Jastima Ves'Tacha Nadja

Wed 07:15AM EST
A peal of bells . . .
A whirl of jasmine . . .
A dervish of trouble waiting to happen. . .

The information about Harlequin will make anyone pause. It could make anyone wary. It did both and more for her. However, even being on alert did not stop her prayers. Sarrath at sunset. . . so her reconnaissance of the Boardwalk done, a quick sweep through Cymaa as Gemile wanted and she came home to the Vardo. Came home to greet burning death of day with fervent penance. No, evem Harlequin wouldn't let her stop with that. . . and so, on her knees to the East, she prayed, Romani thick and sweetly flowing like wine.

Konrad Vrdoljiak

Wed 07:21AM EST
You'd think he'd skulk more. Be more careful. He'd seen the Strider camp all up in arms, and being a Lord, he likely assumed his name had been blacklisted along with the rest.

But he doesn't. Skulk, that is. The assumptions were his to make and his to keep. Yet his posture is the same as ever, spine straight, head held high, limbs loose and relaxed: a swordsman's stance, not fifty feet from her at the boundary of their territories.

Politely enough, he waits for her to finish before clearing his throat softly.

Jastima Ves'Tacha Nadja

Wed 07:28AM EST
She rises, and at his sound, turns, and he can already see the difference. Poised and wary. . and Hazel eyes not atwinkle at all, but darkly watching. . .

"Konrad of Thunder's Children. . why am I not surprised?"

She must be strong orelse she will fall, to the Balance. . . no need of spiritual protectors. .

Her family, who could do so much, did so little at times. Had he been involved in Harlequin's disappearance as well? She just couldn't know. Alexis' face not one known to many Garou. . . and their only real clue, useless as it was.

Konrad Vrdoljiak

Wed 07:32AM EST
The wariness in her eyes does not escape him. He exhales, breath fogging white in the fading sunlight, and the line of his shoulders seem almost to sag for a moment. He pushes a hand back through his hand, distractedly, and looks over her shoulder at the camper. "Are your Garou home? I need a word with them."

And you can bet he didn't approach until he was certain they were not home.

Jastima Ves'Tacha Nadja

Wed 07:40AM EST
Were they? Could he not tell? Truck is gone, fire low, scent old, but then. . he's in his human form. Perhaps he wasn't so skilled there. Eyeing him, she does not approach either. There is safety in distance. There is safety in the camps. . right? But listening to him, she still cannot reconcile that image of what happened with harlequin with what she's seen of him. . or at least his words don't make her outright wary. She has the sake of distance, of the Vardo nearby. . .

"They are otherwise occupied. I will give them a message when they are free."

Thunder's kin may well toe the line with their garou, but Rom could be startingly frank and straight forward at times. Hers a pride and security she maybe should not have. . stubborn, unbroken pride, and security in her home and family.

Konrad Vrdoljiak

Wed 07:48AM EST
There's a distraction in him, like there was something else on his mind - a pressing burden. Tawny eyes finally pull away from the camper, back to her. He draws a breath, drops his hand (because he will not seem weak before a kin), and looks her in the eye.

"Tell them this for me." The words sound recited, strained, like they'd been memorized to ease the humiliation. "A female of my tribe has acted without honor and struck against one that Simon tells me is close to you. She has an irrational hatred of your kind, the Rom. Her crime stains all our names. We hunt her, and we will bring her to justice - but - she is skillful and elusive. We want to be certain that your people are aware of this danger...lest she strike against them, as well. The last we saw of her, she was coming this way.

"Nadja..." Oh, that was not scripted. Raw emotion is never scripted, and the best lies always hold some element of the truth. "It's not safe for you to be alone."

Jastima Ves'Tacha Nadja

Wed 07:54AM EST
He will not seem weak. She rarely is, these days. Only weakness that of being kin s opposed to wolf and even that, debatable. The spirit of the wolf slumbering within her blood, and the minute differences of her as opposed to gaje kin hidden until danger woke it to life. . . until even kin could roil in wolfen power. But thats not now, not yet. . thats for a woman she had seen adn elft Harlequin with. . . perhaps as good as condemned her kin right there. She listens though, to his oh so credible words (tricky.tongue.of.a.lord.no.doubt. but.hard.to.say) and nods, with a sigh.

"The woman from the Boardwalk. . . then we pursue the right adversary. I will tell them, Konrad. . . and thank you for your concern."

Still had not come closer, only watched. Was she safe even amongst others? The Rage of Garou made any kin suspect that safety.

Konrad Vrdoljiak

Wed 08:02AM EST
His chin inclines a notch; he studies her thoughtfully, considering. Finally, some faint measure of amusement breaks his tension and he shakes his head. "Nadja of the Rom, so damnably brave. You shouldn't be left alone for more reasons than one - " humor fading, "but this time, that one is a very good one. You're not safe here. I'm sending my mate from this place to stay with my family in upstate New York. I think your sister would skin me if I didn't offer the safe refuge to you, knowing who might come for you."

Jastima Ves'Tacha Nadja

Wed 08:07AM EST
"A generous offer, Konrad, but my family shelters me and I can look after myself."

Rom let their weak fall by the wayside, to preseve their Balance. . . and yet Harlequin's disappearance made a vaccuum in that very Balance. . . what untipped scale would result if something happened to her? Still holding to her distance, but speaking politely, almost as always had with him. A subtle shift of weight, easing her stance some, releasing song into the still, silent twilight forest.

Konrad Vrdoljiak

Wed 08:18AM EST
Perhaps it's the song of her (black) bells. Perhaps it's the subtle shift of position, the grace that betrays her dancer's passionate soul, even if she forces it into some semblance of penitence and propriety. Whatever it is, there's a silence from the Shadow Lord, punctuated only by the rhythm of breath.

Behind him, colors of the dusk streak and run and fade. Yellows bleed to orange, orange to red, red to violet and violet to black. Stars appear, and the gibbous moon rides above.

"Nadja," and it's only her name, this time, for a very long time. He reaches out as though he might touch her but - at the last minute - touches one of her black bells, instead.

"Black doesn't suit you," low, now, and he doesn't cross the border. "It doesn't suit you at all."

Too much fire.
Too much danger.

Whirling dervish didn't begin to describe her. There's the slightest of tugs on the bell he holds, wrapped about her waist: invitation to cross into his land, and more.

Jastima Ves'Tacha Nadja

Wed 08:26AM EST
A tug, and she stands firm, though eyeing him like a new creature. He'd said he had a mate earlier. He'd never made such an advance. And yet. . . there is within him that can draw even her. . . she balks, now. .but for how long?

"It suits me perfectly."

Because the things he made her think would guarantee black and more.

Konrad Vrdoljiak

Wed 08:34AM EST
The Ahroun laughs under his breath, and his hand moves, curving through the line of the belt until his knuckles rested firm against her taut abdomen.

His eyes flicker up to hers: tawny, dark in the fading twilight, a deep and resonant hue. He meets her stare, returns it, and looks at her like she was beyond new. He has a mate. A business relationship with benefits, and that's all the damn well needs. But the things he's thinking? Nearly frighten him.

(if this one had come first...)

The problem with a good lie was, sometimes you could start believing them, if only for a moment. And it's firmly and irresistibly, now, that he pulls her forward - yanks - jerks: a single hard tug that damn near collides her into him.

"Liar."

Jastima Ves'Tacha Nadja

Wed 08:40AM EST
But any person lies. Its a day to day thing. They lie with their mouths, eyes, face, body. . . why she should be different is absurd. He laughs, and it curls inside her. He presses those knockles against her abdomen, and she shivers. . . and she meets his eyes, and is lost.

His tug unexpected, with the slow, teasing way he had been going, and she almost stumbles, innate grace savig her such ignonimy. Instead coming to within inches of him, to wihtin his territory. . .

"Perhaps."

Have you ever danced with the devil by the pale moonlight?

Konrad Vrdoljiak

Wed 08:56AM EST
"Always."

Himself, or her? - didn't matter now. She almost stumbles, doesn't, rights herself, steady as a gyroscope, fluid as water. Her grace is innate; her solemnity, a facade. His savageness is innate; his civility, a very thin facade. Inches left, and they don't last long: devoured by his step forward, muscular frame aligning to hers.

He kisses her.
No: he ravages her (hunt like an animal. kill like an animal. fuck like an animal.). And he'd bet his family fortune on her giving as good as she gets.

(let's get outta here.)

Doesn't need to be said. He lets her belt go, grabs her by the hand, and tugs her away from the border, deeper in his wooded territory, his strides eating up ground. Shadow Lord turf, now, and for better or for worse, tonight the lie goes like this: she's shadow lord property, herself.

Half a hundred yards from his cabin, though, he falls behind half a step as though he'd stumbled on some root (how ignominous, indeed) - and strikes her at the back of her head where cranium joins spinal column: swiftly, almost casually. Lights out.

She crumples. He catches her, Glabro-shaped now and dwarfing her utterly, lifting her effortlessly. His nostrils flare to drink.her.scent...and then he looks around for his Beta, because he knows the damn Ragabash is watching.

"It's a fucking pity," he growls, "that we don't have more time. Where's my kinfolk?"

Storm Crow

Wed 09:01AM EST
ANd like water rippeling down from stormclouds above the beta shimmers into existance infront of the man. Startelingly close Crouched. Dressed totally in black. BDUs with pockets full of the tools of the trade. He looks up and smiles. His head tilted. He sniffs once and arks a brow "You didn't damage her overly much did you? Such would be a waste."
Fluidly he flows into a standing position. "Well she and I had been getting along marvelously but I smelled your return and sent her to warm the rental. It's still under my name so if they are tracking it though the computer resords it'll be there. I made sure to use a credit card with my actual name on it. Just in case, on that one. The route I've set was predetermined on my trip back from my previous journey. She won't know the end location untill she gets there. I left directions at a dozen markjers along the way that only leads to the mext marker. Therefore she cannot be a liability. Her instructions give times and numbers to call to confirm safty remains."

Jastima Ves'Tacha Nadja

Wed 09:03AM EST
Passion. Lust. And that tiny voice that cries at her, knowing what she did was wrong and still could not help herself. Irony of ironys, her life was the Comedy of Errors. . . because to err in ignornace is still.to.err.

He's right. She gives as good as she gets, water amde her fluidly graceful and manipulative. . Zapaderin and her trainign made her passionate. . . Sarrath blood made her animalistic at times. Lucky Konrad. . .

But following him her thoughts are not given purchase. . when the blow comes (so.quickly) and blackness bleeds over forested sight. . .

Fool girl. You've tipped the scales further. . .

Konrad Vrdoljiak

Wed 09:10AM EST
Some low sound in his throat, a long guttural rolling growl that might, might just be a laugh. "I'm sure they'll get along great on the roadtrip...she has instructions on what to tell Nadja when she awakens. As long as the girl believes it, she won't even have to ride in the trunk."

The Ahroun's tongue licks across his lips, flatter, thinner than the human organ. He scents the air and then shifts the inert warm body in his arms. "Move quickly...but carefully. Ra'gon is a Theurge. Their eyes are everywhere."

"I will see you shortly, Bobtail."

And, turning, the Glabro strides slopeshouldered through the dark woods. One last diversion...

A note left for the Rom.

A note, penned by Konrad, incriminating Alexis - indicating that Nadja was under the protection of the House of Vrdoljiak. A telephone number is left at the bottom: Konrad's cellular. Whether they believed it or not was up to them. Konrad was done here.

Storm Crow

Wed 09:18AM EST
She's been instructed that incase of capture to tell her captors that if she does NOT call and confirm her safty that we will know, thus calling at the wrong time will tip us, or that if she is not captured the proper procedure will be stuck to. Either way we'll have roughly 3 hours warning minimum."

He moves over and looks at Nadja. His hands clasped behind his back and a nutral look on his face. Right leg strong as ever. THe faked injury gone among just the two of them.

"Now that you're close you understand the perils of my infiltration rhya?"
A smile plays across his classicly plain features. He could be 1 of 1000 people you see every day. Not overly handsom not ugly he blends in so well with the crowd that it's almost uncanny. It's almost like somone went out of their way to make a generalized sterotype male. His only distinguishing feature is that he's slightly above adverage height.
Just standign there. Bare feet away from Konrad the Knife finds it hard to focous on him. To commit his features to memory. They simply defy the minds ability to track in that fashion.