RP:Don't Be Fearful of One's Hisstory
Part of the Lunar Tides and Silver Linings Arc
Synopsis: Lanara and Tiber travel to Venturil, so Lanara can meet up with the true, twisted Alastor Ambers. Meanwhile, Tiber is disguised as a stableboy for protection, Lanara has to pass Alastor's tests. One test, however, scars the witch, for a fear of snakes will have to be conquered for the final test.
Venturil Stables
Tiber still felt tied around the idea of the witch walking the line of… death. When the couple had gotten ready the night prior to travel to the land that was in the process of restoration, the man stared at his woman packing her bag. Why was she wasting her last breaths helping him get rid of a horrible man? Had she not wanted to spend her time in the sun? Enjoying her last moments in peace? Perhaps the choice had been the witch’s selflessness. The wanting to do good deeds before she crossed over. The thought stabs the man on multiple occasions, and although the man had been present before Lanara--still loving--he had been only a statue of a man when she was not near him. A shell. Only when she was around would he snap back into her reality to bury himself with her at night. Feign smiles. Be present. Live with her until the day she is gone. Were they wasting their time? Then again, time was fading rapidly, and the thought catches up to him when he is standing near the stables with the woman he loved. He holds her hand tightly as he stares at the emptiness of the stables--dressed in light cotton pants and a simple tunic. The lycan gives the illusion of a stable boy. The amulet that had been enchanted by witches had been tucked beneath a layer of clothing around his neck while the chain lingered visibly. As the two stand there, amber eyes shift down the deep brown hair until they reach her face. “This is it,” he begins. Eyes trace to the sun that had begun to cast rays of orange and pink, for the evening was near, and the fear would begin to set in to meet the man behind the toil. “Alastor will be here anytime. I’ll… be near the stables. Near some of the other animals, but at a distance, so he feels like I’m not a threat if he sees me. And I have… this,” the lycan points to the amulet to disguise the man’s true identity.
Lanara had been rather quiet on their journey from Cenril to Venturil, opting to let her mind run wild in silence, rather than engage in polite conversation with Tiber. The man seemed to be on edge ever since she confessed that she had been keeping her pending death a secret, and although they both vowed to find a way to save her life and to enjoy each day as it comes, she still feels an invisible wedge in their relationship. She’s going to die, plain and simple, and her only choice of survival is to be turned into a vampire, and that is worse than death in her eyes. But, every rose has it’s thorn, right? Tiberius would learn to love again, and she would be floating on the Otherside, yearning to be reunited with her love. Truth be told, she’d rather spend the last week of her life in his arms, just cuddling until that final moment. Tears prick her eyes as her hand is squeezed and she knows they have to part now, as they had work to do. “It will be perfect this time, Babe. No babies making you wear daisy crowns and no psychotic man trying to marry me today…” Her smile is forced as the handsome ‘stableboy’ heads over to the barn, and with a heavy heart she watches his magnificent frame fade from view, the ache in her chest returning as she longs to constantly be at his side. At least she can fulfill her bucket list and keep Belgemine’s promise, and she is helping Tiber to give Alastor his just desserts and to free those that he is holding captive in his laboratory. The interview is to take place in about thirty minutes, so the witch busies herself by finding the wildest stallions in the spacious pasture, as she’s certain she will have to prove her worth to Alastor. The owner of the ranch, Frethwi, more than welcomes the help of the witch as he’s up in years and his days of taming horses are surely over. The elderly male hobbles back indoors after handing Lanara a riding crop, a canteen of water, and some sugar cubes to coax the horses closer. Clad in tight leggings, knee-high boots, and a long-sleeved shirt, Lana is appropriately dressed for a day of riding. Having selected a few horses for the demonstration, she busies by pulling her long hair into a braid, but once she sees a male turn the corner she stands at attention and fixes a smile on her face.
Tiber (1 of 2) :: Tiber slides a thumb across her hand that he holds before giving her a faint smile. A hint of regret of the last time they fumbled with the situation. Again, the thought of her not being open until the last few days had struck a nerve, but he was determined to figure out anything--if he could. “I don’t think I can handle anymore babies,” and that was to the last mix-up, and the babysitting of Fleur. Sven forbid… keep the babies at least. Then, Tiberius Lowell fades from her vision to go help stack bales of hay. Hard labor would help Tiberius sweat out distress, anyway. So there, the Catalian relies as he tosses up the stacks, all the while catching glimpses of the girl basking in the evening light with the horses. His head then shifts back to focus on the labor, for new steps were beginning to approach the ranch.
Tiber (2 of 2) :: From the distance, came a shadow that would become clearer to the animal empath. A tall man, one with silver flecks in black hair. Not fully salt and pepper, but a man that had appeared middle-aged, yet… there had been a charm about him. The man wears glasses, and holds himself straight as he approaches. He approaches with an ivory shirt that only partially buttons around the chest, while the rest is tucked into higher riding pants with sleek riding boots, as well. Afterall, the man was meeting at a farm, and Alastor, although not an empath, had been well with animals, as well--clearly. Only in the wrong ways. His hair is stylishly brushed in wavy ways, and his face is clean cut as he approaches the woman before him. First, he stares at the girl before him. He takes her in before glancing at the horse. The man is quiet for a moment before glances around the stable to see no one, but the woman before him, and the stableboy. “I’m taking zat I’m talking to ze Lanara?” He has an accent that is thicker than his brother’s who died back in Kelvar. His eyes are observant, and his facial features were stoic and intimidating. As if the scientist was watching the elf’s every move.
Lanara assesses Alastor closely from beneath her impossibly long lashes, viewing the comparisions between the male and Leopold, the man she had killed in her homeland. The accent is far more apparent in Alastor, and she extends a dainty hand as she nods, “Yes! I am Lanara, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Ambers.” A few breaths pass as the man scrutinizes everything from the strands of chestnut atop her head, to the riding boots that adorn her tiny feet. She’s petite and obviously not a threat, which is why his gaze trails away from the witch to take in the lay of the land, and anyone who may be watching. A man of his importance in the underground facility has every right to be suspicious, especially because it was Skitch that had arranged this interview! Lana maintains an unassuming demeanor and keeps a pleasant smile on her face, as she’s trying to gauge what sort of man they are dealing with, as it matters greatly. Usually, she played the role of a naive flirt, and it worked like a charm on ninety percent of men, as well as the late Leopold. He hungered for her attention and she had him wrapped around her finger in less than an hour. However, Alastor is of a different caliber, and she doesn’t want to screw this up, so she tries to treat this like an actual interview rather than as a set-up. “Would you like to conduct the oral part of the interview, first? Or… Were you preparing to go for a ride together?” She motions to his riding boots, before she spares a glance to Tiber, “I could have the stableboy saddle up some horses.” She hopes he declines, because if she were to ride off into the distance with the enemy, it would be difficult for Tiber to maintain a close watch. “I’m also happy to begin with showing you my abilities with difficult animals…. Whichever you prefer, Mister Ambers. I’m merely honored to be in your presence for an interview.”
Tiber :: Alastor Ambers lingers eyes on Lanara’s stature, but not in any scandalous, flirty way. Alastor had been one of the tougher ones to crack. The serious. The skeptical. As Lanara introduces herself, and extends her small hand, the man does not even extend his own, for the sake of… cautiousness. If Skitch had been the one to send the girl, Alastor would wait for any moment right now for something to go wrong. Lanara, however, already did not seem like the type of woman Skitch would send to kill him off, so something else seemed odd. Lanara would have to pass a few tests. “Suggestive. Eager,” he observes with the flat line on his lips. “Excuse me, Lady Lanara, but I won’t be attending a ride with you. Not yet,” he states matter-of-factly. “Leave ze stableboy alone. Let him attend to what he needs to. The man that owns this ranch is old, anyway,” well, at least Alastor cared for the elderly. Then again, that did not mean that Alastor did not want to attempt his experiments on the elderly at some point. “We’ll stay right here, I’d prefer a witness,” well, that seemed odd to say. “I zink a few questions need to be asked. Ze hell you go through Skitch to meet me for? What game are you playing? Both of us know zat Skitch is slime, yes?” Pause, he glances over her expression again as he was checking for any hesitance. “And… you know what I do, yes, Miss Lanara? Who told you…?” What a tough cookie. The scientist was not messing around.
Lanara quirks a brow when Alastor claims he prefers ‘witnesses’ and she’s unsure if that means to ensure her safety or to protect his own hide. Both of them had enemies that could be lurking in any dark corner, and her mind strays to the raid on her apartment, the stolen diary, and the single page that had been tucked beneath Tiber’s door. She hadn’t told the lycan about that yet, either, but seeing as he already has a bunch on his mind she doesn’t want to overwhelm him. It was likely some teenager toying with her, or trying to bribe her with the secrets contained in the diary in exchange for some coin. “Alright, as you wish.” At least Frethwi isn’t being thrown to the wolves, at least not on this day! Resting her spine against one of the spokes of the fence, the witch locks eyes with the scientist as he fires off questions, and she maintains her composure with each one that is tossed her way. He works in a field where discretion is mandatory, and so she shrugs her shoulders, “Leopold Ambers is the one that spoke to me about your line of work… You see, I hail from Kelvar, and he had come to research the plague that had overtaken most of the elves in my homeland.” Tiber and Lanara hadn’t discussed this tactic, but she knows that it’s their best bet, and so she deviates from the course a little bit. “Leo fancied me and told me all about the experiments, and he also hinted at your extreme wealth, and he told me that if I ever needed a job that I should try to find you.” A single hand is gestured to the side, “As you know, Venturil is a very large land, and so I found Skitch, the lowest of the low who knows everyone and everything that happens underground. He arranged this interview, as I’m in need of coin, and I believe that you are in need of my line of work. I could be your greatest asset. Imagine one of your experiments misbehaving or managing to break free? -I- could control them with a snap of my fingers, the blink of an eye, or merely through an invisible link that I share with animals.” Lanara doesn’t want to come off too cocky, so she softens her words and grins, “Honestly… I am a tad bitter, too, and I suppose that is a driving factor, as well. I was previously engaged to a male, it didn’t work out, and I was ostracized from the community in Denubyrg. I later discovered that Eirik was a lycan, as well as a witch killer, and for that alone, I hope to seek retribution. I will help you to make sure that those heartless beasts stay in line, and perhaps even bring in some more for you to test upon.” Her words ring true, and even though the engagement to the lycan only lasted a few weeks, nearly all of Venturil and Schezerade knew of the break up. Would Alastor buy this story?
Tiber (1 of 2) :: Meanwhile, back by the bales, Tiber is eavesdropping on every word on the interaction between the scientist and the empath. The ‘witnesses’ comment throws Tiber for a whirl, and put the lycan straight on alert. He does not stop tossing hay. Not until Lanara begins to answer the questions that Alastor throws her direction. Tiberius moves to a nearby bucket of water to splash on his face to cool down his body externally, and… internally because right about now the lycan is fuming. Not only because of the reminder of Leopold, but also because of a previous fiance before Elioyhazer, and one that was a lycan. Did she really despise Eirik for what he actually was? Was being a lycan too hard to handle sometimes for her? Did she think that Tiberius was shallow? It had been a curse that the Catalian had a hard time holding. Perhaps he was the exception, for he did not favor his own beastly behavior when it came out. Hands wash over his sharp features before he flings his hands to shake away the beads of water before moving on to the next ‘stableboy’ task.
Tiber (2 of 2) :: Alastor does not blink. Only a few times would Lanara notice a tick in Alastor’s neck. One that moved an inch to the side before restoring back to normal placement. An instant fidget he held over the line of work he had begun. A focus. This dark-haired man was focused on the woman and her words that she held. Her response. Leopold. She knew Leopold? “You and… my brother?” This causes Alastor to pause as he scrutinizes her. There was a pull to know how his brother was fairing in Kelvar, for it was clear he had not known about the plague. The wreckage of the land the witch hailed from. The man squints while he looks over the elf. Leo had trusted Lanara with their experiments? Well, they had been Kelvarian. A far place to travel. Lanara’s answers travel easy through the man’s ears and a grin is placed on the scientist’s features. One that would send minor chills down someone’s back. It was uneasy--wicked. “Now, we don’t wish to kill lycans, nor hurt them. Leo must have not given you every detail.” Dark eyes travel over her shoulder where she witnesses the stableboy. The man’s voice lowers slightly. “Heartless yes. zer fault? No. Zat’s where you and I come in--if you do prove worzy enough,” beat. Eyes slide back over to the girl’s collected features. “Our job, Lanara, is not to hurt lycans, but to help find a cure, but we cannot help ze temperaments, which is why we have animal control. Once we find a cure, we end ze lycan line for good. Our branch is small right now, but once we find ze cure, ze goal is to grow.” Meaning, create future armies of people who cure lycans for their own good. “But… zing is Lanara, you need to show me what you can do with an animal before we discuss more.”
Lanara (Post 1 of 2) Lanara hopes that Tiber either isn’t listening closely, or that if he is eavesdropping that he isn’t taking her words to heart. Did he even know that she had -two- failed engagements, not only the one that she barely spoke about? Would he think less of her, as she had been discarded by two men? Even worse, Alastor is giving her this creepy grin and he peers back at her lycan and she’s on high alert. If somehow their cover were blown, she would have to kill this man with her bare hands. Poor Frethwi would be slaughtered, too! The witch would go to hell and back before she let this egomaniacal scientist put his hands on Tiber. Only the horses would remain unscathed. As she’s thinking these dark thoughts, she gives a curt nod, “I wouldn’t hire someone merely becomes they know someone, either. Or based on appearance. I assume you, Mister Ambers, you will not be disappointed.” Turning her back to the male, she studies the horses roaming on the far end of the property, before her gaze narrows on one in particular. It’s a black stallion, rippling with muscle, and high on testosterone. The beast is bucking in place, without anything on his back, and she can only imagine how he would react with a rider atop. To the left of the stallion is a white mare, moody beyond belief, with her tail twitching to and fro. A few other wild horses loiter in the pasture, but the witch is betting that one of them will be Alastor’s choice. “Take your pick of horse, so you know that this isn’t fixed. And you are welcome to check with Frethwi, he claims this herd was claimed a few days ago and that none have been saddled or worked with, in any capacity.” She pauses, glancing momentarily at Tiber, hoping he will see the softness in her stare, before she lowers her voice in reply to Alistair, “A world without lycans is a wonderful idea, and I would find pride in such a line of work.”
Lanara (Post 2 of 2) As predicted, the male had chosen the black stallion, and she bites the inside of her cheek as she feigns confidence. Her empathic abilities had never failed her, but she had never been on the brink of death, either. She hadn’t been able to cast a spell in months, and she hadn’t had the time to practice on any animals at the sanctuary. Hopping the fence, Lanara gracefully lands on the other side and dusts off her palms, making direct eye contact with the onyx beast. The stallion neighs, obviously agitated that Frethwi was late with his lunch and that this woman had randomly stepped into his turf and was strutting around and daring to look into his eyes. Teeth are bared, as he plans to kick and bite should she come any closer, which to his dismay, she threatens. Lana hums softly and reaches into her pocket for a fistful of sugar cubes, casting a wary glance at the horses nearby, before she advances on her target. The black beast rears up on his hind legs, his glossy frame glistening with sweat, as the wind wildly brushes his mane. “Aren’t you stunning?” Lana doesn’t show an ounce of fear as she stands a few feet from the horse, although she spies that the whites of his eyes are turning a fierce hue of crimson, and his fetlocks are kicking angrily in the air. “Oh stop it.” This had gone on for a moment, before she forces that empathic aura on the hellish beast, and after a few seconds he lowers his hooves to the grass and studies the witch. She had earned his trust in a matter of moments, and she hopes that Alastor is watching as the stallion gently nibbles on the treats in her hand, before nudging her shoulder with his muzzle. The witch runs her hand along the neck of the horse and whispers something in his ear, before he lowers his upper half and allows her to climb aboard his back, without protest. The riding crop is tossed to the earth, she wouldn’t need that, as she proudly encourages the horse into a canter, and right after a gallop. The rider and steed slow after a lap around the pasture, and they stop at the fence that separates them from Alastor. “Well?” Lana grins, “You can pet him if you like, he’s alright under my control.”
Tiber (1 of 3) :: Tiber finds the softness in Lanara’s gaze, as she glances his way. The man had been tossing some hay into the fencing where some of the horses rely. The soft edges around the witch give him reassurance that she is playing the game, and playing it well. He would make sure to conclude after, of course, and ask about Eirik because… who was he?! As the two pick their poison of horse, the Catalian’s eyes saunter to the bucking black stallion. In Tiber’s mind there is a big, ‘no, no, no’, but then he remembers the vicious dog Skitch held. The one that Meri and him had to confront. Then, Tiber’s trust falls to Lanara, and for the sake of suspiciousness of lingering too long, Tiberius exits the stable. He does not leave directly, but he hides around the corner listening for anymore confrontation.
Tiber (2 of 3) :: Once Alastor locks eyes on the black stallion, he grins at the idea of a burly, untamed horse. Truth was, lycans especially when first transformed had an aggression like no other. Untameable except for iron cages and chains. Dosage of concoction to knock them out. A tranquilizer. Ambers points before leaning against the side of the fencing in order to watch Lanara practice her work. With the stableboy ‘gone’, shoulders relax as he only watches Lanara now. The calm atmosphere of the girl is impressive, as she was not scared away from such aggression the beast held, and once the black horse lowered and bent to the witch’s will, brows rose in amusement. Alastor Ambers almost found his new-found employee, only there was something else. Horses could kill, but what else could with a bite? Lips twitch as dark, glaring eyes watch the girl trot with pride around on the stallion until she loops back towards him. “Impressive,” he confirms, but his chin tilts as if there was a catch. Without fear, he walks up to the horse before placing his hand on the stallion’s side. He could feel the ability as well, for Alastor had another type of control. Another type of druidic ability. Eyes flicker up to the woman. “One more test. You know, Lady Lanara,” he taunts, before circling around the horse, “As you know, lycans carry venom. One that can curse you--well, hopefully not forever at ze rate we are at with studies. Zhen again, ze venom cannot kill you, but zey can. Zey as in… lycans. Zey don’t have much control--not until zhey have had more time--even zhen, it’s hard for zhem.”
Tiber (3 of 3) :: Alastor begins to step back from out of the stables before he is near some overgrowth. In an instant, he begins to speak in a tongue. A very slippery, and hissing type of tone as he stares twistedly at the animal empath before him. The magic the scientist possessed had been one of communication. One where he could talk to creatures with his druidic ability. From the ground of overgrowth, a snake would begin to slither into the openness before them. A snake that had been irritated. This snake, however, had not been just any garden snake, this snake had a pattern of red, black, and yellow stripes. A coral snake. “Ah, a coral snake. You know what zhey say, ‘red touch yellow, kills a fellow. Red touch black, venom lack’,” teeth poke out in amusement. The scientist had a wicked test. “One bite, M’Lady, leads to respiratory failure. Zees little ones don’t like to play very much.” Then, the man would step back to watch Lanara perform the final test.
Lanara (Post 1 of 2) Lanara slides from the back of the stallion and slips through the space between the fence rungs, her lithe frame easing her outside of the pasture and back into her interview with Alastor. He’s impressed, she can tell that much from his facial expression, but she senses that there is more to this ‘test’ and she walks along at the man’s side. Pretending to crack her neck, she glances at the stable, and lo and behold Tiberius has fled the scene. Where did he go? Was he off hunting down her ex-fiance Eirik? Did one of Ambers’ men slip in and out and abduct her love? Had he truly left her to her own devices and taken the wolf commentary to heart? “I do not fear any animal, truly. I do think that those that are hybrids or ‘turned’ into beasts, are abominations of nature. Only meant to be studied or for entertainment purposes…” She’s lying, because she had many friends that fell into that category, and they had earned her respect. “I’m sure I can face any beast, with or without ability to control itself, Mister Ambers…” Is he speaking in tongues? Lana furrows her brows as she hears a rustling noise coming from beneath a pile of weeds, and her worst fear surfaces all but a few feet to the north. “Um. This? The snake? That’s my next test?” Lanara stammers and motions to the south, trying her best not to fall apart or run away screaming and crying, “There is a place called the Wildlands and dinosaurs live there… I would be pleased to show you my skills on say a T-Rex? Or one of those that spits acid? I insist!” Reptiles have never been her favorite, but snakes are Lanara Banks’ downfall, her number one fear, and she inhales sharply and studies the slithering coral snake. One bite can kill a village, she knows, and if it senses her nerves she’s going to be struck repeatedly. The witch has -never- tried her power on a serpent, and she planned on dying later in the week and leaving it up in the air about whether or not her ability would effect a cold blooded creature. Alastor is set on this ‘example’ and he beckons the witch further, as she casts a pleading look towards the stable, but her lycan has dodged the coop and abandoned her to be snake food. Can’t Tiber just charge into the field and stab the scientist to death, like NOW, preferably?
Lanara (Post 2 of 2) Closing her eyes, Lanara takes a few calming breaths to center her emotions, though when she opens her eyes she sees that the snake is still there and not some diabolical apparition. Alastor has gifts of his own, and for a heartbeat, she prays that he is not some naga-lord and that he won’t shift and demand a ‘third’ test of her skills. “I have to focus and this may take slightly longer than with the horse, because as you know, reptiles are cold blooded creatures. Nothing I can’t handle, though.” A forced smile is offered as her mouth is dry and she can barely swallow, but still, the show must go on. Doing this for Tiberius’ love and so that he can have a future pack, and also for Belgemine who was wicked to put ‘face a fear’ on her bucket list and this was fate's cruel sense of humor, she takes a step nearer to the snake so that she is now between Alastor and the bane of her existence. Lana’s hands are shaking, so she balls them into fists so as not to look too suspicious, and she carefully closes the distance, when the snake begins to coil. Should she grab it and hurl it into the bushes? Did he expect her to kiss it on the head? Let it coil about her wrist? Shakily, the witch bends to grab it, and it strikes! Once, twice! Thankfully, she is fast on her feet and has excellent balance from her days of being a dancer, so that on the third strike, she expertly pinches the snake behind the neck and holds it at arm's length. It feels cool to the touch, and familiar to satin, not at all slimey like she originally thought. Not that she’d ever warm up to the idea of cuddling a snake or bringing them into the sanctuary! Lana softly whispers to the snake, trying to picture it as an elongated sweet rabbit, and after a moment they both begin to settle down. Her wrist stops quivering, her breath is even, and she feels it’s safe enough to unlatch her hold on it’s head. The snake studies Lana and coils loosely about her arm, inhaling her scent, before it slowly inches it’s way up her arm and fixes itself around her bicep, mere inches from her throat. ‘Please, don’t bite me in the face.’ The witch is still, continuing to imagine a deformed bunny clinging to her arm, when the snake slowly uncoils and slithers downwards, until he reaches her left boot. Once there it pauses and peers at her one last time, before it returns to wherever it came from.
Tiber hears the tongue. A familiar tongue to the man who knew a lot about languages. Even druidic ones based with natural magic. Snake tongue. His jaw tenses, for the serpent speaker brings one of Lanara’s fear into light. There was hesitance, and the man did not want to inch into the vision on the other side of the stables. That would be too suspicious. He definitely would look like a watcher or protector of a sort if he was nosy, and then the trust would fade from the wicked man around the corner. In this moment, the only hope is that his love is stronger than the satin creature on the ground. Tiberius was not doing this for his revenge, for he was doing this for the other held captive beyond the orphanage. To end the cruelty of “The Basement”. Tiberius stands, and although he does not slip into view, he nears the wooden wall to jump in if the snake attacked, or if Alastor played any false moves with the witch. Right about now, Tiberius is holding his breath as he listens in on the movement beyond the stable wall.
Tiber :: A large, distorted grin plays on Alastor Ambers’ chiseled features as the witch offers to work with a dinosaur. “No, no, snakes are stealthy, slick. I prefer you fast at hand,” not only does it amuse Ambers at the thought, but it was important to the accented man that Lanara was a quick wit, “I run a tight crew, Lanara. I don’t let anyone just join,” a smirk is given before he crosses his arms and watches the movements. The way the snake attacks makes the twisted man want to laugh, but he remains still as Lanara works her magic and ways. Once the snake is tame, and moves back to the overgrowth, Alastor looks pleased. The mild trust is given. “My, my. Leopold is smart after all for fancying someone like you,” his tone was cool and collected. He pays no mind to her feelings regarding the cold creature. “Consider yourself in. Welcome to ze Basement, mademoiselle,” he grins. A hand slips in his pocket before handing her a key that had been shaped almost like a crescent moon at the top of the key. Pretty lame for an anti-lycan group. “Ze key. We are held just outside of ze Venturil Orphanage. A building just on the east outskirts of ze property.” Tunnels, however, link below the shelter for the kids. “A grey building. Almost like… what do you call it? A large storage?” The man then gives the woman another symbol. A cloth badge with claws on it. “We work at night. No earlier. You show zis to ze guards outside ze building, and zhey let you in. I expect you tonight, Lanara. Sharp, and don’t be late.” In the midst of impatience, Alastor turns on his heel in his dominant way. “See you zhen.” With that, Alastor Ambers had sauntered away into the distance again with a very eerie whistle and that twitch in his neck.
Lanara wants to backhand the smirk from Alastor’s face, but she refrains from doing so, for Tiber’s sake. This sadistic individual is her new boss?! She has to spend her last few days working for this creep?! She’s peeved and cannot wait to wash the gross feeling of the snake off of her hands, but she knows to mind her manners, as she accepts the key and the crest. “See you later, Mister Ambers. I look forward to working together.” She doesn’t mention his brother, even though he dangles the bait, because she had already taken care of Leopold. A wave is given to his back and she waits the appropriate amount of time, assuming he had cleared the area, before she runs into the barn and vomits in one of the empty stalls. A disgruntled goat bleats from the other side and she mutters a weak, ‘Sorry’ before she bursts into tears and scrubs her hands in a bucket of water. A bar of soap, likely left behind from Frethwi as he often has to clean his hands, is grabbed and she scrubs so hard that her skin is a bright shade of red and her nails tear the edges of her shirt. Lana cries openly, as she hadn’t realized what she had gotten herself into, nor did she have any idea of the horrors in store for her at the laboratory. The key and crest are safely placed on a bale of hay as she crawls further into the stall and curls up in a ball, not caring if she looks a hot mess, or even if Tiber thinks she’s a baby for fearing snakes. This had been a hard day for the witch! She could face rabid bears, a samurai with a flaming sword, heartache, hell, her own death! A snake? A -coral- snake? That is crossing the line! Between her weeping and throwing up the contents of her lunch, the woman is in dire need of a shower and a nap, so she won’t protest if Tiber carries her to the Fallen Star Inn. If the male is to return, as she thinks he had just left her entirely, she will glare at him with red-rimmed eyes and point, “I love you, and after what just happened? You better -never- question the depth of my love. You owe me, Lowell. I mean it… After we do what needs to be done? I want a magical date, with all the extras!”
Tiber heard the final words from Alastor. The task that Lanara was given by Tiberius had been accomplished, though… there was an unsettling feeling in his stomach at the thought of Lanara having to bend to perform such a task. Especially the last days she was holding onto. Unless, they found a cure, though… did Lanara really want to be a lycan? Especially after this scenario? They were digging deeper holes. Once footsteps travel away, the disguised lycan breaks from the wall and quickly rushes over to Lanara as she hurls over. A hand reaches for the back of his damp head before reaching out with the other to brush the woman’s back. The man is hesitant, and guilty for putting Lanara’s life on the line. Also, guilty for the fact of the true Alastor Ambers. The man who corrupted Tiber’s life. A sadistic man with a terrible way to show that he cared for his people. Alastor proved that he took lives of innocence for his own benefit of ‘curing the lycans’. Alastor Ambers was psychotic, and it was unnerving that Tiberius was putting Lanara in that position. “You did it, though…?” Tiber is hesitant, but has a lighter-toned voice, but clearly his girlfriend is suffering over what just happened. Best not push buttons and be on her side. “I love you, you know that… right?” He tries to work his charm. “Look, I’m trying to come up with a plan to get you out of that building as soon as possible. You need to get me in somehow.” He shakes his head. “Trust, I’ll give you whatever you want. I owe you. And I’ll give you more dates than just one,” he plays off that she is going to last longer than just one date. For his sanity. Tiberius sort of pokes her even if there was a risk of being slapped. “Let’s get you back to the inn.” With that, whether Lanara wants Tiber to sweep her off her feet or not, the two make their way back to the inn to prepare for what the future holds for them.