RP:Another Pet, Maybe?

Part of the Vakmatharas' Jar Arc

Summary: Brennia does like her bad boys.

Come Here My Pretty

Hanging Corpse Tavern

This once-timber tavern has been rebuilt in sturdily vitrified blackstone and imbued with powerful protective magics that prevent occult fire and several other potentially harmful spells being cast within its walls. No effort has been spared to make what might otherwise be a bleak interior comfortable. The bar is made of polished stone with an oaken inlay, the space behind filled with a bustle of attractive barmaids, sundry barrels and a dazzling array of coloured bottles that glint in the light cast by a large wrought-iron candelabrum suspended from the ceiling overhead. Here, the one-eyed Steadman stands, ready to take orders for food or drink. Beyond the bar, stout tables are firmly bolted to the floor, though the high-backed chairs are freestanding. The hearth is a true feature, seeming to be cast from black lava into the shape of a colossal, laughing goblin's head, its maw gaping wide and deep, usually containing a merrily crackling fire. A delicious scent of roasting meats drifts in from the kitchens and a winding staircase leads to rooms upstairs. To the south are set cellar doors, usually kept locked unless a special event is taking place. The walls are hung with thick, richly woven tapestries depicting persons and events in the history of Vailkrin and the Vampiric race. There's also a notice-board near the entrance, where one may leave messages. Unobtrusive but ever-present are the security staff, staunch fighters ever ready to toss troublemakers out.

Brennia still had some debts owed to the owner of Hanging Corpse Tavern for the time back when they tolerated her as a free loading drunk. So, there she sat at the oh so familiar spot of the baby grand piano, at first she warms up her vocals for a small moment while getting her placings right on this piano since it's smaller than the one she had built at her castle. Her long onyx shaded wings drape behind her where they drape along the floor at the end sort of like a cape while she is perched on the pianist bench and the rather busty waitress had already brought her favorite bottle of black-fire wine, all smiles and flirts. She softly starts the song in which speaks of the great capacity of love, something she has felt long ago and her bard ability able to tie such a strong emotion to the patrons… Maybe she sang it more for herself, but the idle patrons entranced by the bards magic allowing every note struck by the Avian's nimble fingertips fill all the empty parts of their soul, making them feel whole again. Every lyric rang true and resonated in the air like a lullaby and for once the future didn't seem so bleak, maybe? It sweeps those listening up in the moment through all of the crescendos, decrescendos and all the sweet high notes, the warm low notes hazing the darker parts of their mind while they may mistake these feelings for the dark skinned Avain if they don't share a love at this juncture. She offers the listening patrons a soft let down at the end of her song as if a feather drifting to the floor and once it's finished she takes her dark wine and throws back an impressive amount with little grace, uncaring of the rousing applause; mostly out of boredom, but this reaction may be mistaken as arrogance.

Trajek was an oddity among all those who were odd in the city of the undead. He was an older man with more wrinkles on his face than lines. He wore chainmail and a sword on his hip; perhaps they were reminders of a time when he was in his prime and not when he had trouble commanding the Tavern door to open. Amongst avians, undead, vampires, and all manner of darker kinds, he was a human, he was old, he was frail, and he was, by all outward appearances, prey. No sooner pass the door and in the room proper, he was brought to an immediate stop, his attention and gaze turned to the bard, the piano, and her song. It was not the stench of undead that brought tears to his eyes, it was her song. he held his breath when there were crescendos, as though in fear that any hissing air from around the steel gorget fastened to his neck would blow the song away. And the story! It moved him like no other, and it brought him to clap the loudest and the longest of all the patrons in the room. "Another!" The old voice cried out from the bar, "And I will buy you a bottle of whatever you like!"

Brennia raised her natural 6'2" self from her love, the piano, and choked the neck of the black-fire wine bottle a busty waitress brought her. Brennia smirked playfully to the waitress while placing some coin between her bosom before sending her off with a light tap on her bum, which causes the waitress to titter away like a star-struck school girl. Brennia slides all of her long silky black hair to one side revealing scars on her neck and shoulders, vampire, lycan, even feline love bites which cause a whispering gossip to travel from patron to patron. Her continued smirk shows she couldn't care less of what they thought of her when she slipped her strappy blue stilettos back on making her appear taller and she makes her way to the bar to order a case more of her favorite wine, "I am almost out," Her possible proximity to Trajek might offer his favorite scent emitting from the Avian and her deep ocean blue gaze finally notices the stranger, "Hey there." That silky alto tone nearly as hypnotic as her onyx shade of massive wings on her back as they reflect hues of deep blues and forest greens.

Trajek nearly jumped from the bar when she exposed her neck and the significance each love bite shown. If it had not been for her leaving the piano and walking to the bar, he most certainly would have walked up to her...after a few drinks of hard courage. But she did come to the bar, and her nearness brought his nose to rise. Heady and exotic, he breathed heavily and deeply the narcotic if not wholly intoxicating scent she exuded. It had the old man feeling he was half his age and twice as favored by the Gods. "Allow me," He said, though the words were wispy and soft; they seemed to leak from around the edges of the steel plate secured tightly to his throat. A stack of gold coins were pilfered from a leather pouch at his waist. "War earnings." He gave them up as quickly as he found them, sliding the pile to the bar tender. "Whatever she wants in abundance."

Brennia chuckles softly as her hand started to go to stop him from picking up her tab as she had all the money she needed, but why, let him pay. In that momen't of second guessing herself he may have noticed how the intricate tattoo pattern (which seemingly covers all over her dewy caramel skin) swirl, or twitch just slightly. She offers, "You don't have to kind stranger…" She was able to sort of throw her voice, the bard she was, and it sounded only as a soft musing directly to his ears. "This is for my castle and my pets…" The way her tongue twisted the word 'pets' turned it into something perverse and this is to hint that she has plenty of money to spare. Her blue eyes filter over him as if inspecting a fine piece of art, "What happened here?" A pointed black fingernail points at the steel plate at his throat.

Trajek leveled a glare at the bar tender when the winged goddess, or so she seemed to him, politely declined his offer. He pushed the stack of coin back across the bar with the finality of one who was attempting to impress. "It would make me happy to spend my earnings on someone as lovely as you than myself." His brow did furrow when she mentioned castles and pets. He had stormed castles; he had slain and set free slaves alike. "Royalty, are you? I could tell. Only those with the blood of the gods could be as beautiful as you." The shift of conversation from platitudes and flirts to the steel plate at his throat darkened his demeanor. The callouses at the tips of his fingers scratched the steel as though they scratched a healing wound. "I decided to block a strike with my neck instead of my shield in a battle. I would not recommend it." He grinned at his joke.

Brennia offered a bright smile showing off perfect pearly whites and dimples poke into her cheeks, "Well I am a lady and I love pretty shiny accessories." Jewlery, she was hinting at jewelry. She scoffs at his guess of her being royalty, "Royalty?!… I used to be… But they are all murdered now." A shrug comes from her devil-may-care attitude causing one of those large black quills to drift to the floor. She didn't blush and titter at such a compliment, she knows she is a stunning creature, but she also doesn't seem to care that she is. A head tilts at his explanation to which she offers a playful pout as she boldly caressed the back of her fingers down the side of the strangers cheek, "Aw poor thing." Once her hand gently retracts he may notice the fading imprint of warmth her touch leaves behind, it's almost like everything about this woman was meant to seduce, but why… Is it wise to get caught up in her snare?

Trajek laughed when she hinted at her obvious love for jewelry. "One as fine as you should be sparkling constantly," he replied quickly, though the mood did seem to dim when she scoffed and exclaimed. It was a guess as good as any. One that was so cavalier about her suitors and her demeanor would most likely love being called a queen as a compliment. He did not balk at the talk of murder, but he seemed to gain some of his former youthful glow at such a dark tale. "You have the blood of royalty in your veins. You will always be a que..." her finger to his cheek stopped his flattery cold---as cold as his flesh would feel to her. His cheek did warm in hue, though it was quick to return to its former coolness. "You are a creature I would kill for," and though he did not finish his proclamation, it was implied by the deepness of his gaze...-and one I would die for.-

Brennia winks at the stranger, "The correct term would have been Countess of Island Vere… But you may call me Brennia." She held out her hand for him to either kiss or shake, his call and once he did a myriad of alcoholic beverages in a small crate were clunked on the top of the counter before them, "My order is ready…. Since you didn't get the satisfaction of paying for it, would you like to carry this to my castle for me?" She looked him up and down again as if gears turning in her head, "Tenacity… I like." She was considering of asking him to be one of her pets by now even though she usually sticks to beings with more bite; vampires, lycans, dragons, nagas… But this one appeared to have a little oomph to which she can't explain. "And possibly you may get a key to my chambers." She flashes that brilliant dimple accessorized smile once more which has melted hearts before.

Trajek not only took her hand, he dropped from his stool down to a knee. Knightly even if he was no knight, he all but pledged his loyalty to the being as he pressed his cold lips to the back of her hand. "My equals call me Jerak. My superiors, soldier. My Queen? You may call me whatever you want." He didn't need the incentive of her chambers to quickly take up the crate of alcoholics, but it most certainly didn't hurt. Had he a heart to melt, there is no doubt her smile would have done so. "Lead the way," He fall in behind her to leer at her backside more than to follow.