Morning call

[Drake]

There was only a suggestion of sunlight to lighten the sky at this time of the morning, and the village was still deep in groggy shadows. A lone figure moved, barely more substantial than the shadows around him. He was not a stranger to moving through the darkness, it was a welcome friend for him.
He paused, looking up to make sure he had the right street, then turned to a row of houses.
It was too easy to break in, to muffle the snap of the rusted and weak lock on the window and to push the thick glass open just enough to allow himself admittance. It was quite appalling the safety of these places.
He landed gently on the balls of his feet on the stone floor, making near to no noise. He drifted across the room, his eyes sharp in the bad light. There was nothing in here that was of interest. Moving through to the next room, Drake could hear the gentle breathing of someone sleeping. He moved towards the bed, but stopped. By his feet a dark lump shifted and raised a pointed, canine head. Drake was no fan of dogs, and immediately had to curb the desire to dispatch it. But the dog, recognising him, settled back down with a yawn. Fantastic guard dog.
Drake stepped around the mutt and continued to the bedside. He leant over, making sure it was her. Yes, it looked like her, although without those mismatched eyes open to confirm it, he just had to make a good guess.
He frowned. She was sleeping. Huh. Drake stood up and sighed impatiently. He wanted her to be awake. He considered poking her until she awoke, but he didn't want to risk her screaming and/or her mutt thinking he was attacking the girl.
He turned away and drifted about the room, with little curiosity he picked up and sniffed a few herb pots. Healing stuff he guessed, and of little interest to him at the moment, he was in full health. He opened a draw and sifted through the garments within, having no understanding of social barriers. But there was nothing in here that piqued his interest, no secrets he could use, only clothes.

[Zuleika]

Culture may or may not have dictated women could not really live on their own but... Zuleika did not quite fit into the culture, now did she? Hah! Money seemed to get people places and fortunately, the people that lived in the lower part of the house, if given money, seemed quite content to hang up cultural rules. Yet, she couldn't blame them. Money was becoming tight in Dal'ib in recent days. It was... in some ways, an irritation and in other... perhaps for the best. Thieves would not be as rampant (lies) and people would be less prone to inflate the prices of goods but, these things didn't concern her really. Twas a place she came to every so often, to stay, to sleep, else she was with that foolish healing mage Jared in that tiresome estate. If not for one reason, it was certainly another! But, these were besides the points.

Sleeping mat and gnarled old wooden drawer set in one room, empty room the next, the third barely holding anything either but more clay pots here or there, it was quite the fashionable little place! (-snort-) If, you were a healer. But, she did not sleep here all the time. Other times, she was elsewhere, didn't matter really.

However, the particular bastard in question who had just broken into the apartment had the tendency to know where she was. Such a scary hound he was in comparison to her own that had finally decided Drake was no threat. Pshaw! The second hound was missing altogether, having strayed off elsewhere possibly for food. Wasn't Zuleika ever safe from this fellow? No, no it would seem not. The faint sounds arising from near her caused her to simply furrow her eyebrows in her sleep, her bare arms clutching the small feather stuffed pillow tighter still. When Drake moved off, her brows furrowed further and a frown formed on her face, as if she was dreaming but the truth was... she was not dreaming.

She was listening. Wound tighter than a metal cord, her senses straining, she tried to make sense of the intruder in the room. The presence had neared... if not drifted away to do... what? Moments passed and her head shifted slightly, the faint sound of a drawer being opened. It was then her eyes were forced open and they shifted in the direction of where the noises were coming from.

Uh, who was messing with her spare clothes and uhhhh, why? The sudden thought of clothes made her eyes dart toward the end of the sleeping mat, thus recalling the clothes she had cast aside the night prior. It immediately caused her to jerk the sheet and blanket around her higher, her heart thundering in her chest. Ahahaha, there was a slight problem, wasn't there?

Shit. Still, why had not Sahib alerted her? She could sense him in the room, laying down but... otherwise...

"There are a few silver pieces in the clay pot in the corner, otherwise, there is nothing else." The words were spoken in cautious aknatari, the voice trying to fight the slurred feeling of emotion. How early was it, and seriously, who the hell got past the hound to get into her quarters?

[Drake]

Drake paused as he heard her breathing change from deep and slow to shallower and faster, as she woke up. He turned to look at her as she pulled her bedsheets tighter about herself. Pfft, he was sure it was nothing he hadn't seen before. Drake tilted his head as she spoke in Aknatari in a voice that was either fearful or tired. As he suspected the girl lacked enough sense to be fearful, he concluded she was just sleepy.
"Good, you're awake."
He responded in the same tongue. Even though he looked like the lowest commoner in his scruffy garbs, Drake was fluent and literate in several languages. If ever asked, he's argue that it was merely a useful tool that allowed his to work anywhere on the continent and decipher messages when neccesary; rather than admitting that once upon a time he had a good education.
Drake frowned as he finally noted what she had actually said.
"I don't want your money."
He grunted, switching back to the common tongue easily. Why the hell did she think he wanted- ah, of course, she was blind. He huffed that he should have to remind her who he was every time they met now, because she couldn't assess on sight.
He closed the last draw he'd been nosing through.
"It's Drake. Look, you're gonna help me get into the Duke's residence."
He said, getting straight to the point, not one for small talk, even if he had just broken into a girl's bedroom, and that girl was in a disadvantaged position. But in Drake's point of view that was the best place to have this piece of trouble.

[Zuleika]

With sheets and light cover in hands that were up to her neck, she found herself struggling to peer through the blackness and shadow that was actually caused by the lingering night and yet, still distant morning. Morning was... what, in the desert? Shite, it was early! Ugh! Why had Drake returned, and why, of all people, to her? She was a stubborn, unwilling, ill-spirited type of woman who Drake had come to know and see underneath her veil of patience and fortitude! Yet, only with Drake this seemed to be! Irritating (actually amusing), wasn't it?

In sudden realization or rather, revelation of whom the stranger was that had broken into her quarters, a shadow seemed to pass over Zuleika's face and she jerked up entirely, sleepy or not. Had he forgotten the last endearing conversation they had? Or was he really that bullheaded himself to belie- no. Something was not right. What was it he wanted? And as if on cue seconds later, he spoke the reason as to why he was there.

All right, time to wake up Zuleika! Yes, by his fluent use of the native dialect, one could tell she was become awake quite fast! Pshaw! He wanted into the Duke's residence and instead of asking her if she wanted to help, he was expecting her to help! Ahahahahahahahaaaaahaaaa.

Oh angels, what was he up to now? Was he still going after the Duke? Or did he intend to find work? What was his reasonings, what was his moti-

"What happened to you burning in hell, Drake?"

Or she could just say that while struggling to rise off the sleeping mat in said sheets! Whatever worked best really, it seemed.

[Drake]

Drake crossed his arms over his chest and stood there impatiently, waiting for the girl to gain her senses and be useful. He saw her expression change immediately from fearful to pissed off as she worked out who her visitor was.
It worried Drake sometimes how certain people felt able to be rude and aggressive towards him - more than they would towards others - and yet he was possibly the most dangerous person in their life. Although when it came to Zuleika, maybe Drake was positively tame compared to her father. Or maybe The Butcher had passed on some dark genes.
Drake kept watching the girl as she struggled to untwist her bedsheets, still managing to spit an insult at him. If he were a gentleman, he might consider helping her up. Oh well.
He shrugged at her words. He remembered her saying something similar the last time they'd met in the village. That she'd rather watch him burn in hell than help him. It was an obstacle, of course. But Drake had had time to assess his options, and (Zuleika's temper and curses aside) this was the best route to take. His actual reason for wanting to make a suicidal mission inside the Duke's house was not one he was willing to share yet. He would just insist that he needed to be there.
"Not yet."
He replied with a crooked smile. He didn't know how much leniency there would be in the afterlife for a man that was paid to kill others. But Drake was going to cautionly believe that he had enough debts of sin against him to send him straight downwards when the time came.
"Get dressed."
He said, meaning it as a suggestion, not quite sure how to politely ask another person to get ready and give him a chance.

[Zuleika]

Bedsheets and blankets, with all their twists and turns, could not be undone as she partway stood up and, suddenly remembering her position, found herself falling back down in a not so graceful crash on her rear. Thankfully, the sleeping mat was there, somewhat padding her clumsy, if not bewildered attempts to rise. Fingers tightened around the sheets and closing her eyes, she could not help but count backwards from ten.

Ten... nine... eight... seven...
'Get dressed.'

Well gee assassino! Was that meant to be a suggestion? Er, well it was a nice suggestion none the less! With clothes laying at the end of the sleeping mat from the day before, she could easily get dressed but... wait, why was she getting dressed?

Oh. To help him gain entrance into the residence. But... why was that...

Her head tilted slightly and, for a brief moment, suspicion crossed her features before she, with purposeful movement, reached for the heavy blanket that had pushed down to her lap. With a swift jerk of fabric, she pulled it up and intentionally laid back down on her side, ignoring him.

six... five... four... three...
On a random, earlier note! Perhaps... just perhaps.... had she not been blind, she would have caught Drake's smile. And had she... she would have immediately gotten dressed. Since she did not...

Meh, she could still sleep!
...two... one.
"Not yet," came Zuleika's muffled, sleepy reply as she sought to curl back into the blankets, intent on remaining there.
Pfffft. Smartass!

[Drake]

Drake watched her pathetic attempt at getting herself out of her sheets. Drake crossed his arms as he waited impatiently for the girl to do as she was told. But then he remembered who he was dealing with, and he knew that it was too much to hope that this could go smoothly.
He watched as the girl tilted her head and looked like she was doing some difficult thinking. Although any thinking at this time in the morning would be difficult. For any normal person anyway.
He sighed as purposefully lay back down and drag the covers over her head like a petulant child. 'Not yet,' he heard her muffled words.
Drake grit his teeth, he didn't know what this girl's morning routine was, he hadn't known if she was an early riser, hence his very early morning visit. All he had to go on for female behaviour was the fact that he had witnessed Cora get up before dawn every day to get the furnaces going, ready for the working day ahead. Huh, this girl was positively lazy in comparison.
Drake, resigned to the fact that this wasn't going anywhere fast, moved over to the window and flicked the curtain back an inch to get a glance of the grey world outside. It must be past five o'clock already, surely the girl must be ready to get up.
He could see a figure standing still in the cool morning further down the road, looking vaguely in the direction of the house. Drake frowned, he was pretty sure he hadn't any followers. But remembering the man in the marketplace the other day, he assumed that there must be a watch on the witch. He let go of the curtan and moved away from the window, confident the spy couldn't have seen him looking through the gap.
"Why are you being followed?"
Drake asked, ignoring the fact the girl was trying to sleep, his normal frown accompanying his rough words.

[Zuleika]

The sheets and blankets were warm beyond belief and honestly speaking, there was no way Zuleika was going to crawl out from underneath them to find herself in frigid clothing for quite some time! Even if summer in Aknatari was... insanely... hot during the day. The late nights and early mornings were still as nippy as ever. And besides, she was comfortable where she was! Wasn't that a good though?

Sure, she could be called lazy but... after weeks, even months of never truly having any solid, long-term employment, one could not help but become lazy. She made enough coin to feed herself and if she did not, the lazy canine in the corner of the room, did so for her. Er... hunting that is. It may be harder to feed ones self here in Dal'ib but... oddly being at the Duke's residence from time to time offered with it some perks! Meals to actually fill a stomach entirely! An actual warm bath! And! And!

...All right, so the perks weren't that great. She still meandered off from the place, preferring the apartment and silence of the neighborhood beyond the stares and whispers of servants and soldiers alike. A sudden question rose into the air, voiced by the assassin that it caused Zul to slightly push up the covers to peer into the darkness and shadows of the room.

"I 'ave no desire to remain in the confines of that stifling wood-paneled house." The woman could not help but slur and utter as she finally poked her head and beyond frazzled, tangled hair out from underneath the blanket.

"Would you leave a murdering mage unattended and unaccounted for?" A question for a question it was, in spite of the fact her question was very bitter and oh-so-obvious hinting at a notion that, Drake was possibly approaching a sore subject, presumably being that of dear goo'ol' father.

[Drake]

Drake walked away from her to the other side of the room. The room was pretty sparse, no comfort for guests obviously. Maybe the little witch never had guests.
Drake perched against the chest of drawers, folding his arms and settling to wait for her to get her arse in gear.
"To remain..."
He repeated, utterly confused.
"You were to live there?"
He asked, trying to make sense of the scenario. Drake was aware that Zuleika had been the mage to fight against the invaders. But that would make her a prisoner, if they knew that she was the culprit. She would not have the right to come and go and live where she wished.
Unless they did not know; or did not care. Then what use or attachment might she have in the big old house?
Drake had already questioned her without success about her contacts in the Duke's residence, and he doubted that she would be much more willing now to spill. Unless her half-sleeping self was more open with secrets.
Drake missed the bitterness and hints that filled her question - he had no skill in reading emotions and feelings.
"You gonna tell me who you meet in that house?"
He growled, his words more of a demand than a civil question. He'd probably work it out for himself, given enough time, but he didn't want to walk into the house not knowing. He figured that it had to be someone important in the Duke's council. But what did an important lord want with this scruffbag?

[Zuleika]

Zuleika had the tendency to confuse people, especially in the midst of being sleepy! Still, she struggling to articulate her words and for the lack of better phrasing, the narrator was just too damn lazy to fudge with the 'speech slurs' that the poor girl was letting out from time to time!

With her head completely uncovered from underneath the one sheet once again, the woman was contemplating placing her head underneath the thin, fragile pillow that she used as a means of padding from the flat, roughened surface of the woven sleeping mat. It seemed like she was about to do so when the sudden, repetitive (yet broken) statement in regards to her recent answer made her go physicall still.

Even her breath had ceased momentarily, causing her to pause as she tried to think over the words she had just said in conjunction with his own. Eh... it wouldn't be smart to lie now was it? Er... If she responded though, it only meant Drake would be expecting her to wake up. If she ignored him however... she would've been answering his questions. In spite of being silent... it would've still been considered an answer, knowing this man. Or... she might've been wrong but... at that second, she did not precisely care.

She had already told Drake no, once. No... correction. Twice! And yet, did he listen? Apparently not! But, these were besides the current facts because Drake was once again in her room, using those skills (annoying at that) of his to sneak past those people who were stuck watching some twit of a girl.

Half a minute would've passed before she rolled on her side, impatient before she stated through grit teeth, articulating wearily, but carefully. "I refused," Zuleika said, albeit still through clenched teeth as she contemplated violently throwing her small pillow in the direction of where she was hearing his voice.

Jared, the mage she was currently working with, had requested her to live there so he could freely come and go via checking up on her and even though she was tempted to do so, she felt the need to distance herself for reasons best left unsaid or rather, feelings felt. Bah, if anyone thought it was warmth and fuzziness, they were sorely mistaken. It was simple downright confusion that left her questioning whether or not she was doing the right thing.
Yet, besides all this, she was...... quite frustrated.

"Non assassino."

And... that was when she uneasily leaned back up, slower this time to settle herself on her knees as she tightened the tangled sheets around her. Stubbornly staring ahead at nothing and yet... everything within the confines of her mind, it was a deep breath of air she suddenly drew in before she flatly replied.

"Hand over your knives, temporarily, I will help you gain entrance into the residence."

Ahahahahahaaaaaa! Bad Zuleika, bad! Sleepy or not! She had enough time to think over his original reasoning as to why he was there from a few minutes earlier!

[Drake]

Drake frowned. For the life of him he couldn't remember Zuleika telling him that she was asked to live in the Duke's house. Although he dismissed what most people said as being trivial and nonsense, he remembered every word, just in case. Unless he was starting to lose his touch.
He wondered who this little mouse could be visiting in the house, and why. It wasn't likely to be a lover - otherwise he would be here, or she would be there, because wasn't this the time when lovers were together. So it was most probably someone who had seen promise in this witch. Drake wondered who the person was and what they had done to actually turn Zuleika from being an enemy, loyal to Aknatar; to someone actually open-minded.
The assassin froze as the girl requested... requested his knives? Drake thought he could humour her, and hand over the knife in his belt. But he immediately dismissed the idea, Zuleika knew that beneath his loose shirt was a leather vest containing an array of knives, she was one of the few people that had actually seen it. She wouldn't be satisfied with just one blade.
But the vest was a part of Drake. He rarely removed it. She might as well have asked for him to chop off an arm or leg. Drake's hand drifted to his torso, to feel the familiar bulk.
"Never."
Oh he could fight, and kill barehanded, but he wasn't about to sacrifice his main defense and weapon.
Drake's eyes narrowed further, as he grew more suspicious. Zuleika was willing to take him inside as long as he was unarmed...
"Who the hell are you trying to protect?"
Drake spoke his final thought aloud.

[Zuleika]

Why oh why did she even bother to rise enough to her knees in expectation (or hope, perhaps hope was the better word to be put to usage here), believing he would relent to her demand! Had she forgotten entirely that this was Drake she was speaking to? Hah! A person had to chalk it up to her still being sleepy, having yet to fully realize there was a strange man inside of her quarters, perched up against her dresser.

One also had to realize, she was used to having men around her, oddly enough. Fostered with three brothers, there was just some things that hardly fazed her, but then again... she had spent much of her time outside of Aknatar over the past year dealing with those of her same gender, as well as those of the opposite. There... really wasn't much hope for the lower-class population residing in Tetel'ac, was there? Mmmnnn, not really.

Lips moved, but no sound came from them in response to his refusal as she tried to force herself awake. Perhaps it was time for her to get up, to move, and get the hell dressed! If... Drake wasn't blocking her dresse- all right, so it looked more like an aged, gnarled container, that had obviously seen better days, than a dresser, but at least it did the job! Not that she would know that! (Er, meaning Drake was up against the dresser.)

A foot, cold and hardly working, slid underneath her and she sought to awkwardly rise, clinging to her bedding once again to start towards that dresser; however, she stopped the moment Drake voiced a question she did not expect to hear from him. Surprised and caught off guard, she immediately went rigid, staring straight ahead. Was she that obvious? Or... er...

The sudden realization that this man was far more intelligent than he appeared, or rather passed himself off as, made her quickly come to that halt, slanted eyes of her own narrowing to slits as she tried not to let something smart in response, slip out of her mouth. Ghosts, she nearly said. Demons, she nearly said also. Thankfully, she did not.

With a subtle shake of her head from side to side, she started forward again, intent on just reaching out to grab towards the top drawer and yank it open. Whether or not Drake moved, was his own problem but in the midst of her actions she would've suddenly voiced, in a tone filled with warning, "...If you desire for me to call the guard in the midst of clobbering your hide, continue your antics assassino. I saved your hide once, you do not give a good enough reason as to why I should do so, again."

[Drake]

Intelligence wasn't something Drake boasted about. In fact, he rarely boasted - that required being around people to boast to, and having an over-inflated ego. Quite logically Drake assessed his pros and cons. It just so happened that he could piece together a picture quickly, it was often part of his job.
Drake watched as the girl got herself clumsily to her feet, still clinging to the blankets and pulling them tightly around her. To be honest, there was nothing else to catch his attention, so his eyes followed her out of sheer boredom.
Drake crossed his arms protectively across his chest as she shuffled in his direction, almost worried that she might actually try to pull his precious vest off him. The girl was just about crazy enough to give it a go.
But he seemed to not be her aim, as she reached out to try and open the draw that was being firmly held in place by Drake's backside. Drake figured out what she wanted and was about to move from his perch, before the girl spoke warningly to him. About clobbering him.
In the space it took to exhale, Drake had acted instinctively, one hand catching that outstretched hand upon the drawer, he twisted her arm behind her back, pinning her in place. His spare hand snatched up the knife from his belt and it found a home delicately pressed against the skin of her throat.
"Do not threaten me, Zu."
He growled in her ear, holding her there for a moment more to prove his point, then he let her go, striding away from the dresser, and from her.
It was true that she was not the same quaking and weak girl he had met a year or so ago. Even though Drake cared little for the cause or the details, he'd witnessed her become something stronger, more defined.
But she needed to remember who she was bloody well dealing with. He was not tame, and she had only glimpsed what he could do. He felt a wave of anger that she should dare think she could threaten him.
He sighed, trying to rein in the brief flash of emotion, he returned the knife to his belt before he was tempted to use it.
"Get dressed."
He repeated his request.

[Zuleika]

Too much happened at once. The moment she was voicing her irritation to him, a warning of sorts, he was reaching out to take a hold of her wrist, unforgivably so and she cringed immediately, the arm having yet to completely heal from the inside. The ache in her strained shoulder blade was enough to cause her to grunt in her throat in pain and she stilled immediately. If it did not make matters worse, the sudden feeling of sharp steel against her throat was what did it. Breath caught in her throat, she froze entirely, her unseeing eyes shifting upward as her head tilted up, trying to get away from the near-sickening sensation. What seemed like eternity was only a moment, really. The instant these actions took place, the sighthound was immediately rising off the floor, taking advantage of this turn of events to bolt out of the room into an adjacent one and, finding the stairs, shoot down them intent on getting to the outside of the building.

But, that was another matter entirely.

'Do not threaten me, Zu,' Drake stated, rather closely to her ear, causing her to turn her head away as she tried to keep the front of her sheets up to cover her upper body with her one free arm. Twas the only thing that kept her from reaching up to take a hold of that blade to give him a sudden, bitter repeat of the past of an event that had occurred not so long ago between them.

Something also on the dresser, small and white in color had also tipped over in the moment Drake moved away from it, seeking to a hold of the woman that it, oddly enough, had caught her attention. Tiny and carved it was, resembling that of a horse that could be held in a single palm. Gritting her teeth, she - in the moment he chose to let go of her - was moving toward the dresser and to the side of it, seeking to immediately reach out upon the top to grip the object. The sheets were forgotten, sliding somewhat down as she tried to get a hold of herself, her anger even in that split second.

He was right though, about one thing. She shouldn't have threatened him and although tears stung at the corners of her eyes, the fact her shoulders were rigid told another story, a story that would've busted into reality the moment Drake was putting away his knife in the belt.

Why threaten him, when she was fully capable of not giving warnings at all?

The request he spoke, would've fallen on deaf ears, either way.

The set of large clay pots in the right corner behind him would've suddenly and loudly shattered without warning, spilling its herbal contents and oils. In the near precise moment those had, the rattling dresser drawers on the dresser beside Zuleika were seeking to jerk out of the main part of the dresser with a shattering vengeance, forcefully being thrown without mercy or whim in the direction of where Drake's voice would've come from. For once, the projectiles were accurate and also, it had to be asked, since there were three dresser drawers, was Drake capable of dodging all three? And if by chance the dresser itself would've flung itself up on its own accord and in his direction?

Perhaps it was... a bit much... but... maybe points needed to be made, lines redefined... who knew?

Ahahahahaha, oe. She was going to die, wasn't she?

Maybe, but not if she sent the poor assassino out the window first.

[Drake]

Drake moved away from her to give them both a little space - they did tend to wind one another up. He couldn't understand how she could so frequently storm at him, how she dared to push him when she knew what he could do.
He felt slightly guilty whenever he lost his temper with her, it was wrong to take it out on a girl, and a blind one at that. Drake often felt guilty whenever he hurt someone innocent, whether it was through his stupidity or theirs. He always did his best to control his temper and often seemed a calm man... because he was scared of what he might do if he lost control.
But the guilt was quickly appeased when he turned back to Zuleika, only to see shards of clay pot flying towards him. He lifted his arms to block them, but found himself covered in splashes of oil. He swore violently in Targan. But had no time before a wooden draw flew out, casting clothes as it went, and flying in his direction. He stumbled back and barely missed it, then ducked to miss the second. The third caught him on the thigh and made him grunt in pain.
Drake was already moving towards Zuleika. He knew enough about magic to know that it was pointless fighting off the objects that came at him; he had to get the source, it was the only way to survive. Something he'd been lucky enough to learn.
He could see the dresser shaking and starting to raise. Drake grabbed Zuleika by both upper arms and shook her violently.
"Are you finished?"
He hissed.
His mind half turned to the state of the room, to the noise and mess that had occurred. Shit. He prayed that the spy outside hadn't heard anything. But he would sort out that problem next. First he had to secure this unstable witch. Bah, he half-wished he'd dispatched her when he had a knife to her throat.
"Are you insane?"