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The house was mostly empty, but not all that quiet. Because of the fire, it creaked with every gust of wind against the rafters. They’d ceased keeping watch, now that the neighborhood had been deemed predictable and, for all intents and purposes, safe. To have someone constantly stationed up on the roof was begging for attention. Their skin color alone branded them as foreign and now that people knew they were here, but not a terrible amount of information about them, they’d begun to blend and to be forgettable. The perfect place to be, in other words.
During most days, they slept. Like cats, the thieves did their best work at night and preferred to operate on a nocturnal schedule. However, sometimes, like today, Tiye, Nahash, and Zai were out. Akhmad was somewhere in the house, likely standing in a shadow, pretending to be one-with-the-wall. The mute could even have been up on the roof, lying supine, staring up into the sun.
Khanh liked Akhmad as much as anyone could like him - that is, he projected onto Akhmad a certain personality and, thus far, Akhmad hadn’t contradicted him. Verbally. Sometimes he liked to imagine that Akhmad was a lizard and that he was just skulking in corners or lying in the sun, soaking up as much warmth as he could so that he could scuttle into the next house, perform the next job, silent and calm. Although, unlike a lizard, Akhmad didn’t have a tongue to scent the air. Khanh supposed the similarities weren’t totally perfect, but they worked well enough.
He put his hand over his eyes and sighed to himself. Obviously he needed more sleep if these were the kinds of thoughts he was entertaining in order to get some sleep. He was unable to get comfortable. Shifting on his bed roll, he pushed the makeshift pillow up a little higher and turned onto his stomach, now hugging the pillow, his pointed chin resting on its edge. Dust drifted through slats of intermittent sunlight pouring through holes in the roof, giving the whole upper floor a dusky illumination. Even with the light, the shabby loft space was all gloom and grit.
Sighing again, his eyes roamed the wood grain, looking for patterns and imagining little pictures in them. If he let his gaze go out of focus, sometimes the pictures expanded to encompass more mottled little stains and a whole scene came to life, only to disappear if he concentrated on a specific spot too much. Another deep sigh escaped and he shifted onto his back, now looking up into the rafters. It was too bright.
Though he was used to erratic sleep patterns, it was always difficult to get used to sleeping during the day when he had done almost nothing the night before. His body begged for activity and he had been mostly instructed to stay here. As all of his friends were here, the people he knew were here, it wasn’t that hard, but it wasn’t like he was getting to stretch his legs by walking the narrow streets of this city. What he needed was exercise. Some sort of way to release his pent up frustration. Maybe a long run or sparring with someone, but with Zai and Nahash gone, Akhmad off melting into a corner, he had no one to spar with. Tiye didn’t like to try to fight him and Somra-
Khanh shifted onto his side, looking across the intervening space to the curving shadow, just visible through the murky air. He worked his tongue along the top edges of his teeth. His fingers tapped lightly on the boards in five distinct, hollow thuds, rhythmic and soft. tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, over and over as he thought about it. She’d shoot him down. Somra merely tolerated him. That much was obvious. He had no delusions that she’d sooner stab him than share a bed with him and he very much doubted she would give any sort of enthusiastic ‘yes’ to sparring.
That only left one choice. Khanh didn’t move. He listened to the sounds of her breathing, trying to decide if she was awake or asleep. His lips parted and he stared at her back, or what he assumed was her back. It was hard to distinguish features in this light. The sun was directly overhead, blazing down, the sunlight only serving to enhance the shadows of the space.
Finally Khanh lay on his back, looking again at the ceiling. He should leave her alone. But his mind wandered to the lithe way she’d climbed up the wall. How easily she’d maneuvered the stone cliff face. It took quite a bit of strength to do that. The small, feminine muscles of her arms had presented themselves as she’d scaled her way up and down, and the smirk she’d thrown his way when she came to collect her cloak…
He smiled at the ceiling for a little while, then sighed again and dismissed the thoughts. It was too much work to try to psyche her up enough to get riled. She’d been so good lately. Such an obedient pet. Pulling the blankets up to his shoulders, he rolled a little, off the bedroll and onto the actual boards of the attic. They creaked from the redistribution of weight, but settled again. His attention was on the ceiling but this portion of the floor was so uncomfortable, so he shifted again, trying to find a better space.
Every single area of the floor between him and Somra so filled him with malcontent, that he slowly shifted, turned over, stretched out, and scooted his way into a new area that before long, he found himself near enough to Somra that he could have reached out and touched her. And since he was here, he figured he might as well just give it a go.
Either she’d be receptive and let him burn off a bit of energy in a pleasurable way, or they were going to have it out in a painful, though no less exercise filled time. It was truly a win, win, and he turned onto his side, chest against her back, arm flung over her, and grinned. “Snuggle?” his offer was light and barely registered as serious.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The house was mostly empty, but not all that quiet. Because of the fire, it creaked with every gust of wind against the rafters. They’d ceased keeping watch, now that the neighborhood had been deemed predictable and, for all intents and purposes, safe. To have someone constantly stationed up on the roof was begging for attention. Their skin color alone branded them as foreign and now that people knew they were here, but not a terrible amount of information about them, they’d begun to blend and to be forgettable. The perfect place to be, in other words.
During most days, they slept. Like cats, the thieves did their best work at night and preferred to operate on a nocturnal schedule. However, sometimes, like today, Tiye, Nahash, and Zai were out. Akhmad was somewhere in the house, likely standing in a shadow, pretending to be one-with-the-wall. The mute could even have been up on the roof, lying supine, staring up into the sun.
Khanh liked Akhmad as much as anyone could like him - that is, he projected onto Akhmad a certain personality and, thus far, Akhmad hadn’t contradicted him. Verbally. Sometimes he liked to imagine that Akhmad was a lizard and that he was just skulking in corners or lying in the sun, soaking up as much warmth as he could so that he could scuttle into the next house, perform the next job, silent and calm. Although, unlike a lizard, Akhmad didn’t have a tongue to scent the air. Khanh supposed the similarities weren’t totally perfect, but they worked well enough.
He put his hand over his eyes and sighed to himself. Obviously he needed more sleep if these were the kinds of thoughts he was entertaining in order to get some sleep. He was unable to get comfortable. Shifting on his bed roll, he pushed the makeshift pillow up a little higher and turned onto his stomach, now hugging the pillow, his pointed chin resting on its edge. Dust drifted through slats of intermittent sunlight pouring through holes in the roof, giving the whole upper floor a dusky illumination. Even with the light, the shabby loft space was all gloom and grit.
Sighing again, his eyes roamed the wood grain, looking for patterns and imagining little pictures in them. If he let his gaze go out of focus, sometimes the pictures expanded to encompass more mottled little stains and a whole scene came to life, only to disappear if he concentrated on a specific spot too much. Another deep sigh escaped and he shifted onto his back, now looking up into the rafters. It was too bright.
Though he was used to erratic sleep patterns, it was always difficult to get used to sleeping during the day when he had done almost nothing the night before. His body begged for activity and he had been mostly instructed to stay here. As all of his friends were here, the people he knew were here, it wasn’t that hard, but it wasn’t like he was getting to stretch his legs by walking the narrow streets of this city. What he needed was exercise. Some sort of way to release his pent up frustration. Maybe a long run or sparring with someone, but with Zai and Nahash gone, Akhmad off melting into a corner, he had no one to spar with. Tiye didn’t like to try to fight him and Somra-
Khanh shifted onto his side, looking across the intervening space to the curving shadow, just visible through the murky air. He worked his tongue along the top edges of his teeth. His fingers tapped lightly on the boards in five distinct, hollow thuds, rhythmic and soft. tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, over and over as he thought about it. She’d shoot him down. Somra merely tolerated him. That much was obvious. He had no delusions that she’d sooner stab him than share a bed with him and he very much doubted she would give any sort of enthusiastic ‘yes’ to sparring.
That only left one choice. Khanh didn’t move. He listened to the sounds of her breathing, trying to decide if she was awake or asleep. His lips parted and he stared at her back, or what he assumed was her back. It was hard to distinguish features in this light. The sun was directly overhead, blazing down, the sunlight only serving to enhance the shadows of the space.
Finally Khanh lay on his back, looking again at the ceiling. He should leave her alone. But his mind wandered to the lithe way she’d climbed up the wall. How easily she’d maneuvered the stone cliff face. It took quite a bit of strength to do that. The small, feminine muscles of her arms had presented themselves as she’d scaled her way up and down, and the smirk she’d thrown his way when she came to collect her cloak…
He smiled at the ceiling for a little while, then sighed again and dismissed the thoughts. It was too much work to try to psyche her up enough to get riled. She’d been so good lately. Such an obedient pet. Pulling the blankets up to his shoulders, he rolled a little, off the bedroll and onto the actual boards of the attic. They creaked from the redistribution of weight, but settled again. His attention was on the ceiling but this portion of the floor was so uncomfortable, so he shifted again, trying to find a better space.
Every single area of the floor between him and Somra so filled him with malcontent, that he slowly shifted, turned over, stretched out, and scooted his way into a new area that before long, he found himself near enough to Somra that he could have reached out and touched her. And since he was here, he figured he might as well just give it a go.
Either she’d be receptive and let him burn off a bit of energy in a pleasurable way, or they were going to have it out in a painful, though no less exercise filled time. It was truly a win, win, and he turned onto his side, chest against her back, arm flung over her, and grinned. “Snuggle?” his offer was light and barely registered as serious.
The house was mostly empty, but not all that quiet. Because of the fire, it creaked with every gust of wind against the rafters. They’d ceased keeping watch, now that the neighborhood had been deemed predictable and, for all intents and purposes, safe. To have someone constantly stationed up on the roof was begging for attention. Their skin color alone branded them as foreign and now that people knew they were here, but not a terrible amount of information about them, they’d begun to blend and to be forgettable. The perfect place to be, in other words.
During most days, they slept. Like cats, the thieves did their best work at night and preferred to operate on a nocturnal schedule. However, sometimes, like today, Tiye, Nahash, and Zai were out. Akhmad was somewhere in the house, likely standing in a shadow, pretending to be one-with-the-wall. The mute could even have been up on the roof, lying supine, staring up into the sun.
Khanh liked Akhmad as much as anyone could like him - that is, he projected onto Akhmad a certain personality and, thus far, Akhmad hadn’t contradicted him. Verbally. Sometimes he liked to imagine that Akhmad was a lizard and that he was just skulking in corners or lying in the sun, soaking up as much warmth as he could so that he could scuttle into the next house, perform the next job, silent and calm. Although, unlike a lizard, Akhmad didn’t have a tongue to scent the air. Khanh supposed the similarities weren’t totally perfect, but they worked well enough.
He put his hand over his eyes and sighed to himself. Obviously he needed more sleep if these were the kinds of thoughts he was entertaining in order to get some sleep. He was unable to get comfortable. Shifting on his bed roll, he pushed the makeshift pillow up a little higher and turned onto his stomach, now hugging the pillow, his pointed chin resting on its edge. Dust drifted through slats of intermittent sunlight pouring through holes in the roof, giving the whole upper floor a dusky illumination. Even with the light, the shabby loft space was all gloom and grit.
Sighing again, his eyes roamed the wood grain, looking for patterns and imagining little pictures in them. If he let his gaze go out of focus, sometimes the pictures expanded to encompass more mottled little stains and a whole scene came to life, only to disappear if he concentrated on a specific spot too much. Another deep sigh escaped and he shifted onto his back, now looking up into the rafters. It was too bright.
Though he was used to erratic sleep patterns, it was always difficult to get used to sleeping during the day when he had done almost nothing the night before. His body begged for activity and he had been mostly instructed to stay here. As all of his friends were here, the people he knew were here, it wasn’t that hard, but it wasn’t like he was getting to stretch his legs by walking the narrow streets of this city. What he needed was exercise. Some sort of way to release his pent up frustration. Maybe a long run or sparring with someone, but with Zai and Nahash gone, Akhmad off melting into a corner, he had no one to spar with. Tiye didn’t like to try to fight him and Somra-
Khanh shifted onto his side, looking across the intervening space to the curving shadow, just visible through the murky air. He worked his tongue along the top edges of his teeth. His fingers tapped lightly on the boards in five distinct, hollow thuds, rhythmic and soft. tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, over and over as he thought about it. She’d shoot him down. Somra merely tolerated him. That much was obvious. He had no delusions that she’d sooner stab him than share a bed with him and he very much doubted she would give any sort of enthusiastic ‘yes’ to sparring.
That only left one choice. Khanh didn’t move. He listened to the sounds of her breathing, trying to decide if she was awake or asleep. His lips parted and he stared at her back, or what he assumed was her back. It was hard to distinguish features in this light. The sun was directly overhead, blazing down, the sunlight only serving to enhance the shadows of the space.
Finally Khanh lay on his back, looking again at the ceiling. He should leave her alone. But his mind wandered to the lithe way she’d climbed up the wall. How easily she’d maneuvered the stone cliff face. It took quite a bit of strength to do that. The small, feminine muscles of her arms had presented themselves as she’d scaled her way up and down, and the smirk she’d thrown his way when she came to collect her cloak…
He smiled at the ceiling for a little while, then sighed again and dismissed the thoughts. It was too much work to try to psyche her up enough to get riled. She’d been so good lately. Such an obedient pet. Pulling the blankets up to his shoulders, he rolled a little, off the bedroll and onto the actual boards of the attic. They creaked from the redistribution of weight, but settled again. His attention was on the ceiling but this portion of the floor was so uncomfortable, so he shifted again, trying to find a better space.
Every single area of the floor between him and Somra so filled him with malcontent, that he slowly shifted, turned over, stretched out, and scooted his way into a new area that before long, he found himself near enough to Somra that he could have reached out and touched her. And since he was here, he figured he might as well just give it a go.
Either she’d be receptive and let him burn off a bit of energy in a pleasurable way, or they were going to have it out in a painful, though no less exercise filled time. It was truly a win, win, and he turned onto his side, chest against her back, arm flung over her, and grinned. “Snuggle?” his offer was light and barely registered as serious.
Sleep wasn’t something that had been coming easily to Somra. It was something that she had always had a problem with, and now that she was expected to be up most of the night, she was having an even harder time trying to sleep with the light of day shining overhead. Her body seemed to be dead set against her having any sort of restful sleep for the past few days, leaving her exhausted and a bit cranky. The tiredness had started showing on her face, and she hated that it was affecting her beauty, not to mention being tired for an extended period of time might start affecting her judgement, and that was something she could not have happen. Especially not with this group, or during any tasks that might be asked of her. Climbing a cliff face or a building was a lot more dangerous in her current state of exhaustion, one wrong move could mean injury or worse.
So it had taken her awhile, but she had finally drifted off to sleep, laying on her bedroll, with one arm tucked under her make shift pillow to prop her head up a bit more, she was laying on her side, her back to the rest of the room. Her free hand gripped one of her daggers, a habit that she had gained from a sense of self preservation. She knew that she was a small woman, and a lot of the places she had stayed and travelled had been less than favourable areas. She was used to having to defend herself with her daggers, though running away tended to be her go to when men decided they would take what ever they wanted from her regardless of her opinion on the matter. She wasn’t sure she would need the dagger among this group, but it was something she slept with every night, and she saw no reason to stop it. Better safe than sorry.
Her breathing was deep and slow, muscles relaxed and at ease as sleep claimed her. Her head was full of dreams of a better life, one where she didn’t have to sleep with a dagger in her hand, where safety and security were a thing she felt at all times. Her dreams often consisted of that, of a life that she had never known but one that she had been fighting to have since she was a young girl, running from a life as a slave at a brothel. Sometimes she wondered if perhaps there was some sort of Gods out there, and they had cursed her with such a life for a reason. Or perhaps it was just simply that she had been unlucky, to be born into servitude and to experience the things as a child that she had experienced.
As she slept, she was unaware of the impending interruption of her dreams that was sneaking up behind her, slowly making his way over until he was pressed right up against her. She was jolted awake, and her anger flared. Though she knew that she should do her best to remain calm, to pull away from him and tell him off instead of doing something impulsive, her sleep deprived brain decided that it had enough. She had just fallen asleep, only to be awoken a few minutes later by a man, Khanh of all
So, without the chance for a rational thought, her hand shot back, dagger gripped tightly in her fingers. She pressed it back against him, not enough to break skin, but enough that he would feel the sharp blade pressed to his thigh, dangerously close to a part of him that he probably did not wish to part with. She wanted him to know that she was not messing around, that if he pushed her, she would push back, consequences be damned. One thing Somra was very serious about was control over her own body and what happened to it. She was not the type to just allow a man to put his hands on her if she didn’t want it. And with this particular man, she definitely did not want it.
There had been a time when she would have gladly leaned back against him, played into his little game. He was an attractive man, but after his treatment of her their first night in Colchis, she was far from wanting his hands on her in any way shape or form. She had instantly lost any interest in him and knew that the feeling wasn’t likely to come back any time soon. The image of the look in his eyes, the look like he wanted to kill her right then and there, was still fresh in her mind. And though for the most part, the terror had faded, the anger at the whole thing was still there. She did not forgive or forget easily, and that night he had painted himself as an enemy in her eyes. She would work with him because it was required, but she did not wish to get any closer to him than that. Especially not in the way that he seemed to be looking for.
“I suggest you take your arm from around me.” She said, her voice low and dangerous, making it clear that she was not joking around. Her anger flared more, and she did her best to keep it under control, though she pressed the blade a little harder against his skin without noticing she had done so. He was lucky that she had at least some sort of control over herself at the moment, or he would have been made less of a man right then and there. Had it been anyone else in any other situation, she would have sliced with her dagger without a second thought. But she supposed that cutting off Khanh’s manhood would probably not help with the already shaky ground she was on with the group. Though if he continued to press his luck, she wouldn't give a damn about her reputation with the group.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Sleep wasn’t something that had been coming easily to Somra. It was something that she had always had a problem with, and now that she was expected to be up most of the night, she was having an even harder time trying to sleep with the light of day shining overhead. Her body seemed to be dead set against her having any sort of restful sleep for the past few days, leaving her exhausted and a bit cranky. The tiredness had started showing on her face, and she hated that it was affecting her beauty, not to mention being tired for an extended period of time might start affecting her judgement, and that was something she could not have happen. Especially not with this group, or during any tasks that might be asked of her. Climbing a cliff face or a building was a lot more dangerous in her current state of exhaustion, one wrong move could mean injury or worse.
So it had taken her awhile, but she had finally drifted off to sleep, laying on her bedroll, with one arm tucked under her make shift pillow to prop her head up a bit more, she was laying on her side, her back to the rest of the room. Her free hand gripped one of her daggers, a habit that she had gained from a sense of self preservation. She knew that she was a small woman, and a lot of the places she had stayed and travelled had been less than favourable areas. She was used to having to defend herself with her daggers, though running away tended to be her go to when men decided they would take what ever they wanted from her regardless of her opinion on the matter. She wasn’t sure she would need the dagger among this group, but it was something she slept with every night, and she saw no reason to stop it. Better safe than sorry.
Her breathing was deep and slow, muscles relaxed and at ease as sleep claimed her. Her head was full of dreams of a better life, one where she didn’t have to sleep with a dagger in her hand, where safety and security were a thing she felt at all times. Her dreams often consisted of that, of a life that she had never known but one that she had been fighting to have since she was a young girl, running from a life as a slave at a brothel. Sometimes she wondered if perhaps there was some sort of Gods out there, and they had cursed her with such a life for a reason. Or perhaps it was just simply that she had been unlucky, to be born into servitude and to experience the things as a child that she had experienced.
As she slept, she was unaware of the impending interruption of her dreams that was sneaking up behind her, slowly making his way over until he was pressed right up against her. She was jolted awake, and her anger flared. Though she knew that she should do her best to remain calm, to pull away from him and tell him off instead of doing something impulsive, her sleep deprived brain decided that it had enough. She had just fallen asleep, only to be awoken a few minutes later by a man, Khanh of all
So, without the chance for a rational thought, her hand shot back, dagger gripped tightly in her fingers. She pressed it back against him, not enough to break skin, but enough that he would feel the sharp blade pressed to his thigh, dangerously close to a part of him that he probably did not wish to part with. She wanted him to know that she was not messing around, that if he pushed her, she would push back, consequences be damned. One thing Somra was very serious about was control over her own body and what happened to it. She was not the type to just allow a man to put his hands on her if she didn’t want it. And with this particular man, she definitely did not want it.
There had been a time when she would have gladly leaned back against him, played into his little game. He was an attractive man, but after his treatment of her their first night in Colchis, she was far from wanting his hands on her in any way shape or form. She had instantly lost any interest in him and knew that the feeling wasn’t likely to come back any time soon. The image of the look in his eyes, the look like he wanted to kill her right then and there, was still fresh in her mind. And though for the most part, the terror had faded, the anger at the whole thing was still there. She did not forgive or forget easily, and that night he had painted himself as an enemy in her eyes. She would work with him because it was required, but she did not wish to get any closer to him than that. Especially not in the way that he seemed to be looking for.
“I suggest you take your arm from around me.” She said, her voice low and dangerous, making it clear that she was not joking around. Her anger flared more, and she did her best to keep it under control, though she pressed the blade a little harder against his skin without noticing she had done so. He was lucky that she had at least some sort of control over herself at the moment, or he would have been made less of a man right then and there. Had it been anyone else in any other situation, she would have sliced with her dagger without a second thought. But she supposed that cutting off Khanh’s manhood would probably not help with the already shaky ground she was on with the group. Though if he continued to press his luck, she wouldn't give a damn about her reputation with the group.
Sleep wasn’t something that had been coming easily to Somra. It was something that she had always had a problem with, and now that she was expected to be up most of the night, she was having an even harder time trying to sleep with the light of day shining overhead. Her body seemed to be dead set against her having any sort of restful sleep for the past few days, leaving her exhausted and a bit cranky. The tiredness had started showing on her face, and she hated that it was affecting her beauty, not to mention being tired for an extended period of time might start affecting her judgement, and that was something she could not have happen. Especially not with this group, or during any tasks that might be asked of her. Climbing a cliff face or a building was a lot more dangerous in her current state of exhaustion, one wrong move could mean injury or worse.
So it had taken her awhile, but she had finally drifted off to sleep, laying on her bedroll, with one arm tucked under her make shift pillow to prop her head up a bit more, she was laying on her side, her back to the rest of the room. Her free hand gripped one of her daggers, a habit that she had gained from a sense of self preservation. She knew that she was a small woman, and a lot of the places she had stayed and travelled had been less than favourable areas. She was used to having to defend herself with her daggers, though running away tended to be her go to when men decided they would take what ever they wanted from her regardless of her opinion on the matter. She wasn’t sure she would need the dagger among this group, but it was something she slept with every night, and she saw no reason to stop it. Better safe than sorry.
Her breathing was deep and slow, muscles relaxed and at ease as sleep claimed her. Her head was full of dreams of a better life, one where she didn’t have to sleep with a dagger in her hand, where safety and security were a thing she felt at all times. Her dreams often consisted of that, of a life that she had never known but one that she had been fighting to have since she was a young girl, running from a life as a slave at a brothel. Sometimes she wondered if perhaps there was some sort of Gods out there, and they had cursed her with such a life for a reason. Or perhaps it was just simply that she had been unlucky, to be born into servitude and to experience the things as a child that she had experienced.
As she slept, she was unaware of the impending interruption of her dreams that was sneaking up behind her, slowly making his way over until he was pressed right up against her. She was jolted awake, and her anger flared. Though she knew that she should do her best to remain calm, to pull away from him and tell him off instead of doing something impulsive, her sleep deprived brain decided that it had enough. She had just fallen asleep, only to be awoken a few minutes later by a man, Khanh of all
So, without the chance for a rational thought, her hand shot back, dagger gripped tightly in her fingers. She pressed it back against him, not enough to break skin, but enough that he would feel the sharp blade pressed to his thigh, dangerously close to a part of him that he probably did not wish to part with. She wanted him to know that she was not messing around, that if he pushed her, she would push back, consequences be damned. One thing Somra was very serious about was control over her own body and what happened to it. She was not the type to just allow a man to put his hands on her if she didn’t want it. And with this particular man, she definitely did not want it.
There had been a time when she would have gladly leaned back against him, played into his little game. He was an attractive man, but after his treatment of her their first night in Colchis, she was far from wanting his hands on her in any way shape or form. She had instantly lost any interest in him and knew that the feeling wasn’t likely to come back any time soon. The image of the look in his eyes, the look like he wanted to kill her right then and there, was still fresh in her mind. And though for the most part, the terror had faded, the anger at the whole thing was still there. She did not forgive or forget easily, and that night he had painted himself as an enemy in her eyes. She would work with him because it was required, but she did not wish to get any closer to him than that. Especially not in the way that he seemed to be looking for.
“I suggest you take your arm from around me.” She said, her voice low and dangerous, making it clear that she was not joking around. Her anger flared more, and she did her best to keep it under control, though she pressed the blade a little harder against his skin without noticing she had done so. He was lucky that she had at least some sort of control over herself at the moment, or he would have been made less of a man right then and there. Had it been anyone else in any other situation, she would have sliced with her dagger without a second thought. But she supposed that cutting off Khanh’s manhood would probably not help with the already shaky ground she was on with the group. Though if he continued to press his luck, she wouldn't give a damn about her reputation with the group.
Akhmad never slept. Or, at least, that was the rumour that circulated. When one never spoke, all kinds of fallacies and fancies were concocted around your bizarre and uncommon means of life. He never slept... He had no face and was burnt from head to toe... He ate onto the entrails of rats... He was no human at all but a spirit and monster in fabric wrappings that could neither speak nor hear but was a puppet on the strings of whatever God the person manifesting the story believed in.
No such tales were true. At least... most of the ones Akhmad had heard were pure fiction. Yet he obviously never spoke to correct them.
Regardless, the idea that Akhmad never slept was one of the tales that were as tall as the combined height of those who told it. No human being could live without sleep and Akhmad was a mortal like any other, despite popular rumour.
The reason such a story had started, however, was because Akhmad held peculiar sleeping patterns and would often sleep where he could not be witnessed in his moments of weakness. Not only was he a man who operated on the same nocturnal schedule as his fellow thieves, but he was also a Sariqas with a very particular specialty, meaning that he wasn't always required on certain missions. Or, his own tasks were required to be carried out during daylight hours so as to avoid certain suspicions or fall outs. Which meant that, while the majority of his activity was done at night when he could melt into the shadows, his 'working day' was not as cut and dry as others in his familial band of brothers.
As such, Akhmad caught moments of sleep as and when he needed rather than based on wherever the sun was positioned in the sky. And whenever he did, he tended to do so in a tree or hidden corner away from the Sariqas and any other living being. Rather than place his trust in those he worked and lived with, he preferred to remove himself entirely from the land of the living, as much as he could, sleep for a few hours and then return to the hideout with food or reserves, thereby hiding the fact that he had recently slumbered. In the end, it always looked as if Akhmad was either out performing some sort of duty for the group, or within their presence awake - the stimulus for the rumours that he never closed his eyes...
This day, Akhmad did not desire to sleep and had, instead, remained at the hideout, taking time to linger in his own hidden thoughts. As Khanh had predicted, he had taken up station on the rooftop. Not to necessarily protect or keep watch over the little sanctuary that the Sariqas had created for themselves, but to stretch out upon the building looking up towards the sunshine, his hands behind his head, elbows propped out and his ankles crossed, stretched out across the warm stone. His eyes were closed but he was far from sleeping, for he listened to the world around him with in intense sensitivity that could only be achieved through losing one of your senses - in Akhmad's case, his sense of taste - and severe mental training.
Listening to both conversations that were happening far down the street and the shuffling of bodies beneath the rooftop and down in the building below, Akhmad heard when voices came from the two that were supposed to be sleeping inside.
Knowing who those two were and the history that had flowed between them so far - one that was as rocky as the lands in which they now camped - Akhmad coiled himself up and away from the rooftop, rising to his feet in a single motion that required no hands to support his ascent and then with three long strides, a leap and a hold upon the edge of the building, he flew and slipped inside the upstairs chamber through its window. Feet first, Akhmad balanced his weight in the air and landed with the softest of thuds that was almost unnoticeable behind the snarled words that Somra issued in a threatening tone, the sunshine from outside flickering off of the blade she held dangerously against Khanh's thigh.
Noting the way in which the man had snuggled up to Somra's backside, it was easy to tell the situation that had occurred in the seconds before Akhmad's arrival and he felt a momentary flicker of resigned frustration that these two had to work so hard to irritate the other.
Taking several quick yet silent steps across the floor, Akhmad threw out a foot and kicked sideways at Somra's wrist. The touch was fairly gentle and lazy and basically just a firm comment of - 'Don't be an idiot. Put that away.'
He then offered a similar message to Khanh. Where the warrior’s arm had curled around Somra's waist and his hand fallen to the floor on her other side, Akhmad moved around in that direction and was careful to set his foot down upon his second-in-command's fingers. The touch didn't take his full weight and was lifted quickly but it was strong enough to likely smart the digits beneath the sole of his foot and encourage the man to retract his hold on the girl.
Honestly... if they were going to act like children, they would be treated as such...
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Akhmad never slept. Or, at least, that was the rumour that circulated. When one never spoke, all kinds of fallacies and fancies were concocted around your bizarre and uncommon means of life. He never slept... He had no face and was burnt from head to toe... He ate onto the entrails of rats... He was no human at all but a spirit and monster in fabric wrappings that could neither speak nor hear but was a puppet on the strings of whatever God the person manifesting the story believed in.
No such tales were true. At least... most of the ones Akhmad had heard were pure fiction. Yet he obviously never spoke to correct them.
Regardless, the idea that Akhmad never slept was one of the tales that were as tall as the combined height of those who told it. No human being could live without sleep and Akhmad was a mortal like any other, despite popular rumour.
The reason such a story had started, however, was because Akhmad held peculiar sleeping patterns and would often sleep where he could not be witnessed in his moments of weakness. Not only was he a man who operated on the same nocturnal schedule as his fellow thieves, but he was also a Sariqas with a very particular specialty, meaning that he wasn't always required on certain missions. Or, his own tasks were required to be carried out during daylight hours so as to avoid certain suspicions or fall outs. Which meant that, while the majority of his activity was done at night when he could melt into the shadows, his 'working day' was not as cut and dry as others in his familial band of brothers.
As such, Akhmad caught moments of sleep as and when he needed rather than based on wherever the sun was positioned in the sky. And whenever he did, he tended to do so in a tree or hidden corner away from the Sariqas and any other living being. Rather than place his trust in those he worked and lived with, he preferred to remove himself entirely from the land of the living, as much as he could, sleep for a few hours and then return to the hideout with food or reserves, thereby hiding the fact that he had recently slumbered. In the end, it always looked as if Akhmad was either out performing some sort of duty for the group, or within their presence awake - the stimulus for the rumours that he never closed his eyes...
This day, Akhmad did not desire to sleep and had, instead, remained at the hideout, taking time to linger in his own hidden thoughts. As Khanh had predicted, he had taken up station on the rooftop. Not to necessarily protect or keep watch over the little sanctuary that the Sariqas had created for themselves, but to stretch out upon the building looking up towards the sunshine, his hands behind his head, elbows propped out and his ankles crossed, stretched out across the warm stone. His eyes were closed but he was far from sleeping, for he listened to the world around him with in intense sensitivity that could only be achieved through losing one of your senses - in Akhmad's case, his sense of taste - and severe mental training.
Listening to both conversations that were happening far down the street and the shuffling of bodies beneath the rooftop and down in the building below, Akhmad heard when voices came from the two that were supposed to be sleeping inside.
Knowing who those two were and the history that had flowed between them so far - one that was as rocky as the lands in which they now camped - Akhmad coiled himself up and away from the rooftop, rising to his feet in a single motion that required no hands to support his ascent and then with three long strides, a leap and a hold upon the edge of the building, he flew and slipped inside the upstairs chamber through its window. Feet first, Akhmad balanced his weight in the air and landed with the softest of thuds that was almost unnoticeable behind the snarled words that Somra issued in a threatening tone, the sunshine from outside flickering off of the blade she held dangerously against Khanh's thigh.
Noting the way in which the man had snuggled up to Somra's backside, it was easy to tell the situation that had occurred in the seconds before Akhmad's arrival and he felt a momentary flicker of resigned frustration that these two had to work so hard to irritate the other.
Taking several quick yet silent steps across the floor, Akhmad threw out a foot and kicked sideways at Somra's wrist. The touch was fairly gentle and lazy and basically just a firm comment of - 'Don't be an idiot. Put that away.'
He then offered a similar message to Khanh. Where the warrior’s arm had curled around Somra's waist and his hand fallen to the floor on her other side, Akhmad moved around in that direction and was careful to set his foot down upon his second-in-command's fingers. The touch didn't take his full weight and was lifted quickly but it was strong enough to likely smart the digits beneath the sole of his foot and encourage the man to retract his hold on the girl.
Honestly... if they were going to act like children, they would be treated as such...
Akhmad never slept. Or, at least, that was the rumour that circulated. When one never spoke, all kinds of fallacies and fancies were concocted around your bizarre and uncommon means of life. He never slept... He had no face and was burnt from head to toe... He ate onto the entrails of rats... He was no human at all but a spirit and monster in fabric wrappings that could neither speak nor hear but was a puppet on the strings of whatever God the person manifesting the story believed in.
No such tales were true. At least... most of the ones Akhmad had heard were pure fiction. Yet he obviously never spoke to correct them.
Regardless, the idea that Akhmad never slept was one of the tales that were as tall as the combined height of those who told it. No human being could live without sleep and Akhmad was a mortal like any other, despite popular rumour.
The reason such a story had started, however, was because Akhmad held peculiar sleeping patterns and would often sleep where he could not be witnessed in his moments of weakness. Not only was he a man who operated on the same nocturnal schedule as his fellow thieves, but he was also a Sariqas with a very particular specialty, meaning that he wasn't always required on certain missions. Or, his own tasks were required to be carried out during daylight hours so as to avoid certain suspicions or fall outs. Which meant that, while the majority of his activity was done at night when he could melt into the shadows, his 'working day' was not as cut and dry as others in his familial band of brothers.
As such, Akhmad caught moments of sleep as and when he needed rather than based on wherever the sun was positioned in the sky. And whenever he did, he tended to do so in a tree or hidden corner away from the Sariqas and any other living being. Rather than place his trust in those he worked and lived with, he preferred to remove himself entirely from the land of the living, as much as he could, sleep for a few hours and then return to the hideout with food or reserves, thereby hiding the fact that he had recently slumbered. In the end, it always looked as if Akhmad was either out performing some sort of duty for the group, or within their presence awake - the stimulus for the rumours that he never closed his eyes...
This day, Akhmad did not desire to sleep and had, instead, remained at the hideout, taking time to linger in his own hidden thoughts. As Khanh had predicted, he had taken up station on the rooftop. Not to necessarily protect or keep watch over the little sanctuary that the Sariqas had created for themselves, but to stretch out upon the building looking up towards the sunshine, his hands behind his head, elbows propped out and his ankles crossed, stretched out across the warm stone. His eyes were closed but he was far from sleeping, for he listened to the world around him with in intense sensitivity that could only be achieved through losing one of your senses - in Akhmad's case, his sense of taste - and severe mental training.
Listening to both conversations that were happening far down the street and the shuffling of bodies beneath the rooftop and down in the building below, Akhmad heard when voices came from the two that were supposed to be sleeping inside.
Knowing who those two were and the history that had flowed between them so far - one that was as rocky as the lands in which they now camped - Akhmad coiled himself up and away from the rooftop, rising to his feet in a single motion that required no hands to support his ascent and then with three long strides, a leap and a hold upon the edge of the building, he flew and slipped inside the upstairs chamber through its window. Feet first, Akhmad balanced his weight in the air and landed with the softest of thuds that was almost unnoticeable behind the snarled words that Somra issued in a threatening tone, the sunshine from outside flickering off of the blade she held dangerously against Khanh's thigh.
Noting the way in which the man had snuggled up to Somra's backside, it was easy to tell the situation that had occurred in the seconds before Akhmad's arrival and he felt a momentary flicker of resigned frustration that these two had to work so hard to irritate the other.
Taking several quick yet silent steps across the floor, Akhmad threw out a foot and kicked sideways at Somra's wrist. The touch was fairly gentle and lazy and basically just a firm comment of - 'Don't be an idiot. Put that away.'
He then offered a similar message to Khanh. Where the warrior’s arm had curled around Somra's waist and his hand fallen to the floor on her other side, Akhmad moved around in that direction and was careful to set his foot down upon his second-in-command's fingers. The touch didn't take his full weight and was lifted quickly but it was strong enough to likely smart the digits beneath the sole of his foot and encourage the man to retract his hold on the girl.
Honestly... if they were going to act like children, they would be treated as such...
His mistake, he decided, was assuming that she wouldn’t be armed. If she’d not had the dagger, then this could easily have turned into some sort of shoving match. He’d be in no danger whatsoever and, because he wasn’t truly threatened, she would come to no harm as well, especially since he’d instigated this predicament. Whatever Somra thought of him, Khanh wasn’t insensible to right and wrong, nor was he some sort of idiot monster that she’d spun him into in her mind. The presence of the dagger pressed to the inside of his thigh, though, that was a problem. A legitimate problem.
Her rigid body and gritted teeth made it evident that she could and would make good on the threat. He made no sudden movements. Unlike her, he’d been in situations where he was threatened with bodily harm at close quarters. The trick was not to show fear, not to make sudden movements, not to give the person doing the threatening any more reason than they already felt like they had to carry out their violent desires.
“Easy,” he said in a low voice, like she was a rabid dog that needed talking down. Slowly, he did remove his arm, watching the profile of her pretty face and wondering how she’d look with a broken nose. Really, he would have been happy with the sparring. Probably happier than if she’d given in to his original offer, but that knife, that stupid knife changed the tone of the game. Somra, Somra he thought to himself. Determined to make an enemy of me...you’ll get your wish he promised her internally.
The sliding of shadows on the wall drew his notice and he watched Akhmad drop into view. Khanh smirked to himself, and dropped his head back onto his arm. Now that the Sariqas most silent brother was in the room, Khanh felt even less fear than he had a moment ago. From this angle, despite what Somra might have liked, she could only have cut his manhood, not remove it. With Akhmad back in the room, Khanh decided to add insult to injury for Somra after Akhmad kicked the knife away and replaced his arm around her, though Akhmad made it fairly clear by the press of his shoe on Khanh’s fingers that this was not the time.
Khanh cut his bright eyes up to the other man and narrowed them. He didn’t like the hint of a threat, not from anyone, least of all Akhmad. Taking his fingers out from beneath Akhmad’s shoe, Khanh pushed away from Somra and stood, towering over Akhmad now. “Fine,” he hissed. “If you’re going to be rude about it, you babysit her. I’m going to the roof.”
He resisted aiming a kick at Somra. Outranking Akhmad in the group didn’t matter quite so much at this very second, because he knew that Nahash wouldn’t take his side in this little argument. Akhmad knew that too, which was why Khanh didn’t push. However, he really wasn’t sleepy by now and stalked away, taking his blanket with him and hauled himself up onto the roof. With his blanket about his shoulders and over his head like a hood, he glared out at the city. Idiot girl. Meddlesome mute.
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His mistake, he decided, was assuming that she wouldn’t be armed. If she’d not had the dagger, then this could easily have turned into some sort of shoving match. He’d be in no danger whatsoever and, because he wasn’t truly threatened, she would come to no harm as well, especially since he’d instigated this predicament. Whatever Somra thought of him, Khanh wasn’t insensible to right and wrong, nor was he some sort of idiot monster that she’d spun him into in her mind. The presence of the dagger pressed to the inside of his thigh, though, that was a problem. A legitimate problem.
Her rigid body and gritted teeth made it evident that she could and would make good on the threat. He made no sudden movements. Unlike her, he’d been in situations where he was threatened with bodily harm at close quarters. The trick was not to show fear, not to make sudden movements, not to give the person doing the threatening any more reason than they already felt like they had to carry out their violent desires.
“Easy,” he said in a low voice, like she was a rabid dog that needed talking down. Slowly, he did remove his arm, watching the profile of her pretty face and wondering how she’d look with a broken nose. Really, he would have been happy with the sparring. Probably happier than if she’d given in to his original offer, but that knife, that stupid knife changed the tone of the game. Somra, Somra he thought to himself. Determined to make an enemy of me...you’ll get your wish he promised her internally.
The sliding of shadows on the wall drew his notice and he watched Akhmad drop into view. Khanh smirked to himself, and dropped his head back onto his arm. Now that the Sariqas most silent brother was in the room, Khanh felt even less fear than he had a moment ago. From this angle, despite what Somra might have liked, she could only have cut his manhood, not remove it. With Akhmad back in the room, Khanh decided to add insult to injury for Somra after Akhmad kicked the knife away and replaced his arm around her, though Akhmad made it fairly clear by the press of his shoe on Khanh’s fingers that this was not the time.
Khanh cut his bright eyes up to the other man and narrowed them. He didn’t like the hint of a threat, not from anyone, least of all Akhmad. Taking his fingers out from beneath Akhmad’s shoe, Khanh pushed away from Somra and stood, towering over Akhmad now. “Fine,” he hissed. “If you’re going to be rude about it, you babysit her. I’m going to the roof.”
He resisted aiming a kick at Somra. Outranking Akhmad in the group didn’t matter quite so much at this very second, because he knew that Nahash wouldn’t take his side in this little argument. Akhmad knew that too, which was why Khanh didn’t push. However, he really wasn’t sleepy by now and stalked away, taking his blanket with him and hauled himself up onto the roof. With his blanket about his shoulders and over his head like a hood, he glared out at the city. Idiot girl. Meddlesome mute.
His mistake, he decided, was assuming that she wouldn’t be armed. If she’d not had the dagger, then this could easily have turned into some sort of shoving match. He’d be in no danger whatsoever and, because he wasn’t truly threatened, she would come to no harm as well, especially since he’d instigated this predicament. Whatever Somra thought of him, Khanh wasn’t insensible to right and wrong, nor was he some sort of idiot monster that she’d spun him into in her mind. The presence of the dagger pressed to the inside of his thigh, though, that was a problem. A legitimate problem.
Her rigid body and gritted teeth made it evident that she could and would make good on the threat. He made no sudden movements. Unlike her, he’d been in situations where he was threatened with bodily harm at close quarters. The trick was not to show fear, not to make sudden movements, not to give the person doing the threatening any more reason than they already felt like they had to carry out their violent desires.
“Easy,” he said in a low voice, like she was a rabid dog that needed talking down. Slowly, he did remove his arm, watching the profile of her pretty face and wondering how she’d look with a broken nose. Really, he would have been happy with the sparring. Probably happier than if she’d given in to his original offer, but that knife, that stupid knife changed the tone of the game. Somra, Somra he thought to himself. Determined to make an enemy of me...you’ll get your wish he promised her internally.
The sliding of shadows on the wall drew his notice and he watched Akhmad drop into view. Khanh smirked to himself, and dropped his head back onto his arm. Now that the Sariqas most silent brother was in the room, Khanh felt even less fear than he had a moment ago. From this angle, despite what Somra might have liked, she could only have cut his manhood, not remove it. With Akhmad back in the room, Khanh decided to add insult to injury for Somra after Akhmad kicked the knife away and replaced his arm around her, though Akhmad made it fairly clear by the press of his shoe on Khanh’s fingers that this was not the time.
Khanh cut his bright eyes up to the other man and narrowed them. He didn’t like the hint of a threat, not from anyone, least of all Akhmad. Taking his fingers out from beneath Akhmad’s shoe, Khanh pushed away from Somra and stood, towering over Akhmad now. “Fine,” he hissed. “If you’re going to be rude about it, you babysit her. I’m going to the roof.”
He resisted aiming a kick at Somra. Outranking Akhmad in the group didn’t matter quite so much at this very second, because he knew that Nahash wouldn’t take his side in this little argument. Akhmad knew that too, which was why Khanh didn’t push. However, he really wasn’t sleepy by now and stalked away, taking his blanket with him and hauled himself up onto the roof. With his blanket about his shoulders and over his head like a hood, he glared out at the city. Idiot girl. Meddlesome mute.
Somra grit her teeth harder, ready to use the dagger on Khanh, consequences be damned, when she saw Akhmad enter the room, as silent as the shadows. She felt the gentle kick to her wrist, though it was more of a nudge than anything, and she loosened the grip on the knife, pulling it away from Khanh’s thigh. Her grip tightened again as he threw his arm back around her after taking it away and it took everything in her not to just flip around and stab him right that second.
Lucky for her, Akhmad stopped Khanh, and he got up and stormed off. She breathed a sigh when he was gone from the room, not realizing she had felt such tension, her eyes burned as she held back tears of relief. She tucked the dagger back where it had come from once she was sure Khanh was gone for the moment. One of her worst nightmares was a man forcing himself upon her, and though she carried daggers and could make a quick escape, there was a very real possibility that a man could over power her anyways. She quickly stood and turned her back on Akhmad, hoping he didn’t see her eyes watering as she regained her composure, busying herself pretending to dig for something in her bags.
She knew he could not answer, but she wondered if he knew that she appreciated what he had just done, though she was sure he didn’t do it to protect her or because he liked her. At this point she was absolutely certain that none of them liked her, and half of them would rather see her dead than deal with her. She didn’t understand it, after that first night, she had toned her personality down, she had been quiet, kept to herself, done what she was told. It seemed nothing she did mattered to them. She could care less about what Khanh thought of her, but it bothered her that she couldn’t even get /one/ of them on her side.
She grabbed her cloak from her things and slipped it over her shoulders, turning to look at Akhmad now that she had managed to quell the tears that had threatened to spill over.
“I know you do not expect such, but I would like to offer my thanks. I do not mean to cause issues, I merely wished to sleep.” She said, pulling her hood up over her dark hair. Though she would have liked to have her expression remain neutral, she was certain that Akhmad could see the defeat written all over her face. It weighed heavy on her, every interaction with Khanh just seemed to make it worse.
“If I am needed, I will be seeking rest elsewhere. I will remain nearby so that I may return if I am called upon.” She said, trying to steel her nerves. The normally stubborn and tough young woman was feeling worse for wear as the days went by and she was forced to remain in Khanh’s presence.
She paused for a moment, her nearly black eyes locked on his.
“Thank you.” She said again before she ducked her head and hurried out the door, determined to put as much distance between herself and Khanh as she dared. Once she was out of the house, she took care to take back alley paths, ones that she knew were blocked from view up on the roof of the house. A path she had plotted the first night she had stayed up there, after Khanh’s initial attack. The only one that lead this direction away from the house without being seen from above.
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Somra grit her teeth harder, ready to use the dagger on Khanh, consequences be damned, when she saw Akhmad enter the room, as silent as the shadows. She felt the gentle kick to her wrist, though it was more of a nudge than anything, and she loosened the grip on the knife, pulling it away from Khanh’s thigh. Her grip tightened again as he threw his arm back around her after taking it away and it took everything in her not to just flip around and stab him right that second.
Lucky for her, Akhmad stopped Khanh, and he got up and stormed off. She breathed a sigh when he was gone from the room, not realizing she had felt such tension, her eyes burned as she held back tears of relief. She tucked the dagger back where it had come from once she was sure Khanh was gone for the moment. One of her worst nightmares was a man forcing himself upon her, and though she carried daggers and could make a quick escape, there was a very real possibility that a man could over power her anyways. She quickly stood and turned her back on Akhmad, hoping he didn’t see her eyes watering as she regained her composure, busying herself pretending to dig for something in her bags.
She knew he could not answer, but she wondered if he knew that she appreciated what he had just done, though she was sure he didn’t do it to protect her or because he liked her. At this point she was absolutely certain that none of them liked her, and half of them would rather see her dead than deal with her. She didn’t understand it, after that first night, she had toned her personality down, she had been quiet, kept to herself, done what she was told. It seemed nothing she did mattered to them. She could care less about what Khanh thought of her, but it bothered her that she couldn’t even get /one/ of them on her side.
She grabbed her cloak from her things and slipped it over her shoulders, turning to look at Akhmad now that she had managed to quell the tears that had threatened to spill over.
“I know you do not expect such, but I would like to offer my thanks. I do not mean to cause issues, I merely wished to sleep.” She said, pulling her hood up over her dark hair. Though she would have liked to have her expression remain neutral, she was certain that Akhmad could see the defeat written all over her face. It weighed heavy on her, every interaction with Khanh just seemed to make it worse.
“If I am needed, I will be seeking rest elsewhere. I will remain nearby so that I may return if I am called upon.” She said, trying to steel her nerves. The normally stubborn and tough young woman was feeling worse for wear as the days went by and she was forced to remain in Khanh’s presence.
She paused for a moment, her nearly black eyes locked on his.
“Thank you.” She said again before she ducked her head and hurried out the door, determined to put as much distance between herself and Khanh as she dared. Once she was out of the house, she took care to take back alley paths, ones that she knew were blocked from view up on the roof of the house. A path she had plotted the first night she had stayed up there, after Khanh’s initial attack. The only one that lead this direction away from the house without being seen from above.
Somra grit her teeth harder, ready to use the dagger on Khanh, consequences be damned, when she saw Akhmad enter the room, as silent as the shadows. She felt the gentle kick to her wrist, though it was more of a nudge than anything, and she loosened the grip on the knife, pulling it away from Khanh’s thigh. Her grip tightened again as he threw his arm back around her after taking it away and it took everything in her not to just flip around and stab him right that second.
Lucky for her, Akhmad stopped Khanh, and he got up and stormed off. She breathed a sigh when he was gone from the room, not realizing she had felt such tension, her eyes burned as she held back tears of relief. She tucked the dagger back where it had come from once she was sure Khanh was gone for the moment. One of her worst nightmares was a man forcing himself upon her, and though she carried daggers and could make a quick escape, there was a very real possibility that a man could over power her anyways. She quickly stood and turned her back on Akhmad, hoping he didn’t see her eyes watering as she regained her composure, busying herself pretending to dig for something in her bags.
She knew he could not answer, but she wondered if he knew that she appreciated what he had just done, though she was sure he didn’t do it to protect her or because he liked her. At this point she was absolutely certain that none of them liked her, and half of them would rather see her dead than deal with her. She didn’t understand it, after that first night, she had toned her personality down, she had been quiet, kept to herself, done what she was told. It seemed nothing she did mattered to them. She could care less about what Khanh thought of her, but it bothered her that she couldn’t even get /one/ of them on her side.
She grabbed her cloak from her things and slipped it over her shoulders, turning to look at Akhmad now that she had managed to quell the tears that had threatened to spill over.
“I know you do not expect such, but I would like to offer my thanks. I do not mean to cause issues, I merely wished to sleep.” She said, pulling her hood up over her dark hair. Though she would have liked to have her expression remain neutral, she was certain that Akhmad could see the defeat written all over her face. It weighed heavy on her, every interaction with Khanh just seemed to make it worse.
“If I am needed, I will be seeking rest elsewhere. I will remain nearby so that I may return if I am called upon.” She said, trying to steel her nerves. The normally stubborn and tough young woman was feeling worse for wear as the days went by and she was forced to remain in Khanh’s presence.
She paused for a moment, her nearly black eyes locked on his.
“Thank you.” She said again before she ducked her head and hurried out the door, determined to put as much distance between herself and Khanh as she dared. Once she was out of the house, she took care to take back alley paths, ones that she knew were blocked from view up on the roof of the house. A path she had plotted the first night she had stayed up there, after Khanh’s initial attack. The only one that lead this direction away from the house without being seen from above.
Akhmad was not normally a peace-keeper by nature. But he was a sensible being who knew what it would mean to have someone leave the Sariqas in animosity. It would mean a hunt. To take them down before they could reveal secrets and identities. Perhaps Somra hadn't realised exactly what she had gotten herself into by joining their little band of make merry thieves, but that wasn't the issue here. The issue was that that didn't matter. Full disclosure was never part of the deal with the Sariqas and quitting was even less so. If Somra didn't start to blend with the group, didn't find a home with them, she would be ostracised and exiled from it. And the only means of exile for a band so cloaked in required secrecy was death. A death that Akhmad would be expected to enact.
So, he told himself, he was acting to save himself the work later down the line. To protect their band and family of thieving bastards from the threat of a weakened link in the chain. And he darted out of the window after Somra and tracked her quickly through the streets.
How he was expecting to give her some form of lesson in how to be one of their kind, he wasn't sure. As a mute, he relied more on instinct and a communication of souls and thoughts than of words. He would just have to hope such a thing won through for the two of them. Either that, or Somra would be meeting his blade far sooner than he would have liked and the group would be one down once more.
It wasn't hard to keep up with the woman, for she wasn't trying to lose him, only remain out of sight of the rooftops, if Akhmad was any judge of the angle of the streets she chose. Hiding from Khanh. Akhmad felt a spark of amusement at that. It had been a long time since he had ever seen Khanh as a threat to him. Fearsome, powerful and a pain the neck, certainly. But never something to fear. That was what familiarity and family could do.
Jogging up to walk at Somra's side, Akhmad nudged his head in a forward direction and then sprinted onwards, clearly expecting her to follow. He darted through the streets like a ghost, at a faster pace than she had been moving only a moment before. He drew them to the edge of the street where it dropped to the next row of houses down the mountainside and then, without breaking stride, leapt the several feet to the roof below.
He landed softly like a cat and continued onwards, doing the same thing across several more rooftops until they were a fair distance away from their hideout. Looking around to note if Somra was following him, Akhmad was quickly to jut out a leg in the dark and catch her foot upon her next landing, dripping her and ensuring she fell upon the roof. In a moment, Akhmad was brace over her his forearms and toes holding his weight above her frame, not touching her, but imprisoning her in his limbs. His gaze was hard and strong as it stared down at her, assessing her reaction to his stoic and silent cage...
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Akhmad was not normally a peace-keeper by nature. But he was a sensible being who knew what it would mean to have someone leave the Sariqas in animosity. It would mean a hunt. To take them down before they could reveal secrets and identities. Perhaps Somra hadn't realised exactly what she had gotten herself into by joining their little band of make merry thieves, but that wasn't the issue here. The issue was that that didn't matter. Full disclosure was never part of the deal with the Sariqas and quitting was even less so. If Somra didn't start to blend with the group, didn't find a home with them, she would be ostracised and exiled from it. And the only means of exile for a band so cloaked in required secrecy was death. A death that Akhmad would be expected to enact.
So, he told himself, he was acting to save himself the work later down the line. To protect their band and family of thieving bastards from the threat of a weakened link in the chain. And he darted out of the window after Somra and tracked her quickly through the streets.
How he was expecting to give her some form of lesson in how to be one of their kind, he wasn't sure. As a mute, he relied more on instinct and a communication of souls and thoughts than of words. He would just have to hope such a thing won through for the two of them. Either that, or Somra would be meeting his blade far sooner than he would have liked and the group would be one down once more.
It wasn't hard to keep up with the woman, for she wasn't trying to lose him, only remain out of sight of the rooftops, if Akhmad was any judge of the angle of the streets she chose. Hiding from Khanh. Akhmad felt a spark of amusement at that. It had been a long time since he had ever seen Khanh as a threat to him. Fearsome, powerful and a pain the neck, certainly. But never something to fear. That was what familiarity and family could do.
Jogging up to walk at Somra's side, Akhmad nudged his head in a forward direction and then sprinted onwards, clearly expecting her to follow. He darted through the streets like a ghost, at a faster pace than she had been moving only a moment before. He drew them to the edge of the street where it dropped to the next row of houses down the mountainside and then, without breaking stride, leapt the several feet to the roof below.
He landed softly like a cat and continued onwards, doing the same thing across several more rooftops until they were a fair distance away from their hideout. Looking around to note if Somra was following him, Akhmad was quickly to jut out a leg in the dark and catch her foot upon her next landing, dripping her and ensuring she fell upon the roof. In a moment, Akhmad was brace over her his forearms and toes holding his weight above her frame, not touching her, but imprisoning her in his limbs. His gaze was hard and strong as it stared down at her, assessing her reaction to his stoic and silent cage...
Akhmad was not normally a peace-keeper by nature. But he was a sensible being who knew what it would mean to have someone leave the Sariqas in animosity. It would mean a hunt. To take them down before they could reveal secrets and identities. Perhaps Somra hadn't realised exactly what she had gotten herself into by joining their little band of make merry thieves, but that wasn't the issue here. The issue was that that didn't matter. Full disclosure was never part of the deal with the Sariqas and quitting was even less so. If Somra didn't start to blend with the group, didn't find a home with them, she would be ostracised and exiled from it. And the only means of exile for a band so cloaked in required secrecy was death. A death that Akhmad would be expected to enact.
So, he told himself, he was acting to save himself the work later down the line. To protect their band and family of thieving bastards from the threat of a weakened link in the chain. And he darted out of the window after Somra and tracked her quickly through the streets.
How he was expecting to give her some form of lesson in how to be one of their kind, he wasn't sure. As a mute, he relied more on instinct and a communication of souls and thoughts than of words. He would just have to hope such a thing won through for the two of them. Either that, or Somra would be meeting his blade far sooner than he would have liked and the group would be one down once more.
It wasn't hard to keep up with the woman, for she wasn't trying to lose him, only remain out of sight of the rooftops, if Akhmad was any judge of the angle of the streets she chose. Hiding from Khanh. Akhmad felt a spark of amusement at that. It had been a long time since he had ever seen Khanh as a threat to him. Fearsome, powerful and a pain the neck, certainly. But never something to fear. That was what familiarity and family could do.
Jogging up to walk at Somra's side, Akhmad nudged his head in a forward direction and then sprinted onwards, clearly expecting her to follow. He darted through the streets like a ghost, at a faster pace than she had been moving only a moment before. He drew them to the edge of the street where it dropped to the next row of houses down the mountainside and then, without breaking stride, leapt the several feet to the roof below.
He landed softly like a cat and continued onwards, doing the same thing across several more rooftops until they were a fair distance away from their hideout. Looking around to note if Somra was following him, Akhmad was quickly to jut out a leg in the dark and catch her foot upon her next landing, dripping her and ensuring she fell upon the roof. In a moment, Akhmad was brace over her his forearms and toes holding his weight above her frame, not touching her, but imprisoning her in his limbs. His gaze was hard and strong as it stared down at her, assessing her reaction to his stoic and silent cage...
Somra hadn’t at all expected either of them to follow her, in fact she had been relying on the sweet peace of being alone for at least awhile, and the potential of getting some sleep, uninterrupted by men who assumed it was okay to touch her as Khanh had attempted. She felt her anger flare again as she thought of it, who was he to assume that such things were appropriate? Did he think himself so great that any woman would just excuse his actions and melt into his arms? He had chosen the wrong woman if he thought such things would happen.
So, she was caught offguard as he came up beside her, though she did not show it as she kept her expression neutral, dark eyes watching as he nodded forward before increasing his speed. She sighed to herself. Great. What did he want from her? Was she to be punished for defending herself from unwanted touching? Her frustrations with the group only grew by the day, no matter what she did it seemed that she would be punished for it. She had been following commands, keeping quiet and submissive, until Khanh had decided once more to put her in a position where she had no choice but to defend herself. And yet she was the one who would be hassled for such things. She felt her distaste for the group grow more, and her thoughts turn once more to escape from their ranks.
But for now she did as she was told, though the command had not been verbal, she knew what it was he wanted, she was to follow him. She followed him with ease, her small frame making speed a non-issue as her dress billowed out behind her. As he lept down onto the roof of the house in front of him, she too followed only a few moments behind, making the jump and landing with an easy grace. Her movements were that of a dancer, smooth and natural, as if she were born leaping to and fro.
Somra followed him across the rooftops, until suddenly she was losing her balance, caught by the man’s foot, she had realized it was there only half a second too late, causing her to fall onto the rooftop below them, though she managed to land without injury. She felt her anger rise up again, was this something he thought funny? What was his issue? Was it some retribution for daring to defy Khanh’s advances? What ever it was, she gritted her teeth to keep from making a noise, though she wanted nothing more than to swing a fist at his face right now.
He was pinning her down with his body, making it so she would need to physically push him off of her if she wished to escape, staring down at her with those intense eyes of his. She felt the panic set in, doubting that his intentions were anything sexual, her past experiences clouded her judgement and panic began to ensue. She needed to fight through it, lest she make a scene and find his dagger in her heart.
“Get. Off. Of. Me.” She hissed quietly, a fire burning in her eyes as she spoke, her gaze locked on his, not turning from the intensity of his gaze.
“Do not treat me like a child. I have the right to defend myself when lumbering idiots like Khanh decide I am theirs to do with as they please.” She said, making sure to keep her voice low so she would not be heard, though the venom in her tone was clear, this was not a subject she would be swayed from.
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Somra hadn’t at all expected either of them to follow her, in fact she had been relying on the sweet peace of being alone for at least awhile, and the potential of getting some sleep, uninterrupted by men who assumed it was okay to touch her as Khanh had attempted. She felt her anger flare again as she thought of it, who was he to assume that such things were appropriate? Did he think himself so great that any woman would just excuse his actions and melt into his arms? He had chosen the wrong woman if he thought such things would happen.
So, she was caught offguard as he came up beside her, though she did not show it as she kept her expression neutral, dark eyes watching as he nodded forward before increasing his speed. She sighed to herself. Great. What did he want from her? Was she to be punished for defending herself from unwanted touching? Her frustrations with the group only grew by the day, no matter what she did it seemed that she would be punished for it. She had been following commands, keeping quiet and submissive, until Khanh had decided once more to put her in a position where she had no choice but to defend herself. And yet she was the one who would be hassled for such things. She felt her distaste for the group grow more, and her thoughts turn once more to escape from their ranks.
But for now she did as she was told, though the command had not been verbal, she knew what it was he wanted, she was to follow him. She followed him with ease, her small frame making speed a non-issue as her dress billowed out behind her. As he lept down onto the roof of the house in front of him, she too followed only a few moments behind, making the jump and landing with an easy grace. Her movements were that of a dancer, smooth and natural, as if she were born leaping to and fro.
Somra followed him across the rooftops, until suddenly she was losing her balance, caught by the man’s foot, she had realized it was there only half a second too late, causing her to fall onto the rooftop below them, though she managed to land without injury. She felt her anger rise up again, was this something he thought funny? What was his issue? Was it some retribution for daring to defy Khanh’s advances? What ever it was, she gritted her teeth to keep from making a noise, though she wanted nothing more than to swing a fist at his face right now.
He was pinning her down with his body, making it so she would need to physically push him off of her if she wished to escape, staring down at her with those intense eyes of his. She felt the panic set in, doubting that his intentions were anything sexual, her past experiences clouded her judgement and panic began to ensue. She needed to fight through it, lest she make a scene and find his dagger in her heart.
“Get. Off. Of. Me.” She hissed quietly, a fire burning in her eyes as she spoke, her gaze locked on his, not turning from the intensity of his gaze.
“Do not treat me like a child. I have the right to defend myself when lumbering idiots like Khanh decide I am theirs to do with as they please.” She said, making sure to keep her voice low so she would not be heard, though the venom in her tone was clear, this was not a subject she would be swayed from.
Somra hadn’t at all expected either of them to follow her, in fact she had been relying on the sweet peace of being alone for at least awhile, and the potential of getting some sleep, uninterrupted by men who assumed it was okay to touch her as Khanh had attempted. She felt her anger flare again as she thought of it, who was he to assume that such things were appropriate? Did he think himself so great that any woman would just excuse his actions and melt into his arms? He had chosen the wrong woman if he thought such things would happen.
So, she was caught offguard as he came up beside her, though she did not show it as she kept her expression neutral, dark eyes watching as he nodded forward before increasing his speed. She sighed to herself. Great. What did he want from her? Was she to be punished for defending herself from unwanted touching? Her frustrations with the group only grew by the day, no matter what she did it seemed that she would be punished for it. She had been following commands, keeping quiet and submissive, until Khanh had decided once more to put her in a position where she had no choice but to defend herself. And yet she was the one who would be hassled for such things. She felt her distaste for the group grow more, and her thoughts turn once more to escape from their ranks.
But for now she did as she was told, though the command had not been verbal, she knew what it was he wanted, she was to follow him. She followed him with ease, her small frame making speed a non-issue as her dress billowed out behind her. As he lept down onto the roof of the house in front of him, she too followed only a few moments behind, making the jump and landing with an easy grace. Her movements were that of a dancer, smooth and natural, as if she were born leaping to and fro.
Somra followed him across the rooftops, until suddenly she was losing her balance, caught by the man’s foot, she had realized it was there only half a second too late, causing her to fall onto the rooftop below them, though she managed to land without injury. She felt her anger rise up again, was this something he thought funny? What was his issue? Was it some retribution for daring to defy Khanh’s advances? What ever it was, she gritted her teeth to keep from making a noise, though she wanted nothing more than to swing a fist at his face right now.
He was pinning her down with his body, making it so she would need to physically push him off of her if she wished to escape, staring down at her with those intense eyes of his. She felt the panic set in, doubting that his intentions were anything sexual, her past experiences clouded her judgement and panic began to ensue. She needed to fight through it, lest she make a scene and find his dagger in her heart.
“Get. Off. Of. Me.” She hissed quietly, a fire burning in her eyes as she spoke, her gaze locked on his, not turning from the intensity of his gaze.
“Do not treat me like a child. I have the right to defend myself when lumbering idiots like Khanh decide I am theirs to do with as they please.” She said, making sure to keep her voice low so she would not be heard, though the venom in her tone was clear, this was not a subject she would be swayed from.
It was one of those times where Akhmad knew that verbal communication would really help him make his point. But sometimes, physical lessons settled in another's mind with far more permanency than a casual comment here and there. And it was clear that he had gotten and was holding Somra's full attention right now. She gazed up at him with fire in her eyes.
Keeping his body above hers in a manner that didn't squash her but simply entrapped her between his limbs, like a cage, he allowed her to make her angry threats and her jibes and release her anger at Khanh up into his face, before he moved a hand from the rooftop and moved it to her face.
Carefully, with a firm touch that also harboured no harshness, Akhmad brought his wrapped thumb and forefinger together, one above Somra's upper lip and the other below her lower. Together, they softly pinched her mouth closed, his eyes widening with raised eyebrows in the hopes that she understood his point.
Shut up.
He then turned his body and lifted that same arm, giving her free access to wriggle out from beneath this human cage and stand up once more. Still on all fours, Akhmad nudged his jaw forward, a quick nod that encouraged her to continue on her way and leave. Only as soon as she turned to run to the edge of the rooftop and make her escape into a night privacy, Akhmad lashed out with a hand and grabbed onto her ankle.
With one quick pull, Somra was forced back down onto the tile of the rooftop and Akhmad was positioned above her again in that same cage-like shape. This time, he raised an eyebrow at her in question, seeing what she would do now, given what had already passed between them so far...
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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It was one of those times where Akhmad knew that verbal communication would really help him make his point. But sometimes, physical lessons settled in another's mind with far more permanency than a casual comment here and there. And it was clear that he had gotten and was holding Somra's full attention right now. She gazed up at him with fire in her eyes.
Keeping his body above hers in a manner that didn't squash her but simply entrapped her between his limbs, like a cage, he allowed her to make her angry threats and her jibes and release her anger at Khanh up into his face, before he moved a hand from the rooftop and moved it to her face.
Carefully, with a firm touch that also harboured no harshness, Akhmad brought his wrapped thumb and forefinger together, one above Somra's upper lip and the other below her lower. Together, they softly pinched her mouth closed, his eyes widening with raised eyebrows in the hopes that she understood his point.
Shut up.
He then turned his body and lifted that same arm, giving her free access to wriggle out from beneath this human cage and stand up once more. Still on all fours, Akhmad nudged his jaw forward, a quick nod that encouraged her to continue on her way and leave. Only as soon as she turned to run to the edge of the rooftop and make her escape into a night privacy, Akhmad lashed out with a hand and grabbed onto her ankle.
With one quick pull, Somra was forced back down onto the tile of the rooftop and Akhmad was positioned above her again in that same cage-like shape. This time, he raised an eyebrow at her in question, seeing what she would do now, given what had already passed between them so far...
It was one of those times where Akhmad knew that verbal communication would really help him make his point. But sometimes, physical lessons settled in another's mind with far more permanency than a casual comment here and there. And it was clear that he had gotten and was holding Somra's full attention right now. She gazed up at him with fire in her eyes.
Keeping his body above hers in a manner that didn't squash her but simply entrapped her between his limbs, like a cage, he allowed her to make her angry threats and her jibes and release her anger at Khanh up into his face, before he moved a hand from the rooftop and moved it to her face.
Carefully, with a firm touch that also harboured no harshness, Akhmad brought his wrapped thumb and forefinger together, one above Somra's upper lip and the other below her lower. Together, they softly pinched her mouth closed, his eyes widening with raised eyebrows in the hopes that she understood his point.
Shut up.
He then turned his body and lifted that same arm, giving her free access to wriggle out from beneath this human cage and stand up once more. Still on all fours, Akhmad nudged his jaw forward, a quick nod that encouraged her to continue on her way and leave. Only as soon as she turned to run to the edge of the rooftop and make her escape into a night privacy, Akhmad lashed out with a hand and grabbed onto her ankle.
With one quick pull, Somra was forced back down onto the tile of the rooftop and Akhmad was positioned above her again in that same cage-like shape. This time, he raised an eyebrow at her in question, seeing what she would do now, given what had already passed between them so far...
Somra fell silent as Akhmad forced her to, but the anger burned brighter in her eyes and she was on the edge of disliking him as she did Khanh. What was with the men of this group and their entitled attitudes? She bit her tongue to keep from talking, simply hoping that what ever this was would end and she could just go and be by herself as she wished to. Her anger at the group seemed to grow more and more every day, and even someone she had thought to find a bit of solace in like Akhmad was now turning her further towards distaste for the Sariqas.
Somra was thankful for the chance to get up and go, Akhmad seemed to encourage it, but before she could get more than a step in, he was pulling her harshly back down to the roof. Tears involuntarily stung her eyes at the sting of being thrown upon the harsh rooftop once more. She said nothing this time, though something close to hatred could be seen in her gaze. She had no idea what he wanted from her, perhaps complete silence. She thought that the group wouldn’t be happy until any and all personality was extinguished within her and she just mindlessly did as she was told.
She simply lay there, knowing that she would not be able to overpower him and get out from under him, she was raging internally, but did not allow any words to come out. She wanted to run. Further than she had planned to earlier, to keep going past what had become her usual haunts in the city and to the docks where she would board the first ship leaving that night and she would go where ever it took her, and beyond. Away from the Sariqas and the joy they all seemed to get from breaking the spirit of a young woman.
Yet despite her want to flee, her gaze didn’t leave his, holding her own stubbornly in any way that she could. She would not give him the satisfaction of completely giving up, not that night.
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Somra fell silent as Akhmad forced her to, but the anger burned brighter in her eyes and she was on the edge of disliking him as she did Khanh. What was with the men of this group and their entitled attitudes? She bit her tongue to keep from talking, simply hoping that what ever this was would end and she could just go and be by herself as she wished to. Her anger at the group seemed to grow more and more every day, and even someone she had thought to find a bit of solace in like Akhmad was now turning her further towards distaste for the Sariqas.
Somra was thankful for the chance to get up and go, Akhmad seemed to encourage it, but before she could get more than a step in, he was pulling her harshly back down to the roof. Tears involuntarily stung her eyes at the sting of being thrown upon the harsh rooftop once more. She said nothing this time, though something close to hatred could be seen in her gaze. She had no idea what he wanted from her, perhaps complete silence. She thought that the group wouldn’t be happy until any and all personality was extinguished within her and she just mindlessly did as she was told.
She simply lay there, knowing that she would not be able to overpower him and get out from under him, she was raging internally, but did not allow any words to come out. She wanted to run. Further than she had planned to earlier, to keep going past what had become her usual haunts in the city and to the docks where she would board the first ship leaving that night and she would go where ever it took her, and beyond. Away from the Sariqas and the joy they all seemed to get from breaking the spirit of a young woman.
Yet despite her want to flee, her gaze didn’t leave his, holding her own stubbornly in any way that she could. She would not give him the satisfaction of completely giving up, not that night.
Somra fell silent as Akhmad forced her to, but the anger burned brighter in her eyes and she was on the edge of disliking him as she did Khanh. What was with the men of this group and their entitled attitudes? She bit her tongue to keep from talking, simply hoping that what ever this was would end and she could just go and be by herself as she wished to. Her anger at the group seemed to grow more and more every day, and even someone she had thought to find a bit of solace in like Akhmad was now turning her further towards distaste for the Sariqas.
Somra was thankful for the chance to get up and go, Akhmad seemed to encourage it, but before she could get more than a step in, he was pulling her harshly back down to the roof. Tears involuntarily stung her eyes at the sting of being thrown upon the harsh rooftop once more. She said nothing this time, though something close to hatred could be seen in her gaze. She had no idea what he wanted from her, perhaps complete silence. She thought that the group wouldn’t be happy until any and all personality was extinguished within her and she just mindlessly did as she was told.
She simply lay there, knowing that she would not be able to overpower him and get out from under him, she was raging internally, but did not allow any words to come out. She wanted to run. Further than she had planned to earlier, to keep going past what had become her usual haunts in the city and to the docks where she would board the first ship leaving that night and she would go where ever it took her, and beyond. Away from the Sariqas and the joy they all seemed to get from breaking the spirit of a young woman.
Yet despite her want to flee, her gaze didn’t leave his, holding her own stubbornly in any way that she could. She would not give him the satisfaction of completely giving up, not that night.
The second time that Akhmad pulled Somra down beneath him occurred exactly like the first. He did not touch her in any way that might be considered sexual, nor presume power over her by crowding her space. He simply hovered above her, his legs like that of a cat ready to spring, keeping her locked within the human cage that his limbs presented. The situation was frustrating for the captive, but not dangerous or - he hoped - threatening. Instead He was simply forcing her into a position she did not like and then insisting that she remain quiet.
When she kept her silence this time, Akhmad nodded to her and then lifted a hand from the rooftop by her head so that he could pinch together his first finger and thumb in a universal sign of - 'okay'. Like he approved of her quiet. He then pointed at her, nudged the tip of her nose with the end of his bandaged index finger in an almost affectionate gesture and then gripped his fist together in a tight grasp, so hard that it shook with the force of his strength. The fist hovered before her face as his eyes stayed locked on her features, his meaning and intent trying to psychically bridge the gap of language.
After a moment of angry tremors in his hand, he unlocked his fingers and let them loosen and flutter on the night-time breeze.
New to the group, Somra did not yet know the little gestures and marks that Akhmad made in order to communicate. Instead, he was limited to only what he could make her understand with familiar implications. First, he had placed her into a scenario of irritation, repeating it again and each time telling her to be quiet. Then he had indicated anger, frustration before seeing it disintegrate and float away.
Whether she understood the message or not, Akhmad was telling Somra to calm down, to not be so quick to run her mouth when she was forced into a predicament that nettled her ire. That she needed to learn when to take a deep breath and show some peace and acceptance. He had no desire to see her spirit quashed. Yet he had no desire to see her head taken because she couldn't keep it cool.
His message given - whether it was heard or not - Akhmad backed away and moved back up to standing on one fluid motion that seemed to almost defy gravity. He then took a step back, allowing Somra her full space once more and held out a hand. The end of one of his wrappings had untucked from its folds and hung loose at his wrist, but he wasn't worried. He would secure it in a moment. Instead, he was more intent on offering Somra an aid back to her feet.
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The second time that Akhmad pulled Somra down beneath him occurred exactly like the first. He did not touch her in any way that might be considered sexual, nor presume power over her by crowding her space. He simply hovered above her, his legs like that of a cat ready to spring, keeping her locked within the human cage that his limbs presented. The situation was frustrating for the captive, but not dangerous or - he hoped - threatening. Instead He was simply forcing her into a position she did not like and then insisting that she remain quiet.
When she kept her silence this time, Akhmad nodded to her and then lifted a hand from the rooftop by her head so that he could pinch together his first finger and thumb in a universal sign of - 'okay'. Like he approved of her quiet. He then pointed at her, nudged the tip of her nose with the end of his bandaged index finger in an almost affectionate gesture and then gripped his fist together in a tight grasp, so hard that it shook with the force of his strength. The fist hovered before her face as his eyes stayed locked on her features, his meaning and intent trying to psychically bridge the gap of language.
After a moment of angry tremors in his hand, he unlocked his fingers and let them loosen and flutter on the night-time breeze.
New to the group, Somra did not yet know the little gestures and marks that Akhmad made in order to communicate. Instead, he was limited to only what he could make her understand with familiar implications. First, he had placed her into a scenario of irritation, repeating it again and each time telling her to be quiet. Then he had indicated anger, frustration before seeing it disintegrate and float away.
Whether she understood the message or not, Akhmad was telling Somra to calm down, to not be so quick to run her mouth when she was forced into a predicament that nettled her ire. That she needed to learn when to take a deep breath and show some peace and acceptance. He had no desire to see her spirit quashed. Yet he had no desire to see her head taken because she couldn't keep it cool.
His message given - whether it was heard or not - Akhmad backed away and moved back up to standing on one fluid motion that seemed to almost defy gravity. He then took a step back, allowing Somra her full space once more and held out a hand. The end of one of his wrappings had untucked from its folds and hung loose at his wrist, but he wasn't worried. He would secure it in a moment. Instead, he was more intent on offering Somra an aid back to her feet.
The second time that Akhmad pulled Somra down beneath him occurred exactly like the first. He did not touch her in any way that might be considered sexual, nor presume power over her by crowding her space. He simply hovered above her, his legs like that of a cat ready to spring, keeping her locked within the human cage that his limbs presented. The situation was frustrating for the captive, but not dangerous or - he hoped - threatening. Instead He was simply forcing her into a position she did not like and then insisting that she remain quiet.
When she kept her silence this time, Akhmad nodded to her and then lifted a hand from the rooftop by her head so that he could pinch together his first finger and thumb in a universal sign of - 'okay'. Like he approved of her quiet. He then pointed at her, nudged the tip of her nose with the end of his bandaged index finger in an almost affectionate gesture and then gripped his fist together in a tight grasp, so hard that it shook with the force of his strength. The fist hovered before her face as his eyes stayed locked on her features, his meaning and intent trying to psychically bridge the gap of language.
After a moment of angry tremors in his hand, he unlocked his fingers and let them loosen and flutter on the night-time breeze.
New to the group, Somra did not yet know the little gestures and marks that Akhmad made in order to communicate. Instead, he was limited to only what he could make her understand with familiar implications. First, he had placed her into a scenario of irritation, repeating it again and each time telling her to be quiet. Then he had indicated anger, frustration before seeing it disintegrate and float away.
Whether she understood the message or not, Akhmad was telling Somra to calm down, to not be so quick to run her mouth when she was forced into a predicament that nettled her ire. That she needed to learn when to take a deep breath and show some peace and acceptance. He had no desire to see her spirit quashed. Yet he had no desire to see her head taken because she couldn't keep it cool.
His message given - whether it was heard or not - Akhmad backed away and moved back up to standing on one fluid motion that seemed to almost defy gravity. He then took a step back, allowing Somra her full space once more and held out a hand. The end of one of his wrappings had untucked from its folds and hung loose at his wrist, but he wasn't worried. He would secure it in a moment. Instead, he was more intent on offering Somra an aid back to her feet.
Somra had no idea what Akhmad was doing, at least in the moment she didn’t. Reflecting back on his actions later when she had had a chance to calm down she would realize he was trying to impart a lesson in her. At the moment her rage was blinding her and all she wanted was to get away and leave this entire situation behind. How was it that she was made to be the bad guy in all of this? Khanh was the one stirring shit up and attempting to make moves on her when she had never once given him a signal that would state she was interested. Nor would she.
Somra lay there for a moment, glaring at him, the irritation clear in her expression. She look at his hand before huffing, instead of taking it she flipped herself up on onto her feet in one smooth motion, and with the momentum gained from doing so, she took off across the roof. She jumped across to the next, dress and hair fluttering behind her as she made her way across the rooftops, still intent on taking her leave from the frustrating members of the group she had joined and take a few moments to herself to calm down and process everything.
She would return later, she always did. She never stayed away for too long, afraid she would piss someone off by not being there when they needed her to do some work. She wasn’t intentionally alienating herself in the group, she just had a big personality and was not used to people not being charmed by it. Her entire life and her survival had required her to be the way she was, and now it was becoming a weakness.
She was trying to do better, but they couldn’t expect her to change her entire personality over night.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Somra had no idea what Akhmad was doing, at least in the moment she didn’t. Reflecting back on his actions later when she had had a chance to calm down she would realize he was trying to impart a lesson in her. At the moment her rage was blinding her and all she wanted was to get away and leave this entire situation behind. How was it that she was made to be the bad guy in all of this? Khanh was the one stirring shit up and attempting to make moves on her when she had never once given him a signal that would state she was interested. Nor would she.
Somra lay there for a moment, glaring at him, the irritation clear in her expression. She look at his hand before huffing, instead of taking it she flipped herself up on onto her feet in one smooth motion, and with the momentum gained from doing so, she took off across the roof. She jumped across to the next, dress and hair fluttering behind her as she made her way across the rooftops, still intent on taking her leave from the frustrating members of the group she had joined and take a few moments to herself to calm down and process everything.
She would return later, she always did. She never stayed away for too long, afraid she would piss someone off by not being there when they needed her to do some work. She wasn’t intentionally alienating herself in the group, she just had a big personality and was not used to people not being charmed by it. Her entire life and her survival had required her to be the way she was, and now it was becoming a weakness.
She was trying to do better, but they couldn’t expect her to change her entire personality over night.
Somra had no idea what Akhmad was doing, at least in the moment she didn’t. Reflecting back on his actions later when she had had a chance to calm down she would realize he was trying to impart a lesson in her. At the moment her rage was blinding her and all she wanted was to get away and leave this entire situation behind. How was it that she was made to be the bad guy in all of this? Khanh was the one stirring shit up and attempting to make moves on her when she had never once given him a signal that would state she was interested. Nor would she.
Somra lay there for a moment, glaring at him, the irritation clear in her expression. She look at his hand before huffing, instead of taking it she flipped herself up on onto her feet in one smooth motion, and with the momentum gained from doing so, she took off across the roof. She jumped across to the next, dress and hair fluttering behind her as she made her way across the rooftops, still intent on taking her leave from the frustrating members of the group she had joined and take a few moments to herself to calm down and process everything.
She would return later, she always did. She never stayed away for too long, afraid she would piss someone off by not being there when they needed her to do some work. She wasn’t intentionally alienating herself in the group, she just had a big personality and was not used to people not being charmed by it. Her entire life and her survival had required her to be the way she was, and now it was becoming a weakness.
She was trying to do better, but they couldn’t expect her to change her entire personality over night.