exsiliumlogs | Letters to God

Entry tags:

Letters to God

Date & Time: 5/9, 7PM-ish until PROBABLY LATE
Location: A BAR
Characters: Ashraf and Thass AND BARIYAN gets his own thread
Summary: Stop me if you've heard this one. Two undead guys and a priest walk into a bar... DRINKS. TALKIN ABOUT THE LIGHT AND PEOPLE AND STUFF. BARIYAN AND THASS ARE GONNA HUG IT OUT maybe idk man don't look at me like that
Warnings: Mentions of death? I dunno!

[He made an effort to be punctual- to be honest, he liked having a schedule. He didn't like having nothing to do, his mind rarely wandered kind places, and not having a mission was unfamiliar. Even during the time between the Lich King's fall and his assignment to Andorhal, he could fill his days thinning the ranks of the undead that infested the Plaguelands.

But now...he didn't even have that.

Instead, he was turning his mind to the project of his farm. Though he had no intent of growing anything- if anything living could be grown by these hands, he added, bitterly- it was good to have a project. He had every intent of going back there, today, but Asraf's request to meet in the evening had given him an excuse to spend more time around the city.

So here he was, sitting in the same bar that he had met Bariyan, and ordering an ale for himself as he sat at the bar in his new clothes and with his swords sheathed on his back.]

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[Clink.]

And you have mine. Let me know if you ever need anything, Ashraf.

[ He considers something eloquent, but, yeah, that alcohol. So instead: ] Ditto.

[ Chyeah. He's smooth. He helps himself to more to drink as the evening wears on; he hadn't really intended to make it a night of drinking, but, well, he's here, it's good company... there seems to be no reason not to. Too bad about how a living man can't hope to keep up to a dead man. His mood gets progressively brighter (and less coordinated) as the night wears on, until he's basically just leaning on Thassarian. Standing up straight as they leave sounds like way more effort than it's worth, really. ]

It's really dark. [ An astute remark, thank you, Ashraf. ] How long was... what time is it?

[He's a little tingly, but that's about it. Oh well. At least one of them will manage to stay on their feet the way home.

What time was it? He wasn't sure. It had been a night, that was for certain. He wraps an arm around Ashraf to help him, taking one of his arms and draping it around his shoulder. There. It would be a little slow, but that should work.]

Quite late, Ashraf. But it seems like you enjoyed yourself.

Hm. [ He looks thoughtful, like he's going to say something else, but all that comes out is— ] Ruwach.

[ A bright blue light sparks to life at his side, and immediately takes to spinning a whirling circle around the two of them. It does at least a decent job of lighting the way around them, and he smiles fondly at it. ]

I did! Thank you. Did you?

I did. It's been some time since I've spent a night out and had company.

[Years, actually, not since he was alive. It doesn't bring bitterness, this time. He could still remember drinking with the other soldiers, their voices filling the tavern as they sang drinking songs they had learned from the Dwarves, to the south.

He watches the light circle them with interest. That was certainly something new.]

That's Exsilium for you! All sorts of — drinking. Not drinking, I mean, but people. [ ashraf what are you even saying. he tries again. ] There's good company here.

[ Okay that sounds better. A little closer to what he'd meant, at least. He laughs at himself, dropping his head to be sure both feet are ending up in the proper places to keep him moving. ]

I'm sorry. I should probably be embarrassed for myself.

Nothing to be embarrassed for. There does seem to be very good company here. And you're not wrong about the drinking, either.

[A slight smirk, and he gives Ashraf's hand on his shoulder a pat. He's taken off his gloves by now, and his hands might be, well, cold as always. Sorry, dude.]

[ That hand is totally cold. And Ashraf? Totally doesn't mind. He's too busy gesturing with the other, trying to work out what he's trying to say. ]

It's... we're all together, right? In this, I mean. It doesn't matter what world we're from, because we're here, and we have a chance to work together on this world. The things we can do! [ He pauses, wonders suddenly if he's making any sense, and glances searchingly over. ] Right?

[He chuckles, nodding and shaking his head slightly. He understands the sentiment, at least. He'd have been in much the same position, were he still alive.]

Something like that.

Something like that, yeah.

[ Is his point made? Maybe. But more importantly, he thinks he's probably babbling, and should change the subject. He's not sure to what, but... but a glance has turned into a stare, and there's a small smile in place. ]

I told Koltira once that his eyes were creepy. [ Did he phrase it like that? He can't remember. That had been the sentiment, at least. ] And it was hard to tell where he was looking. Do you know what he did? He stared at me.

That sounds like him.

[He looks over at Ashraf, and meets his eyes for a moment. Were his like that? He wasn't sure. Perhaps they were, too. Creepy? ...perhaps. Only a handful had mentioned it, but he did try to keep himself to using text communication where he could. His eyes, his voice, they spoke that he was something other.

He looks back down at the sidewalk.]

[ He frowns when Thassarian looks away. That hadn't been the point of that story, it was supposed to be amusing. He stops walking, standing straight, and leaving Thass to stop as well, or — well, or bowl him over, realistically. ]

I like it, though.

[With that, he does turn to look back at him, a bit surprised. He furrows his brows slightly.]

You do?

Yeah. [ He smiles widely, about to add more — which is when his ruwach spell fizzles out and leaves them in the dark. His smile turns into a frown, a disappointed— ] Oh.

[ Which is also when footsteps sound from both ends of the block they're on. It's late enough and far enough from the Housing that two men alone look like decent targets to the more desperate part of the populace, apparently. For his part, Ashraf seems oblivious, distracted by his faded spell. ]

[He was thankful he had his swords on him, but he couldn't unsheathe them with Ashraf's arm across his shoulders, but he hears the footsteps, and can just barely make out dark-clothed figures.

His blood goes gold, his skin more icy to the touch, as he pulls at the endless winter that was under his skin. the rain around him freezes in the air, drifting down in wet almost-snow.

He had really been hoping that nothing would go wrong tonight.]

Keep moving. We'll get you home soon.

[ He might not notice an unobtrusive thing like shifty dudes being shifty, but he definitely notices that cold. It's a little sobering, and he holds out a free hand to catch one of those almost-snows. Whoa. ]

Oh, good, so you aren't leaving me to sleep in the streets...

[ Ruwach is murmured under his breath, and the light springs back into existence — at precisely the right time to illuminate a hard, set face just ahead of them, hovering above the cold metal of a pistol's barrel aimed at them both. Not exactly the newest technology around, but it gets the job done. Ashraf blinks. ]

Oh.

Not toni-

[He stops. Well, he couldn't say he didn't exactly expect it, but still.

He stops, and goes very still, not even moving for the effect of looking alive. He meets the eyes in that face.]

I'll give you a chance to walk away before you make a mistake you'll regret.

[He shrugs Ashraf's arm off of his shoulder. Something dark and deadly practical in him knows it would only be a brief moment to draw a sword and slice the hand off.

But he'll give him a chance.]

[ Ashraf still isn't quite sure what to do with all this, but he's become aware of that second set of footsteps nearing from behind. He glances back over his shoulder to frown in bemusement. The light of his ruwach doesn't quite pick up the second man, but he doesn't doubt this is a two-man act. ]

Thass...

[ It's mumbled, distracted, and the man ahead cocks his gun. "Fucking foreigners." The man spits. "Hand over the marques. Now." ]

[It would be simple to just kill the man, something tells him. He moves slightly, and then.

It's very, very cold. A violent torrent of ice and frozen air around them, pushing them both back and hopefully off of their feet. He draws his swords, looking behind him for a moment, just to see, yes, there's someone else there.

Very well.]

[ Both men fly back, one catching his feet and the other landing in a sprawl, and Ashraf is at Thassarian's side in the next second. ]

Thassarian, sheathe your weapons. [ Any trace of alcohol is gone, and his eyes are locked onto the Death Knight. The muffled cursing behind him goes ignored, as the two struggle to recover themselves. ]

[He eyes Ashraf for a long moment, and then does so, both swords on his back again, but he wasn't fond of the idea.

Never let it be said that he couldn't take an order.

The fight is all the has, sometimes, and it's strange to give that up, but he would do as he was told.

He was, after all, a follower, he thought, almost bitterly remembering someone telling him as much.]

Edited 2013-05-16 05:43 (UTC)

[ The intensity of his gaze on Thassarian eases as his swords disappear, but he doesn't quite smile. ]

Thank you.

[ He steps forward, with even the unsteadiness of his steps gone, one hand outstretched toward the man in front, who has climbed halfway back to his feet with the help of a wall. ]

I'm sorry about that, here, let— [ He's interrupted by a shot, and he stumbles forward a step in surprise as a bullet tears through his side. It's from the man behind, who had found his footing more immediately. Hey, never let it be said muggers don't look out for each other, right? ]

Edited 2013-05-16 05:58 (UTC)

Ashraf!

[He wants to draw his swords, but he can't, and he won't. Instead, he lets the cold seep around him, forcing the warmth out of the very ground.

The rain, the water covering the clothes of the attackers, freezes, and ice forms on top of that. They can breathe, but it's hard to shoot a gun entombed in ice. They won't be going anywhere soon, not with their feet chained to the ground with ice.

At least, Thassarian hopes.

He steps forward, ignoring the screaming and cursing being directed at him by their muggers. He reaches out for the priest, patting his shoulders gingerly.]

Ashraf, are you...are you alright?

[ His eyes had gone wide again at the formation of ice, but — well, that's not so bad. It's not deadly, like he'd first feared. They look immobilized, but unharmed. So he relaxes again, takes a breath, and smiles at Thassarian. ]

I'm fine. [ He waves a hand, and a brief glow of green light around his body heals the wound completely. It doesn't do much for the tear in or blood on his robes, but he'll deal with that later. With a pat for Thassarian's forearm, he steps around him and to the nearest of the frozen men. ]

I'm sorry. My friend will release you soon, I just wanted to talk to you first.

[ Smiling warmly, like he hadn't just been shot by this guy, he steps closer still, lowers his voice, and pretty much just seems to be holding a discussion over here. The responses he gets are low and guttural at first, but subside into grudging mutters, and finally quiet replies. In a few moments Ashraf leaves him and heads to the other man, leaving the first looking confused and uncomfortable, but not hostile. ]

[He folds his arms across his chest, watching Ashraf intently, and, more importantly, watching the two men as he speaks to them in turn.

It was fortunate that Ashraf wasn't seriously hurt, but he understood well enough that his usual, almost instinctual, tactics would have been frowned upon.

He appreciates the living, as much as any Death Knight can. But that didn't change that he was meant to kill, and that he values the lives of those close to him more than those of people who tried to harm them.

But, well, if Ashraf was okay and wanted to forgive, then he couldn't fault him for that.

So he watches, closely, making sure they don't do anything stupid. But if Ashraf wants to go and talk to them, that's fine. He'll just be looming a little.]

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