Mariana squeezed her breast in one hand as she traced lazy circles between her legs with the other. "Tell me bruxo, have you ever fucked a pirate on a roof? You should know, if you don't tend to me now I'll just have to do it myself..." She flicked a heated glance at Myles with that, sliding the hand between her legs under her pants to illustrate her point.

[Myles]

Myles felt the heat in his body rise as his blood gave notice to the beautiful woman at his feet. A slight simper still lingered on the boy's lips, but gone was the the playful, jaunty swagger, replaced by something hungry, eyes bright with a lust and a want that would've frightened some and excited others. He sank to his knees and straddled the wanton pirate grinning at him so seductively, and he mirrored her grin in kind. He took her teasing in stride, and responded in turn, "Now, now sea thief. You know one need never pay a bruxo, only show him gratitude...."

Arousal worked differently for a bruxo who knew the Changing, for a soul so closely bound to the most primal elements of his nature. Sex was never a quick tumble, a brief and fleeting bittersweet pleasure. No... Myles could taste it, smell it, feel it. He could smell the slight scents of acceptance and want as he bent low and left a trail of linger kisses down the side of Mariana's neck, tracing the jugular, nipping down her color bone. He could feel the press of her heartbeat in ever vein, touch the fire just beneath her flesh as the fingers of one hand trailed down her body, stroking the bare skin near her middle for a moment, before sinking beneath the waistband of her tattered trousers with an almost painful slowness.

"Mmm... never on a roof, no. And really, how could I allow such a tragedy? A lusty beauty with no one to attend to her needs? My sense of civic duty compels me," Myles snapped his fingers, and two figures pulled themselves up over the side of the roof and onto the rather spacious balcony. The redhead and the blonde, morango and atrevido, strawberry and cheeky, both youths flushed and grinning, already peeling away clothing, "As does theirs."

Myles chuckled, and lowered himself to his elbows, catching Mari's lips his own and lingering there, before his kisses trailed lower. He offered a final low murmur before abandoning speech entirely, "Bring me the dawn, doce rosa, bring me the dawn...."

((Next scene should be the morning after.))

[Mariana]

Mariana chuckled, limbs entangled with those of the bruxo and his pets as the sun rose, setting the sky aflame. "Where did you learn to do that thing with magic in your fingers?" Oh, that had been a wonderful trick. Even waking up the morning after she was still trembling from the pleasure of the night. But alas, she couldn't stay to exhaust herself and her companions for a second time while her friend rotted in some Antivan brig. "I am afraid, dear bruxo, that I must leave you now. I have a friend to break out of prison, and with any luck some Antivans to kill. You are most... welcome to join me, of course."

With a wink and a grin she stood, bending to retrieve her things and making sure that Myles got an eyeful as she did. Poor Verus was a prisoner, trapped in the bowels of an enemy ship, and she was well aware of how claustrophobic he was after his time as a Tevinter galley slave. Freedom and fresh air, he couldn't live without them, and it would be kinder to kill him than to deprive him of either. And even still, Mariana knew it took a great deal more than that to make him give up her location - if, indeed, the Antivans hadn't simply resorted to searching all the dockside taverns when Verus only answered their questions with silence. He was too good a friend to let him live the rest of his life in a cage... and a true bruxo could mean the difference between his freedom and his death.

Fully clothed, armour and weapons securely strapped into place, Mariana flipped herself over the wall and blew Myles a kiss. "Coming bruxo?" A cheeky wave and a cheekier bow later, she was showing Myles her back yet again as she trotted through the alleys back to the docks. He'd come, she was sure. Myles loved the chase, and she was well worth chasing. Besides, what bruxo could resist such an exciting adventure as breaking a man out of prison? Especially when there were... prizes at the end.