The streets she walked we're hers, thoughany might disagree. These seedy alleyways and dimly lit corners, the shifting stares belonging to the less than favorable, they were all hers. Vendetta's is a queen among peasants, a good among mortals, and her hand is the hand of Justice and her voice the law.
The unicorn walked like she owned the streets, too. With every step her hooves beat down on the sand, her skirt flowing out behind her like a blood stain against the golden sandstone. Those who knew her or her reputation avoided her eyes and gave her a wide berth. The lucky ones that tried to offer her a hello we're ignored. She was above them all.
Perhaps even more unsettling than her presence alone was that of her bonded, trailing along behind her. Azrail was a shadow of death, tall and gaunt, grim and unnatural. But Vendetta did not have time for their stares or useless pleasantries. No, she had somewhere to be and business to take care of.
Solterra's blackmarket would not run on its own, or if it did, it would not run as smoothly with her at the helm and on her ship everything was run with an iron fist. If they did not bow to her now she would bring them all to their knees eventually. One way or another.
Open to anyone!
12-05-2018, 04:33 PM
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Sparrow [PM] Posts: 15 — Threads: 2 Signos: 10
power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely
A whistle cut through the general hubbub of Solterra’s market streets, playful and coy. “Howdy, V.”
Only the foolish or those looking for a death wish would ever regard the Pearl Mistress so brazenly. Roshan was probably considered both of those. The thief stood amidst the darkened alleys, watching with large, keen brown eyes as the keeper of the black markets stalked by, Azrail in tow. The black beast was never far, and Roshan had gotten used to seeing Vendetta’s shrewd shadow by now. Pushing away from the sandstone wall he had been leaning against, Roshan emerged from the dark alley, all painted earthly colors and ivory tresses, smiling dashingly at the woman so fierce that nearly all of Solterra cowered at her name. The mark of the sun glistened upon his chest; not a tattoo or a painting, but a marking he had been born with.
A creature of monochrome stained with blood, Vendetta was a woman to be feared, but Roshan… Well, he liked her, earnestly and completely, despite the fact that he was fairly certain she only put up with him because of his usefulness to her business. Somehow their partnership worked, even though it was just that; a business relationship. He stole shit and she bought it. It wasn’t like he could sell stolen goods just anywhere, after all. That could get him in trouble, and he very much liked living as a free man.
Atop the young stud’s head, Bandit was perched with his front legs dangling between Roshan’s forward ears, watching the display with leathery wings outstretched. The ferret-dragon also liked Vendetta, and Azrail, but mostly because he was cute and never got to experience the wrath of the Pearl Mistress himself. Lucky little bastard that he was.
Tossing Vendetta a grin and already anticipating that she would not stop to chat with him, Roshan moved to fall into step beside her. Not close enough to touch, of course. He wasn’t that stupid, but he was close enough to sashay beside her in a way that was certain to annoy her. Something about pressing her buttons was entertaining to him, even though he knew she could, and probably someday would, whirl around and rip him apart.
“I have something for you. Got it off of some poor son of a bitch on the roads leading out of town.”
Vendetta didn't need to see who the voice belonged to in order to know its owner. Her shoulders stiffened slightly, drawing her steps into a sharper staccato. Nearby a weasel of a man's eyes widened at the obvious tension before he ducked into an alleyway. That satisfied her immensely.
"Roshan," she said, holding back the exasperation she felt, "How many times have I explicitly told you not to call me that." It was not really a question. The answer was many times, he simply refused to listen to her. More than once she'd thought about how nicely his feathers would look as quills. Roshan was only lucky he was still useful to her.
Eventually her ruby red eyes flickered over him as he fell into step next to her. He was right to think she would not stop for him. Atop his head rested Bandit, and while the furred, dragon-winged beast was not the noblest of creatures, she supposed the pair suited each other. At least Bandit wasn't constantly attempting to test her boundaries.
His next words were the first to catch her attention. "One day you might come across someone who isn't so keen on your stealing from them." Not that it was her problem should that happen. It would be unfortunate to lose a hand, even one as godforsakenly irritating as Roshan. Oh well. "It better be good. What is it?" If he was smart he wouldn't waste her time. Vendetta feared that wasn't the case, however.
power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely
Roshan arched a brow and then shrugged a slender shoulder, offering the spotted woman a cocksure grin with mirthful mahogany eyes. “I don’t know, I really wasn’t listening. But what if I just love to hear the sound of your beautiful voice, V?” Oh, he knew he was digging himself into a deeper grave, but that was a-okay with him. For now, his life was his to keep. For now, he still had his use. Maybe later when he was ready, he would push Vendetta to the point where she procured a pretty little dagger, just for him.
Keeping up with the lethal red rose of the black markets, the painted stud paced himself at a confident traipse, mindful of the distance between them both every step of the way. These seedy alleys and crooked shadows may have belonged to Vendetta, as she was their mistress, but he was their prince. He knew these roads in a feral, wild sort of way, like how a creature needed air to breathe. It was pure instinct and it was natural. He knew these roads and alleys intimately, almost like a lover. Each twist, each turn, each perfect hiding place depending on the time of day or the crest of the moon. He knew, and he used that to his advantage.
Her following words caused him to chuckle, a deep, breathy sound, and Roshan took a moment to lick his teeth in greedy anticipation. “Maybe, but today wasn’t that day. Now… Look at this.” Not even halting in his movements, Roshan dug into a pack at his side with the assistance of his gifted telekinesis. Popping the button, he flipped open the little woven satchel and pulled out his precious find; a diamond necklace, glistening and beautiful. The three precious stones were expertly placed, procured within a silver emblem depicting a moonscape.
Offering it up for Vendetta to see but not take, Roshan gave the woman a coy wink. The diamonds sparkled in the sunlight, creating a cascade of rainbows upon the sand-packed earth beneath their hooves. “I thought of you when I saw it.”
Vendetta did not grace Roshan with her attention, knowing him enough already to be sure that if she did look he would no doubt have that stupid, cocky grin he often wore. Oh, one day she was sure she would get the chance to wipe it right off his face. Today, unfortunately, was not that day.
The unicorn held back a sigh as he spoke, ruby red eyes rolling with every syllable that left his lips. Somehow she found it impossible to shake him, especially when she would have really liked to. Yet he was an almost ever persistent presence, like a fly she could not documentswat away enough times as it still kept buzzing back in her ear. Her ear flicked back crossly, “Then you’d just have to wallow in your longing like everybody else, Roshan,” she said.
Already she could feel him rubbing against her resolve and patience, wearing at the thin barrier that shielded Vendetta from the rest of the world. It’s not that she hated them, necessarily, but so few of them could keep her attention and even less of them were of any worth to her. Roshan, unfortunately for her, was unwavering in his conquest to annoy her, which she more often than not prevented him from actually seeing. Though, no doubt he knew what thin ledge he walked around her.
He laughed and his cocksureness was maybe the only thing she could credit to him. You didn’t do well in this business unless you had a handful of confidence and some to spare. You couldn’t go on a job or a run without a measure of fearlessness in your blood. The weak minded made poor thieves and even worse barterers. Vendetta lacked no confidence, and look where she was? She was the best example these streets had of how to not just survive but conquer.
“Does it now?” she said, glancing over at the piece he dangled just out of her reach. Three diamonds (if they were real), were set within the silver pendant moon danging from a delicate chain. It was indeed quite a fine piece of jewelry, and it glimmered in the light, sun refracting from each facet of the stones. “Because they’re beautiful but tough as nails or because they're out of your league?”
power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely
Unbidden, he laughed.
Oh, he knew that the situation wasn’t funny. Roshan understood very clearly that Vendetta could kill him once his usefulness ran out, probably would, but he was oddly at peace with the idea. Maybe he had developed a bit of a death wish, spurred from years of living this sort of unforgiving, relentless lifestyle. Thieves and low-life’s either made it big or they were gutted and left to die in a dark alley, and the painted stud’s insides were very much where they belonged. He honestly wasn’t sure exactly what to make of that.
Mahogany eyes glittered mischievously as he looked up from the diamond necklace to Vendetta herself, holding her gaze with a brazen cockiness that few men could muster. If one knew him, they could see the look hiding in his eyes. A silent plea, perhaps? One day, V. Just as quick as it was there, however, the look was gone, replaced instead by that mirthful, arrogant warmth.
“Both,” Roshan agreed with another hearty chuckle, shaking his head but taking caution to not knock off Bandit who still lounged happily upon the stallion’s poll, “Definitely both. You could do so much better than me, V.” And he meant it.
Tossing the diamond necklace the short distance between them, he didn’t even worry if Vendetta would catch it. She was nothing if not skilled and efficient. “It’s real. You can check it yourself. I’m not dumb enough to bring you a fake necklace.” Although he did wonder just what she would do if he ever did. Someone had tried, once. Roshan hadn’t seen that poor son of a bitch around the black markets since. He was pretty sure that the fool was in at least five different pieces, scattered around Solterra. A fitting end for a shitty, lackluster thief.
Then, because Roshan really couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut, he went on with a smug grin. “I did see a pretty dagger yesterday. Maybe I’ll try and snag that for you next. I think it would look nice in your collection.” Maybe it would even be the one she would use against him someday.
R oshan was the one presence that Vendetta couldn’t shake, regardless of how she might try. He stuck to her like sand and the smell of sun, a near permanent part of her existence that was, at times, quite annoying. As he chuckled and agreed with her, she felt those little bits of sand dig deeper into her coat, grating against her skin. At least he seemed to understand the difference in their hierarchy, if only somewhat. She couldn’t imagine how he acted around someone who actually tolerated him.
She caught the necklace almost on instinct when Roshan tossed it, holding it securely in her grasp. Idly, she thought it might be worth more if the pendant were turned into something else. Fused into the handle of a weapon? The breastplate of a piece of armor? As a necklace it could easily go missing or be stolen, but reconstituted into something else, it could become a symbol. Vendetta would have to take it to one of the blacksmiths and see what they thought. One of them did owe her a favor.
“If I can say anything about you Roshan it is that you wouldn’t make such a stupid mistake to bring me something not worth a penny,” she said, and it was as much a compliment as the winged man would probably ever receive from her, “I am sure it’s real.” The way the gems refracted the light told her much more than any jeweler would be able to. Roshan, for all his irritating ways, was one of the better thieves the market had, and it was this fact that gave him the miniscule amount of wiggle room he had with her.
The trio turned a corner and Vendetta stopped. She had reached her destination, for the building looming behind her was holding one equine that the unicorn had unfinished business with. “I am incredibly particular about my daggers,” Vendetta said then, glancing at Roshan. No doubt he knew this but did not care. Although her answer was not a solid no, for she was always open to adding to her collection, she also did not want to encourage his behavior.
“Now, I have a deal to make happen,” her voice floated over her shoulder as she was already turned way, climbing a few steps to the door with Azrail close behind. The queen of the blackmarket did not even knock. She simply gripped the handle, turned, and parted the shadows with the swath of her red skirt. “Goodbye, Roshan,” drifted down the stairs just before the door closed behind a disappearing Azrail, leaving the thief alone on the street outside.
power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely
Vendetta’s praise, if one sane person would even call it that, caused Roshan’s grin to brighten a ridiculous amount. He wasn’t exactly what one might call ‘sane’, but that was fine. He appreciated the woman’s words at face value and nothing more, because he was smart enough to know that they were as much of a praise as he would ever get from her. Searching any deeper would leave you bleeding out in a back alley somewhere.
“I’m glad you have that much faith in me,” he preened with a playful wink, rolling his shoulders and puffing out his chest in pride. Sometimes he acted ridiculous just to see how far he could go before Vendetta finally had enough of his bullshit and put him out of his misery. It was a game. A dark one, but a game nonetheless. It was addictive, flooding his veins with adrenaline and excitement in many of the same ways that thieving did.
Following along once silence stole over them, they rounded the corner to a building and halted just before the sandstone steps. Roshan arched a brow, mahogany eyes glancing upwards to the awaiting door, before refocusing his gaze on Vendetta. Her demeanor hadn’t changed, not in the slightest, and she didn’t even spare him a glance with those ruby reds before sashaying up the steps as if she owned the place, her skirt billowing with every step. Hell, she probably did own the place, with how many pies she had her hooves in. Metaphorically, of course. Although that did give him a pleasant image to chuckle at.
“Catch you on the flip-side, V.” The parting was said knowing that Vendetta wouldn’t even be able to hear him, but that was fine. Roshan didn’t particularly mind. Only when the door had shut behind her did the painted thief let out a long breath, feeling his shoulders relax. Mahogany eyes flicked up to focus on as much of Bandit as he could see, the ferret-dragon still lounging atop his head with his front legs sticking out to dangle over the stallion’s eyes.
’You keep that up, and she might actually kill you someday. Then where will I go?’ Bandit’s worried voice echoed in Roshan’s head and he grinned, laughing softly to himself and taking off back down the road. His pace was leisurely and confident, a familiar sashay as he waltzed through the streets. Vendetta claimed they were hers, but he wasn’t so sure. “Maybe V will take you in and make you do tricks on the street corner for coin. Or she’ll kill you too, that way we die together.”
Roshan couldn’t see it, but he could practically feel Bandit’s eyes roll. The ferret-dragon shifted enough to pull on the stallion’s braided mane, and Roshan laughed again, loud, boyish, and proud. The sound nearly drowned out Bandit’s own comment, playfully sullen.
’Stuck with you even in death? Now I know what hell must be like.’
Together, thief and bonded disappeared down the alley, the sound of Roshan’s laughter echoing in their wake.
