RP:One Beat

Joshua was not wearing his usual suit, or at least not most of it, the pants remain, the shirt too but no jacket or waistcoat. The tie of crimson around his neck is pulled at the knot to loosen it as he glances up at the sky that leaks through the leaves of the forest trees. A thoughtful "Hmm." just to himself and then a shake of his head, clearly the vampire is having some internal debate with himself. Then without any pomp or ceremony, he turns and starts the walk to weave back through the trees and find civilisation once again though appearing to come across the remains of what once was a building.

Sabrina is rummaging through some debris. Her home that once stood here still held valuable remnants of the items it once contained. She perks up to the sounds of an approach and turns her head to find none other than a gift giver she was not too fond of. Standing, she dusts off her pants and approaches. Then, with a smile and no warning she takes a calculated swing at his face. “You left her alive.” Apparently this was a merciful thank you to the full intent of what she wanted to do with him.

Joshua doesn't dodge or even so much as attempt to evade the hit from the raven haired woman so it lands squarely upon his jaw with a crack. Then and only then does he turn his head away to rub at the spot she had struck, eyes seeming to be filled with amusement. A step taken to lean against the door post, unfastened the cufflinks and slipping them into his pocket as he starts the slow and precise moves to roll up his sleeves to his elbows while he looks over the place that had once been a home. Starting conversation so pleasantly as if nothing untoward had happened, he quietly asks "Are times tough enough that you have to go rummaging in ruins for scraps Sabrina?" Though then he turns to face her, a sliver of a grin slipping on "I felt it was apt to keep her alive. If however you decide to toy with the career of being a funeral director or a coroner then that might change..."

Sabina’s cheeks flush. Her hand hurt but she wouldn’t let on. She looks behind her at the rubble she was still partially standing on. When he begins to roll up his sleeve she takes a step back, maybe assuming the gesture might be returned, which she hadn’t previously considered. “I am sure you passed the wreckage that is Larket on your way here. There are still thousands in need of medical supplies, and somewhere under all this is my home which used to house them.” His grin is returned with much sarcasm. “I won’t be.”

Joshua doesn't look like he is going to retaliate but instead walks a little further into the wreckage, a kick of a stone before he crouches down to tug at the corner of a book underneath. A swipe of his hand over the cover to remove the dirt and show the title beneath before he casually starts leafing through the pages, a habit that even in the dire circumstances of the mess of Sabrina's home and home town, doesn't die. Then with a sudden snap, the book closes and he turns his attention back to the other, steps taken towards her to close in the distance, provably close enough to invade her personal space, eyebrows knitted together in a frown before the book is presented to her "Yours?" There is barely a pause given to allow her to answer as he then moves on with his views not shared by those with kind hearts or morals "Maybe you should just let the injured be. Survival of the fittest and all. Perhaps you should just let them die. Fate's way of culling the population. "

Sabrina stands her ground with pursed lips as she makes a grab for the book in his hand. “I can’t do that.” Despite the male being in her space she does not resort to an informal retreat, instead she closes the distance and forces herself in his bubble. She might have looked slightly different since their last encounter. On the right side of her face a thick scar runs over her cheekbone, a blow that must have been extreme since the damage floods into her right eye which is not clouded with a thin white streak going through it. That eye did not respond to focus like the left, essentially, it was blind. “Do you expect everyone to be afraid of you?” His actions were taken as hostilities and returned in kind. No matter what he did it seemed to illicit the same response from her. Agitation.

Joshua quickly let's his eyes dart over the face of the healer, inspecting the mark upon her face in the manner that he would with a rare first edition but disappointingly damaged, trying to weigh up whether there was worth left. Calmly he then says "No." A short, sweet and terribly unsatisfying answer. There is more to come though her scar is looked at again first. "I am not a dragon with ten heads nor a monster made by a crazed mage. I expect no one to fear me...unless they have reason to. If there is reason to, they will know and there will be no doubt about it." Then his frown reappears and he asks "What happened to you?"

Sabrina reacts for the first time in a manner that wasn’t directly challenging him. Her hand goes to her face and she steps away, pulling a section of hair forward to cover the disgrace that was her visage. “I refused a man, that is all.” Chin up, she adds. “Under normal circumstances it would have healed fine, but I was already too physically exhausted and then had to immediately save his life when a Knight nearly killed him over the attack.”

Joshua is normally subdued in his reactions, only letting them show once he has deemed it acceptable but a spark of surprise slips on before it is forcibly washed away. "Ah." is the first and dry initial response. Slowly nodding in understanding but he loses any sense of understanding once the healer has said she saved the life of the guilty person. His curiosity prompting his words in his confusion "Why would you save him Sabrina? He should have died. You should have made sure he did not go ensure the opposite."

She sighs. "I don't know, its automated. It shouldn't be up to me or even my fault if someone dies." She turns, laying on hand in the other. "It is my job to preserve life... why can't you see that?" He was always on her about the same topic, she cared too much. Well, he cared to little. "I'd save you, if I could. And I don't even like you." Liking someone was never really a factor. She stopped explaining, likely it was something akin to talking to a wall when it came to him. "What do you care anyway? You'd probably been just as happy if the act killed me too."

A wall perhaps could relate more than the man who had to make people suffer in order to survive. So with a blink and a mandatory nod, shallow and purely for the show of acknowledging what she had said. However with his conflicting views, he argues back "It might be your job but a job does not shape a person alone. You still have the right to make choices. Use that right Sabrina. You need to sometimes make the wrong choice, it can quite often be the actual right choice. Think of it this way, of this man goes on to hurt others then you have had a hand in ruining their lives. If he had died, then others would be safe. You could have saved them by letting him die." A small frustrated growl rumbles in his throat at the unshakably strong moral compass the other has, turning to look away at the destruction once again or more precisely, just away from the woman. "You are or will be useful to me Sabrina. Not for your job. Tell me the man's name, I will correct your mistake in letting him live."

She turned her brows down to him. "I am not giving you his name. Besides, he was arrested on sight and currently resides in the gallows awaiting execution." She clarifies. "I can not be responsible, what Larket deems necessary it is not for me to intervene." She is getting more irritated. With hand on her hip she cocks her head to the side. "How could I possibly be useful to you?" She walks around him, tending to her previous spot of unreachable goods. Taking to her knees she puts herself at the barrier of a section of what used to be the roof. She leans in, stretching that pathetic appendage as far as it would go before electing to wrench her small frame between the crack of two structured sections. She knew it was down there, at least, this is where it should have been; the storage bank for the more potent herbs before they were diluted for use.

The agitation, annoyance and frustration in the other was mutual. So once again when she comes out in defense of the ways of the human world, with it's laws, rules and opinion of what is right and wrong, he clenched a hand tight into a fist. All those things he knew would be the end of his kind as people knew it, vampires and others classed an monsters would be hunted, killed or imprisoned. Those who escaped that fate would be destined to live lives of 'domestication', only feeding on what was approved, the hunter instinct would die and they would be the equivalent of house cats, while suitable for some, cruel to others. "Time will show you." is all he will say upon the matter of Sabrina being of use, whether he is right or not will be something they both find out. Though he watches her return to her original purpose of being in this place, pulling out a small silver engraved case that causes the tips of his fingers to burn. A cigarette pulled out, lit and pocketed while she struggles. A large cloud of smoke billows around him, his fingertips healing quickly as he finally caves and follows, leaving a step between them as he looks to the crevice her arm is in, before he asks out of duty "May I try for you? And what is it you are trying to do?"

She shoots him one of those independant woman faces and resides to creeping into the crevice fully. Her slight weight tips the balance of the propped debris and in effect brings the ceiling dangerously close to loosing its integrity. "Frak!" She is both embarassed and infuriated. Peering up at him from where she lay she finally gives in. "Help me up." Though, that didn't necassarily come out as a kind request. Surely he didn't take well to orders, but her bare hand was outstretched expecting his assistance as it was offered.

His cigarette kept between his lips to free up his hands, taking the one she had lifted with expectancy in his cool one. Then with a simple "Always." as if he were her most trusted and reliable friend rather than a thorn in her backside, deliberately trying to get under her skin. There isn't much if any effort needed to lift her, the woman was light and though he was firm he was also gentle in a sense, believing her to be as fragile as humans are. His other hand curls around her waist, with the same gentle firmness, pushing her back to free up the gap he needed access to. Once she is away, he crouches down to look into the space, his keen eyes of using in the darkness to see what is hidden within before glancing up and around the precarious and fragile ruins that could come crashing down, analysing and calculating. Finally he holds up his cigarette, similar expectant demand like air as she had used as he says "Hold this."

Being what he was, her direct toch would do nothing in the way of energy transfer. This she didn't worry about. What she didn't consider was that throwing out the physical effect of her gift did not also mean the emotional transfer went with it. He was dead, not baron of feeling. She is light, despite his strength and easy enough to manipulate at his own will. She wasn't fragile by any means except in that moment when his hand curls around her waist. This kind of proximity was unheard of and he would be flooded with an instant sort of girlish bashfullness which allowed him to push her to the backurner. She hesitates on taking his cigarette, eventually doing just that. But she didn't stop there; the enittiled bitch took to smoking it herself. "You weigh more than me." She explains, gesturing to the teetering ledge. "You sure that is wise?"

That emotional transfer was a surprise but he says nothing of it though he would ponder over it later. For now he had a problem to solve and for once that problem without an answer was not Sabrina. As the raven haired woman comments about his heavier weight than her waif one, he continues to look into the space and then glances around. Quite serious and solemn, he says "That's not a problem. There are many things you don't know about me Sabrina. You judge me and see me as a cold hearted killer but you don't know about my many years of training in the circus or my shape shifting abilities. So what I am going to do is take a running start at that wall...." pointing to the one opposite "Somersault and use it to project myself straight in the gap, arms straight like a diver to slip straight in without putting weight on anything here. Then I will morph into a mouse, crawl behind whatever it is that you are looking to get. Quickly shift back into a vampire to push it out and then back into a mouse again as the wall will have crumbled and I will be able to crawl out of the crevices." The vampire then slowly stands up, looking at her as she smokes his cigarette, arching a brow unimpressed and then turning to walk to the wall he had pointed at and claimed he was going to somersault off but instead he plucks a long metal pole from it and slowly walks back, clearly his spoken plan had been a very deadpan joke and nothing of the sort was going to happen. Instead he unites the knot of his necktie to loosen it from his neck to start to feed it through a hole in the pole, fastening it and leaving a loop upon the end. Then he crouches down once more, feeding the pole down the gap with the aim of finding a way to hook the container or some thing upon the container theire with the loop to slowly pull it forward. "Or we try this, my mouse shifting might be a little rusty these days." Or clearly as false as any made up time with the circus.

She was standing there with a look of disbelief as her eyes follow his outlandish scheme to recover the box she sought. It almost looked like she was going to interupt him a time or two, instead opting on smoking quietly. When he starts managing the noose a wry grin hits the corner of her mouth. Shaking her head she turns her back to him and what came next was a rare laugh. She apparently bought into his circus show and this was a much logical relief. Once he recovered the box she returns his smoke to him, nearly extinguished, but returned nevertheless. The box is opened, inspected, and a look of glee hits her features as she smiles wide, biting on her lower lip to stifle her excited expression. "This." She says. "This is what I was after." She turns the box so he can view its contents and inside were some of the most regulated herbs and powders that Hollow had to offer. Most days these mixes can only be obtained through a Master Healer and if someone got ahold of it she would be hard pressed to get it back. It was her secret stash. She takes out a small sheet of paper and measures out a thin line of powder and a thicker crumble of herb before rolling it neatly and offering it to him. A gesture of some peace that would probably never play out.

There seems to be one more drag left of the cigarette by the time it is returned to him. So with a mouth full of smoke, he drops it onto the rubble to crush under his shoe and while she inspects the contents of the box, he inspects his tie which has not fared well in it's alternative use, dirtied and some of the material having snagged, it seems it is no longer destined to be neckwear but add to the broken useless items in the ruined building. Dropping that too upon the floor, now unwanted and in time to see the offering Sabrina had made. A loft of his brow coolly and folding his arms in front of his chest with absolutely zero moves to take it, seeming so unlike a man who even knew what a joke was, let alone ever having told one, he then shakes his head. "No. That won't do. You owe me more than that. Much more than that." Letting her mull over what he might ask, allowing her to cross off the obvious, it won't be money he wants, it wasn't drugs or medication he wanted, it was something else. "I want you to make the wrong choice Sabrina. You owe me that much. In payment for my help, I want you to make a choice that everyone will think is wrong for you, one that is morally corrupt and selfish. Do something because that is what you want to do and not because it is fair, nice, the right thing to do. Seven days enough for you to achieve this?"

She recoils the offering in hand, eyeing him specualtively. "You want me... on purpose?" She is thinking hard on it, not even knowing where to begin. Since he wasn't taking the gift she resorted to lighting it herself and laying back against the slab. Taking in a deep drag she holds it for a time and exhales slowly. "I am not sure I can? I mean... I have done things before... but what? You want me to kill someone?" She takes another quick, much shorter drag. "No, I don't think it is a fair trade. One good deed for one bad one?" A smile. "You can't be serious."

In a tone that is gravelly soft and unaffected by the topic they discuss, he corrects "I didn't say kill someone. Though if you wanted to jump in at the deep end of frowned upon choices, go for it. Though for you, with your heart a little softer and forgiving than most I would recommend something a little less severe to start off with. As for what, it is up to you, though I do expect you to tell me about it and be truthful." Hands slip into his pockets of his pants, starting a slow walk around the perimeter of the destroyed site, gaze darting to bits to try to identify small broken items of what they once were before returning to Sabrina, a fanged smile flashing for a second as he adds what he likes to call incentive on his deal though it is likely more blackmail "If you don't, then I might have to send you more flowers. Violet? A Dahlia? Oh I know, a Heather. It would be apt for you given their medicinal properties." Though of course he isn't on about flowers but the women who unfortunately share their name with the blooms. "I hope you appreciate how much effort I put into finding these flowers to send to you. It takes a lot of work and hunting."

She is mad at him all over again. Sitting up quickly she puts out the rolled herb and flicks it at his feet. "Why do you do that? Whats wrong with you?" She stands, leaving the box where it is for now. Her approach is similar to the greeting, except she doesn't ouright hit him. Instead, she pokes her thin finger hard unto his chest. "Why does everything have to be a wicked game for you?It's sick." Disgust laced her words. There were times he could make her forget what he was and then there was times like these. Would the manipulation ever end if she started down this path? "Tell me what qualifies as something I wouldn't do." She puts little quotation fingers on the last two words, expecting he knew less of her than he probably thought.

Joshua's walk stops as Sabrina comes to her feet, turning to face her in time for her strides towards him. One hand leaves his pocket to rise and if she would allow lightly pinch her chin between thumb and finger to tilt her head just half an inch to the side, two reasons cause this, number one to look upon the mark again and number two, to see if the effect of touching her would occur once more. Regardless whether it works or not, he quietly muses "I like sending you gifts." as if his presents were kind, thoughtful ones not twisted ones of horror. Then semi distracted by the mark upon her he would continue "Games. The whole point of a game is that they are fun. That has to be the primary objective. It is fun. However a good game is one that makes you think, is a challenge, I need that. Then thirdly, there has to be a cost of you lose the game, there is certainly that. That is why I play games. You should sometime, I think you would benefit from it." Then his hand drops, returning to his pocket and his eyes of grey firmly upon her own. Though it be true he knew little about the mysterious woman, whether rightly or wrongly, from what she had said and how she portrayed herself, he felt he knew enough "Make someone suffer for no more than your own want and entertainment. Whether it be physically or mentally."

She almost flinched when he touched her, the emerald gaze of that one good eye hard on his shifted instantly to near white. He'd feel nothing; not in the sense of lack of something but a cold distinct absence of anything. She shut him out. "Those aren't gifts. Those are tributes to a war you do-not- want." A flash of deep green-near black, for just an instant. It was beyond rage. She was more than capable. "You seem to be confused as to whether I have done it before." Just before his hand drops he would feel a rush of disgusting life, one so powerful he would likely feel something he hadn't felt in centuries. A single beat of his dead heart, meant to inflict a kind of pain he was likely unfamiliar. But she took pleasure in it. "No voluntary act is without its own reward." If he wanted to test her resolve she could always give him more; bringing back to life something that would simply die again. It wouldn't be the first time and with his kind it was her only defense. Was he suffering? probaby not outside of that momentary movement in his chest cavity. But it was enough.

He is very intense on his attention upon her, never once looking away as she talks, eyes narrowed enough to be solely focused on her and lips sealed as she is allowed to talk without interruption. Yet that beat of his heart, the stretch of the muscle that was vital to so many and redundant to him, is indeed immensely painful even if brief, an involuntary groan of pain trapped in his mouth, muffled by his lips and a flinch he didn't have a hope in hell of hiding. Eyes clench, hand by his side does too and staying that way for a moment after, unclear whether he is struggling to over come the pain or whether he is trying to keep that brief moment...sensation of a heart beat that those who have it have grown too used to and don't even feel, trying to keep that long forgotten moment trapped in his memory. Yet he isn't going to divulge which he is doing, eyes slowly open, fist too, flexing his fingers slowly by his side but then comes the faint smile, one that tugs at one corner of his lips before he near whispers a "Well done." Whether she had intended or not, she had truly fulfilled her part of the deal and caused suffering for no more than her pleasure, of course on him which hasn't been the ideal choice but it deliberately hadn't been excluded from the deal as it being inflicted on him was still preferable to her not doing it, it was a small step in what he thought was the right direction for her. "There is the little monster in you rearing it's ugly head." Then straightening up and pulling his cufflinks out of his pocket as he slowly starts to roll down his sleeves, pleasantly saying as if they were once again firm friends that only had pleasant times together "Was there anything else I might help you with before I depart Ms Skaði?"

She looks different for a moment as she watches him cycle through what ever he needed to in order to process that forgotten sensation. The muffled groan of pain in his throat brought a slight smug smile to the corners of her mouth. Her gaze is more intense that she meant it to be until that snide remark breaks her basking glory with a twitch of brow and sotening of her features. Well done? Smugness turned to an unheard growl. His further comment was answered only by a sharp "Piss off." And the way he said her name like that, she wasn't sure of anything except her discomfort. Her right hand rears up, the tell tale signs of the movements in her core announced a sharp slap that was headed towards his face. He was frustrating, childish, and egotistical. And she liked it. She hated that she liked it. Her elvish was old, undiluted by the passing years of mainland slang and adaptations. She quite literally told him to perform acts on himself that would unlikely be met with success.

Sabrina had been given free reign with the hit when she had first seen him but the second would not be given freely so when her hand raises and swings towards him, he lifts his own to block and prevent the hit. "No, we will not be saying farewell the same way as said hello." The vampire can't help but get some satisfaction in her annoyance with him, her anger that she showed, it was a reaction that he enjoyed. As Sabrina spewed insults freely in the old language, he simply listens, though he could read the written word of elves and many mutated forms of it, he could not speak it nor understand it when it was spoken to him, Joshua was a man of the written word only. So he could guess by the animated way she spoke that it was likely nothing pleasant but precisely what, he is ignorant of. In his seemingly usual air of carrying on through the storm of Sabrina as if it were a little breeze, he cooly says "I need to get supplies in the next few days. You can come with me." Not asking but simply telling his expectations but then a nod of his head, mimicking a bow but more casual and subtle and to act as a farewell "It has been a pleasure as always." That said, he turns and starts his departure.

She is huffy when he turns to leave, not offering company or even a response other than crossing her arms over ample chest with a pouty sort of look on her face. Once he left he would likely hear the faint sounds of a muffled scream- a tantrum of sorts, bled into the filtering layers of her bag and not really meant for his ears. And... Pig? There are a series of other insults disclosed in the company of only herself as she went back to the box and rolled herself another concoction which she would smoke furiously until it was out.