RP:Plot Holes and Revelations

Summary: Khitti, wounded after the events of Bloody Rain, Some Stay Dry And Others Feel The Pain, collapses alone in the night. Dominic comes upon her but is unable to do anything himself. Instead, Brand takes over and carries her to a healer. Discussion ensues. Brand is the epitome of a gentleman, as always.

Town Well

Khitti :: After the sheer horror and destruction that had been rained upon the war camp and the ambush that followed when Hildegarde and a few chosen allies set off after the frost giants that had made the attack, the small group (what was left of them anyway) had taken up refuge in the frozen mansion in the north once everything was said and done. This did not set well with Khitti. She was still battered from makeshift fight club that she had formed with a single frost giant the day before last, broken and cracked ribs still causing her much torment. Only now, now she had worse problems. Logs had been thrown by the Frostmaw giants that had taken Balgruuf's side in this war. At the start of the attack, the vampiress had been impaled by the shrapnel from one of the javelin-thrown tree trunks as it exploded on impact right next to her. During the assault, she had managed to pull it free and used her magic to protect her allies, but now she was gravely weakened. She was by no means an elder vampire and it would take quite a lot of time for her to heal. This didn't stop her restlessness, however, as once it was certain that Hildegarde and the others were safe, she stole off into the night. She passed the charred corpse of Mikael, Hildegarde's faithful protector that had risked his life for her. She stepped around the sizzled remains of some of Kreekitaka's brethren. It had been a massacre. The vampiress kept to the shadows, intent on not being seen by any frost giant that may have been sent back to spy on the unfortunate band of warriors. She made her way quickly to the village in the mountains, oh so near to the park and that of the Destrier where the healers had taken the those that cannot fight. The redhaired woman was so close...so very close...but once she made it to the well's area, she could go on no longer. There had been no chance to feed before the onslaught and nor did she tell her companions of her shoulder's plight. There was no time for weakness now, you know. Mere feet from well itself, she collapses on the ground, her duster a tattered mess from the wood shrapnel, her hair in tangles as it had managed to sneak itself out of the braid it had originally been in.

Dominic always seemed to hear about these things too late to do anything. By the time whispers of the battle had made their way to Kelay, it was already done and he was too late to insert himself into the fray. Still, he’d only stuck around long enough to hear the barest of details before making his way to Xalious, where the camp had been last. He didn’t care if it was night, this time. He had to do -something- (though he’d set off in such a hurry that he realized, too late, that he actually hadn’t heard exactly where it was the fighting had taken place, or even where the camp was now). But the man never made it all the way to where the camp had been -- he caught sight of Khitti’s fallen form and rushed forward, kneeling at her side and sliding his runed stone out of his pocket. After a short delay, the stone lit up, casting their surroundings in a soft aquamarine glow and distorting the shadows around them. He held it above her, taking in her condition with his lips in a grim line. He called her name in a whisper as his other hand lightly reached for hers, trying to assess her level of consciousness without startling her. She seemed to be breathing, at least. That was something.

Khitti heard her name called. It felt so distant, like something in a dream. Then she began to feel the glow of the rune stone as it was held over her. Between the two, it helped to bring her back to the realm of the living, or in her case, unliving. As unconsciousness is fought back, the pain returns. She cringes as it surges through her form, blood still flowing lightly from the gaping wound on her shoulder. There'd be no butterfly to flit around Dominic now, her magic nearly spent, the shadow being known as Amarrah lying dormant within Khitti as she too preserved her strength. Eyelids part briefly to take in the human's face before closing again. "Dominic...? No...you shouldn't be here...zhe frost giants..." There were no frost giants to be seen for they had all retreated, but it was now a constant worry of Khitti's nonetheless.

Dominic swallowed back a rising panic and cursed under his breath. The more he looked at her, the more a mess he realized she was. Green eyes darted across her form, eerily reflecting the light from the stone. He highly doubted she could walk in that state, and he doubted he had the muscle to carry her, either. Not that he didn’t have other ways, as Brand ever so politely reminded him from a corner of his mind, but... dammit, he hadn’t wanted to show her. Not like this. He wasn’t sure he had any other option, though. “There’s no frost giants here. N-not now. You’re okay; you’re going to be fine.” He was trying to sound confident, but the tremble in his voice belied that. He had not the slightest clue how to help her except to get her to a healer. “We’re in Xalious. Do you know where the closest healer to here is? Otherwise, I can get you to the one in Kelay.”

Khitti ever so slowly tried to sit up, his words distant and barely heard again as her mind wavered back and forth across the line of consciousness. "I need..." She can barely pull her shoulders from the ground she lay on before she's falling back down, though her uninjured arm doesn't shoot to hold the opposite shoulder in pain, instead moving to her ribs. The lack of strength had stopped her preternatural healing which she so desperately needed. "...need..." Her left arm, the wounded one, lifts up, her hand searching blindly to grab his shirt, to grip it and pull him closer. "...blood..." If she had the will, she'd tell him to go to the Destrier, to bring back bottles of the thick, red liquid, but alas, she's unable to.

Dominic was pulled forward by the sleeve as Khitti struggled for words. He couldn’t help but stare into her face, his jaw gone slack. He’d somehow forgotten she was a vampire -- if in fact he’d ever -fully- registered it at all. She wasn’t at all like how he pictured them from stories and the one time he’d been attacked in Cenril... hadn’t seemed crazed by a need for blood, hadn’t immediately leapt on him for being a hapless passerby (and he still held that he probably deserved the arrow pointed at his face). So, this was a jarring reminder. “Can -- can I give you some without ... turning?” He pulled himself out of her grasp and tugged a small knife out of one boot. “Y-you’d basically have to drain me dry to actually do anything, right?” His hands were shaking horribly. This was an awful idea, but he couldn’t just leave her like this.

Khitti fell back into that darkness in her mind as she continued to weaken. "No..." No what? No it wouldn't turn him? No she didn't need to drain him? The negative answer is left unexplained as her hand falls to the ground once he's pulled away. If only Daermon had been there, had chosen to help Hildegarde and the rest. Being his fledgling, things could've been easily remedied with a nice long drink of the elder vampire's blood. She really ~wasn't~ like the others of her kind. So many months had passed since her turning and she still had yet to drink from the living. Daermon had chided her about it, the other vampires in Vailkrin that knew thought her strange. What sort of vampire doesn't drink from the living?

Dominic cursed again and shoved the knife back into its hidden sheath. Maybe he alone was impulsive and self-sacrificial enough to have bled for her, and any consequences be damned. But he was never alone, and Brand wouldn’t have such ‘gorram stupidity’, in his words. An internal conversation shot rapid-fire through his mind before he rose to a standing position and backed a couple steps away, still shaking. Back to Plan A, then. “Khitti,” he called, unsure if he could even hear her anymore. “We’re -- we’re going to get you to someone who can help, okay?” A beat, in which his heart pounded in his ears. “I wish there was time to explain.” Another pause, then a whispered, “Please don’t hate me.” He ducked for just a moment behind the other side of the well. She probably couldn’t watch him in her condition anyway, but... he felt too self-conscious about this to take that chance.

Khitti felt his heartbeat grow fainter as he moved away from her, the lack of the comforting sound bringing her back somewhat. "Dom...inic? No...don't...leave me." With his words unheard and his presence waning, as well as Amarrah essentially asleep, she resigned to this being 'it'. She was now truly alone. No longer would the vampiress accompany her beloved elder vampire through eternity like originally planned. She would not get to prove herself. No. This has been made of her own stupidity. She never should've sparred with that frost giant. Never should've gotten herself injured knowingly in the midst of war. But it was much too late for regrets now, wasn't it?

Dominic || The man who approached her from behind the well looked and sounded very little like Dominic. He was taller, older, with a slim but sturdier build. Short hair in a rusted blonde sprouted from his head in lieu of Dominic’s longer, messier black hair, and the man maintained scruff where Dominic had none. His heart beat at a strong but calm cadence. The only clues that they belonged to the same body were those identically-hued irises, a similar (though not identical) scent, and some similarities in the timbre of the man’s voice, though it was much rougher. “Hmph. You’re quite the mess, girl,” he grunted before sinking to his knees and picking up her lithe body. He took care to brace her weight against his in such a way that he wouldn’t needlessly exacerbate her wounds, but -- there were a lot of them, it seemed. He took off north and east in a hurried walk, grumbling something to himself inaudibly.

Khitti was...being picked up? "No...", she muttered faintly, "Let me go!" Whatever will or strength that was left within her was used just then to try to struggle out the strange man's grasp. The nearly thirty-year-old let out a growl, like a wounded animal giving that last go at living, both arms flailing somewhat. It doesn't last long, however. Just as quickly as the fire in her was summoned up to fight him off, it quickly died and she slipped off into unconsciousness completely.

Mountain Path

Dominic || Brand squinted down and scoffed at his charge as she struggled, slowing his pace somewhat to focus on dealing with her. Minimizing harm was only a concern if she wouldn’t writhe so, dammit. He adjusted his grip enough to grab at one flailing arm and pin it, roughly, to her side. The other smacked him cleanly in the face; he regarded it with a scowl. “Seven hells, woman. I’m tryin’ to -save- your ungrateful ass. Stop struggling.” It wasn’t until he was sure she was actually unconscious this time that he loosened his grasp again. Ugh. Just frakking -once-, it would be nice if someone would realize what was good for them and not fight so damned much.

Khitti laid there in Brand's arms like the venerable damsel in distress. Her mind swirled with darkness, that unconscious dreaming taking hold. She didn't move at all for now, but every once in awhile a name would be uttered as she slipped back and forth through the waking world. 'Daermon'. 'Pilar'. These names would likely be foreign to Brand, but the way they were said by the vampiress, it would seem that they were likely people she held dear to her.

Northern Sage Forest

Dominic || The darkness made the path much more difficult to navigate -- when a path existed at all. More than once he almost lost his footing, and the vampire lass with it. The only blessing in this whole damned situation was that nothing attacked them on the way. The healer in North Sage... Brand didn’t particularly care for healers and cleric-type people as a general rule, but he’d deemed this one not too bad. Did good work, and minded her own gorram business. No proselytizing about living in the light of some supposed deity or other. Simple and straight to business without any of the frills that grated on him so much. He approached the humble home where she could be found and slammed his foot against the door a couple times to announce his presence. Easier than knocking, with his hands full. A lamp within moved, the flame casting writhing shadows against the curtains, and then the door cracked open. He was greeted by a small, pot-bellied woman with more hair than seemed reasonable, tied up behind her in a wild silver bun. Brand entered with only a vaguely familiar nod at her and headed straight for a back room with his burden, calling over his shoulder, “Vampire gal. Said she needed blood. And more’n just that, by the look of her.” He set her down on an empty cot as the healer followed and began to grab the supplies she’d need, then dragged a chair over to an out of the way corner and sat with his arms folded casually over his chest.

Khitti was still more or less out when she was laid upon the table. As the healer scurried about, more dreaming befell the vampiress. The lack of blood was really starting to do her in. She began to writhe a bit, wrists held against the table itself as if she were actually strapped to it. She twists and contorts, not wildly though, but much like someone who was merely asleep and having a nightmare. "No...let me go...please don't...I can't take anymore of zhis..." The healer moves to the vampiress, a large bowl filled with the needed items is soon emptied, then filled with warm water. "I'm going to need your help. You need to hold her down and open her mouth." The old woman retrieves a few bottles of blood from where she had set her tools, uncorking all of them. "She's going to need to drink quite a lot. Not only is she weak from blood loss, but it would appear she's used all of her magic too." It would seem the woman might know a thing or two about vampires.

Dominic || Brand cocked a brow at the healer, but would do as he was told. He rose from his chair and took the couple of paces forward to one side of the cot. “Yeah, gotcha.” His eyes scrutinized Khitti’s movements for a moment -- he’d been there, lurking in the background, when she’d told her story. He suspected he might know what she was going on about, though he didn’t think he could do much about it. Straddling the table now, he put her in a hold, pinning her arms to her sides with the strength of a leg and one arm, and with the other propping her head up slightly with her mouth held open. To Khitti, he grumbled, “Sorry, lass.” To the healer, he asked, “Good enough?”

Khitti was none the wiser about things other than the replaying memories going on in her own mind. Tears had formed in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. The healer pays no mind to the delirious female, nodding to Brand once he's ready. Cautiously, the healer leans over the table, pouring in just a few drops of the red liquid. The crying and murmuring stops. A bit more blood is poured in, the taste of the drink finally registering with the female. It flips a switch in her bewildered state, the need to feed turned on immediately. A cat-like hiss issues forth from vampiress, fangs gnashing in the air first at the healer and then at Brand. ~This~ was the stereotypical vampire Dominic heard of. She squirms beneath him, but thankfully for the male and the old woman, Khitti's so weak that her strength is more human than vampire. After a bit of struggling, and some of the blood being spilled along the table, in Khitti's hair, and on her clothes, the healer gives up. Still maintaining her cool, the mouth of the bottle is popped into the dark ranger's mouth, silencing her snarls and growling. The source of that sacred nourishment is realized and Khitti's quickly draining the bottle. While it's not as potent as the blood from the one that sired her, she gains the much needed strength to regain her senses. The next bottle is offered, but before it can be shoved into her mouth, Khitti mutters with vague irritation, "Get him off of me..."

Dominic || Brand was practiced enough to not lose his grip on Khitti through all her combativeness, though it had still been a bit like trying to stay atop a spooked horse. He regarded her with a surly expression, but said nothing to her or to the healer all through it. After her words, he looked to the healer for permission to do as Khitti asked. At another nod from the older woman, he leaned back on his haunches and then rolled to the side and off of her, landing back on his feet with a dancer’s grace. As the healer coaxed Khitti into resuming the feeding, Brand waved a dismissive hand at the younger of the two. “You’ve got a funny way of saying ‘thank you’. Could have easily just left you there, y’know.” He wouldn’t have -- he never would have heard the end of it from Dominic, and things went better when they weren’t figuratively at each other’s throats, but ... still. Rude.

Khitti soon drained the next bottle as she's given Brand's bit of attitude. With her head more firmly on her shoulders, she fixates on him, studying him and feeling as if she was supposed to know him. He smelled...odd. Like Dominic, but not? It was entirely confusing for Khitti, not the mention the fact that Brand was also wearing Dominic's clothing. That untrusting hesitation surfaces again, but as she's taking the third and final bottle of blood, she finally speaks, "Zhank you..." A pause. "Who are you?...and vhere am I?" Still staring, she finally focuses on his eyes. She knew those eyes. They just happened to be the same ones to stare back at her the other night in the restaurant. "Dominic...?" She does her best to remain calm for now, but she was already starting to feel on edge.

Dominic || Brand stared silently as she sort-of recognized him, one eye narrowing slightly at the spoken name and doing little to lessen the intensity of his gaze. He folded his arms over his chest again, one corner of his lips turned in a smirk. “Brand,” he corrected, tersely. “Heya.” He glanced briefly up at the healer -- it wasn’t a story he was going to explain with her around, that was for sure -- but she’d likely leave them alone once her work was finished. It could wait until then. He shrugged one shoulder back at Khitti. “S’complicated. Tell ya later. But we’re in Sage and you’re in good hands.” He nodded his head towards the older woman with a flirtatious wink. “She’s patched me up once or twice now. She’s quiet and she’s quick.” The healer smiled demurely and mumbled something about ‘just following her calling’ before further attending to Khitti.

Khitti continued to stare at Brand, somewhat lost in thought. What in the hell was going on? A brief shake of her head is given before she's looking towards the healer then. Oh. Right. The bleeding. Should she dare turn down the woman's help? She could so easily just go to Vailkrin and find Daer. But then, she'd also likely get some flack for getting hurt in the first place. She'd always been accident-prone and he'd made fun of her for it once or twice amongst her training. With a faint hm, she just nods to whatever silent questions she asked herself. Gingerly, she pulls the duster off, letting the torn thing drop to the floor for now. She felt naked almost without it, an uncertain glance give first to Brand and then the healer. With her shoulders bare as well as her back partially thanks to the thin straps and design of her dress, it's clear to see why she acted the way she did, though it wouldn't be noticed til she turned around."Just lay down on the table, dear, and I'll fix you up. You should be healed fully in a few days, but I'll stitch you up for the time being. Anything else causin' you pain besides the shoulder?" Another glance at Brand and then she's turning her back to him, laying down on the table. For a moment, he'd be able to see the various scars that littered her back. They appeared thick and deep, but also oddly precise, as if someone with medical knowledge made the marks. Somber now, Khitti stares up at the ceiling as the old woman sets to work, first placing a numbing salve around the outer edge of the wound and then begins to stitch her up. "I zhink...my ribs might be broken." is all that's said by the vampiress for the moment.

Dominic || Brand, deciding he wasn’t needed now, slunk back to his chair. If he had any thoughts about the brief flash of scars, he certainly wasn’t expressing them. He had plenty of his own scars, though they were much more irregular and were mostly covered by his clothing at the moment. He didn’t appear to harbor any of Dominic’s anxiety and only the barest of concern toward Khitti; he stopped watching the healer as she worked. Instead, he stared idly into the hearth that had been lit sometime long before they’d arrived. The embers were slowly starting to die, and the light with it -- until Brand slightly flexed a couple fingers and it erupted again, previously unreached parts of the wood crackling in the new blaze. He looked positively bored throughout.

Khitti was about as fond of Brand as he was of her at this point. Gone was the man that seemed so similar to herself and now he was replaced with this person that was nothing more than your typical jerk. Disdain flickered on her features until she felt that surge of magic. Her attention drifts away from the woman and her work to look at the fireplace. Crimson brows furrow as she studies it, but otherwise remains silent. "There's not much I can do for broken ribs besides bandage you up a bit." Sitting up and sliding off the table, Khitti shakes her head at the healer, "It's fine. 'Tis something I can do on my own." Assuming such a service requires payment, she asks, "How much am I to pay you?"

Dominic || Brand piped up from behind her, finally turning his gaze away from those flames and settling them on his vampiric ward. “It’s already taken care of,” he interjected, matter-of-factly. The elder woman smiled softly at him with a “stay as long as you need -- there’s tea and pastries in the kitchen,” and then bowed, first to Brand and then to Khitti. She uttered a soft murmur of aftercare instructions to the latter before leaving the room, the door left just slightly ajar. The patter of her footsteps carried down the hall and off into some room around the corner, safely out of earshot. Brand smiled, uncharacteristically warm, until she was gone. Good woman. But he still peeked outside the room and down the hall before spinning to Khitti with a smirking, “So, I suppose you’re owed an explanation. ‘Bout me and the kid, I mean.” A beat, in which his expression softened slightly. “Though there’s nothin’ keeping you or us here, if you want to go. You’re not being held hostage.” His words were pointed straight at the story she’d told before, but he said it sincerely, kindly, without perceivable malice. He wasn’t a jerk -all- the time.

Khitti manages a faint smile and a nod for the woman as she took off, but the expression soon turns into a smirk to mirror his own, "Zhat vould be nice", a slight attitude rolling off her tongue with ease to accompany her accent. Khitti was quickly getting back to normal. The tattered duster is scooped up off the floor with a faint 'oof' and slipped back on before she turns back to Brand. She goes to cross her arms over her chest, but at the moment it's too painful, so she contents herself with shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat.

Dominic || Brand flopped back into his chair, one ankle perched on the opposing knee, elbow perched on the ankle, face perched on the hand above the elbow. He rubbed absentmindedly at his stubble for a moment, eyes peering into hers as he searched for the right words. “So... one body --” he lifted up a digit on his free hand, “ -- and two entities sharing it.” He raised a second finger. “Not a whole lot unlike you, I gather.” He canted his head slightly, dropping his free hand to rest on his previously unoccupied knee. “Pretty simple. You already know the ‘who’. The ‘why’ is a bit fuzzy, except that the kid never could fight. Still can’t, not really. S’my job.” He smirked. “The ‘how’ -- “ he shrugged, “-- always had magic, but otherwise your guess is as good as mine. The ‘where’ and the ‘when’ --” Brand paused, seemingly diving into the archives of whatever memories were available to him. “Catal, sometime at -least- a decade ago. Not sure. Life as a mercenary’s slave doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for keeping track of the time, heh.” Was he really cracking jokes, now…? He certainly didn’t seem very emotional about any of this. The facts were rattled off with no hint of any of the pain and isolation this must have caused, at least for Dominic. “So... yep. Not as pretty or as tragic a telling as your story, but there it is.” Undoubtedly there was more, but he apparently preferred the short version.

Khitti tilted her head as she stood there, listening to Brand carry on. So they ~were~ like her, but still different. The vampiress hms to herself musing quietly. Everything's fine and dandy and she's nodding along until he mentions Catal. First, a look of surprise. Then, a look of confusion, "Vait. Vhat? C-Catal?" How did it come to be that she'd know two people from the same place? It's not ~that~ rare of an occurrence, but with what the fallen hero had told her, Catal was much like Dhavislaav: completely erased from existence and nothing more than a memory. "So...you know Lionel, then." She stared at Brand, gauging his reaction as she moved to lean against the table she had just been laying on.

Dominic || Brand blinked twice in rapid succession. He’d stated his home realm casually, with little thought given to how rare it was to be a Catalian in Lithrydel -- or anywhere else now, to be fair. Her interest had been unexpected. “Lionel? Hmm. Met the guy, yeah, now that you mention it. Odd fellow. Odder sword. Happened to show up in the right place at the right time; very useful, that. Prob’ly a few more Catalians runnin’ around here somewhere from the same ship I got here on.” He was vague, his words darting around the story of their meeting rather than delving deeply into it. “But ‘know’ him? Nah, I wouldn’t say that.” Brand waved a hand dismissively, then his eyes narrowed quizzically at Khitti. “Why? I’m guessin’ you know the guy?”

Khitti allowed the briefest of grins to appear as the phrases 'Odd fellow' and 'Odder sword' leave Brand's mouth. Lionel certainly was a character and she agreed with it whole-heartedly. "I do. Well, not as much as you'd zhink. But, him and I have met on a few occasions. He's agreed to help Hildegarde as well, oddly enough. Another odd zhing is zhat I seem to have a penchant for finding Catalian men and threatening zhem vith bodily harm." Well, it was really only Dominic/Brand and Lionel, but she might as well start keeping a list. Finding a bit of humor in the situation, she muses again, her right hand lifting to tap her chin with her index finger. "And if zhat vasn't odd enough, zhey also seem to pry me out of trouble's unfortunate grasp." She studies the fire a moment, then casts a side glance over to Brand.

Dominic || Brand snorted out something that vaguely passed as a laugh. “The kid’s given me a lot of practice on that last one.” He never, or rarely, seemed to use Dominic’s name. It was probably simple enough to figure out via context, anyway. “And no, Hildegarde is no coincidence. He was the first to mention her to us, though not with much detail.” He looked into that fire as well. “It’ll be good. Kid’s gotta learn not to be so damned weak.” It was said less like a judgment on Dominic’s character and more like a statement of fact.

Khitti managed to make the gruff man laugh? Sort of? Score one for the Khat-girl. Also, never refer to her as Khat-girl. That would end up badly. "I see. As for 'zhe kid' as you like to call him..." She did notice that, and while it irritated her a little, she chose to just shift to sarcasm on the matter. "...I don't zhink he's veak. Ve've all got our own strengths and veaknesses. Yours is clearly to rescue fair maidens from zheir own stupidity and get zhem to a healer. And perhaps be a bit of a jerk at times." She couldn't resist getting a bit of a jab in. "Dominic, on zhe other hand, is kind and clearly cares for others." This was made apparent to her when she was given their secret. Dominic ~hadn't~ abandoned her. "His true strengths vill show up vhen zhey're needed." Now, if only Khitti would listen to her own words of wisdom.

Dominic || Brand only smirked at the jab. “My pleasure.” The rest of her words were taken into consideration, though not for long. Brand rose and turned to look out the window, hands clasped behind his back, assorted scars plainly visible on his upper arms and a pale ring of skin on the left wrist. He squinted, not that there was much to see out there. Faint starlight and a nearly full moon cast a dim glow on the trees outside this small home, but that light didn’t filter all the way down through the branches and leaves. “He has strengths, yes. But all the kindness in the world doesn’t matter if it gets you killed.” He pivoted at the neck, glancing sidelong back at Khitti. “And he panics and shuts down in combat. That’s just -askin’- to die.”

Khitti provided another grin for Brand as he smirked, but it's soon sent away in favor of a disdainful frown when he's giving her his two cents on the subject of what he views as Dominic's cowardice. She gives a shake of her redhaired head, pulling her hands up in the air as she shrugs, "Look. Not everyone is meant to be right up in zhe thick of zhings. It's clear you both have some sort of magical ability. I saw it zhe night I met him. Zhe shadow. And I felt it just now vith you and zhe fire place. Maybe he shouldn't be focusing on using brute strength. Hell, I'm an immortal. I have all of zhose nice vampiric perks, but I know full vell zhat I don't belong in zhe middle of zhe fray. My place is behind zhe others, supporting zhem. Vhether it's vith my archery or my own magic." Her tone takes a bit of a serious tone, "Zhere is a place for everyone. You have yours and he has his. You shouldn't be so hard on him just because his place isn't yours."

Dominic || Brand wheeled fully back around to face her, one eyebrow raised. “And who do you think is the one flowing into those shadows?” With -that- tone, the question was rhetorical. It was clear Brand was talking about himself. He shifted his weight to rest primarily on one leg and crossed his arms again. “I’m not bein’ hard on him. They’re just facts. And credit to him for pushing himself to learn, but … kid’s got a long way to go still.” Another dry chuckle. “He hurled three times last time he killed someone, and even that I’m not sure counted, given that it was via shadow. -Three-. And he got lucky that no one took advantage of him being indisposed for that time. You think anyone’s gonna just stop on the battlefield and politely wait for him to recover?” He seemed agitated, now. “No. Clearly he has ability, we don’t disagree there. But he doesn’t know how to gorram use it. And in the meantime,” he sighed, finishing with a sarcastic, “Brand to the rescue. Again.”

Khitti only became more agitated as the conversation went on. "-No one- should be fine vith killing. -No one.-" Such an odd thing to come from a vampire and she almost seemed offended for Dominic. And maybe even a bit for herself. Despite all the things she's had to do, killing the living was never something she wanted to do. Hell, she still hasn't even had a fresh drop of blood from a victim. She falls silent, eyeing him before looking away again in silence. While she could understand where Brand was coming from, and the frustration it might bring, she still undeniably felt bad for Dominic. It really wasn't his fault at all. After a short time of lingering, and likely awkward quiet between the two, she breathes a heavy sigh, "Instead of scolding and berating him all zhe time, try to actually support him. It doesn't have to be all zhe time and I can tell it's not really you're zhing, but for better or for vorse, you two are stuck together. Just like Amarrah and me. You might as vell try to aide zhings instead of hinder zhem. He'll never grow and find his own path if you don't. In zhe long run, you two are all you've got."

Dominic || Brand went quiet. Very quiet. But unlike Dominic’s awkward, introverted kind of quiet, this was a looming, deadly silence. He strode up to Khitti, quickly closing the gap between them and towering over her with a smouldering in his eyes. His hands had fallen, in fists, to his sides. When he spoke, it was slowly and just above a whisper, careful enunciation of every word. “Don’t. Speak. Like you know the first goddamn thing about him. About me. About how we work together, or don’t work together. Just because there are a few commonalities, doesn’t mean you know anything. You cannot. -Possibly.- Begin to understand everything I’ve done for him. Everything I continue to do for him, even when he fights me the whole way. And everything I’ll keep doing for him until maybe, one day, I’m not needed.” He paused, nostrils flaring. “And you cannot -fathom- what it’s like to keep doing all that, despite knowing that success most likely means you cease to exist. You. Know. -Nothing.-” He stood there a moment longer, mouth in a scowl and eyes dancing across her face, then pivoted and stalked out the door and towards the exit.

Khitti :: There were only two people that could get Khitti to shut up like she had during Brand's speech. Daermon and well...Brand. He was right. She -didn't- know anything of what had happened before she met them, but she had her own experiences with Amarrah. Amarrah was...essentially the Brand of their relationship and now, though it had been times in the past, been pointed out to her just how many times that shadow creature managed to save her life. She actually doesn't say anything. Nothing. Nada. Zip. It's a weird feeling to have. To be the one to emphathize more with Dominic than Brand. She could feel Amarrah swirling around in the back of her mind, knew she could hear what was being said. So, she let him go. Just like that. What else was there for her to say? Once again, her mouth got her in trouble, no matter how much she was trying to help things. She'd likely stay there for some time, resting as she needed, before heading back to Xalious in order to find her friends.