A job done, Fuzzy-headed assassin on the move

"Considering the direction of the footprints, he's probably hoping to lose himself in one of the pubs," King replied as he looked up toward the general direction of the now disappearing footprints.

Running through his general knowledge of the area, he frowned as a thought came to mind. "Let's try the most crowded pubs nearby," he said after a pause as he moved to the entrance of one particular pub.

Suddenly in a large mass of bodies, King studied the dark room carefully as he began walking along the walls, avoiding contact with any of the other patrons. His eyes carefully searching out the thief that had been in the office before.

The face was vivid within his mind, and the fact that he'd been able to identify King as a cambion so quickly meant that he knew a thing or two about them. Was he a cambion? Incubus? The thoughts in his head moved at greater and greater speeds before he calmed himself. No matter what stake King had with this man, there was more to it then that.

This man had stolen from the Assassin's guild, and attacked King, he would find this man and get his answers, one way or another.

This post has been edited by Balmung on May 17 2009, 03:45 AM

Floriat happily immersed himself in the busy bubbly nature of the pub. He thought himself safe for a good many moments, though he nevertheless kept a close eye on the door of the pub. Should anyone come in through it he’d notice straight away who, and should it be the silly drunk or the cambion man he’d be on his way quickly. He was both cursing the fact that his current body was on the tall side, it meant he could look over the crowd more easily, it also meant others could see him more easily! For a while longer it seemed he had gotten away with a scare and he sat himself down at the bar, ordering a pint of ale for himself and happily taking up the mug and taking a sip.

He’d move on to the next doctor’s office soon, perhaps even pay the healer’s guild a visit, he might even pretend to have an interest in cambion children. The healers guild were generally speaking a friendly lot, right? In his contemplation Floriat had long since forgotten about his brilliant plan to keep an eye on the door. The next time he brought up the mug of ale he noticed a person sliding past the walls. Oh fuck! He started at the sight of the cambion. He hadn’t been spotted yet his corner of the bar being just far enough away to stay unnoticed. Not for long though, the cambion was surely looking for him.

With a rather sudden movement he abandoned the mug of ale, leaving it wobbling and twirling on the counter before it toppled over with a thump and spilled ale everywhere. By this time Floriat had already shoved his way back into the bustle of people in the pub. Thank the shadows for the place being crowded!

He was sliding between bodies, pressing up against people rather more than he would any other day. He wanted them near him, close to him, anything to help speed up the process of his physical change. Dammit, why did he have no control over these things?! He couldn’t even feel it happening, he didn’t even know if it was working or not. He grabbed one of the women in the crowd regardless of whether she was with someone or not.
“Come here beautiful…” he murmured in a sultry voice and kissed her deeply. This had better work, and please don’t let her husband see this or he’d attract entirely too much attention to himself rather than divert it.

For a few moments Dylan contented himself with trudging after King, following the other man into a busy bar, his eyes scanning the multitude of patrons more out of habit than a conscious searching effort.
The barkeep caught his attention, a balding man who didn't look like he should be messed with. He didn't hear the man's voice over the crowd, but he was fairly certain that the words were of a less clean kind as he swept a rag over the bar with furious strokes, a small puddle of beer still forming on the ground.

Trusting King to have picked up on it as well Dylan began to make his way over to the bar, softly pushing past patrons and waitresses until he reached his destination.
Grumpy barkeep indeed... Tall man, ordered a pint, ran off, spillage everywhere, waste of good beer... Putting on his most charming smile Dylan asked if the man had, perhaps, left the bar.
The barkeep shrugged, giving the polished wood of the bar a last swipe. Tasking to himself Dylan stood tip-toe for a moment, looking over the crowd. Seeing nothing immediately he returned to King.
"I'm not entirely certain," he said in a low voice, "but someone tall and handsome freaked out after we entered."

King looked up as he saw a man move away from the bar, spilling his drink. Suspicious, a little too suspicious. Turning his head to Dylan, he raised an eyebrow at the younger man's comment. "I see, then he's on to us," he mumbled as he began to look around the heads of the crowd.

"Watch for the obvious tricks and keep near the door. I think I might have seen him when he moved away from the bar," he continued in a low voice as he moved away from Dylan.

Walking through the crowd in the general direction of where he'd seen the earlier patron knock his glass, King easily maneuvered through the crowd. Sliding and slipping between pairs and customers, he moved effortlessly as he studied each passing face, wondering when the thief would lose his nerve and make a dash for the door or disappear completely.

Where before Floriat had feared the woman might reject him, his fears were doing a complete turnaround mighty quickly. He felt the woman grab a hold on him, one hand of hers going wandering, ending up grabbing his ass and giving a rather deliberate grope. Floriat eyes flew open at that and he wondered just exactly how drunk this here lady might be. He didn’t complain though, as long as she wanted him he’d continue to change! In theory of course, not to mention as soon as he felt her hunger for passion it became quite clear that he might even get a nice snack out of this.

His arms wound around the woman and for a moment he indulged, letting her drag him backwards through the crowd. It wasn’t until she almost dragged him completely out and into a quiet corner that Floriat realized that wasn’t particularly where he wanted to e with two people out looking for him. With some acrobatics he managed to turn the woman around again, pressing her back into the crowd, still kissing her and still being groped by her. She was a little minx alright!

They staggered a little as the ran into someone and the woman finally seemed to come back to reality, looking up at whoever they’d staggered into and giggling an apology.
“Sorry..!” Floriat chimed in with a brilliant smile, coming eye to eye with the drunken man from the doctor’s office. Fuck. For a brief moment he just stared at the man, wondering if perhaps, with some luck, he’d changed enough to be unrecognizable!

Only for a moment Floriat considered he might get lucky before the necklace came to mind again, not to mention his outfit. Dead giveaway! He had to improvise and quickly too! Before either of them could say or do anything Floriat abruptly let go of the woman hanging from his arms, almost making her flop straight to the ground. Instead of making a dash for the door he grabbed a hold of the man’s shoulders, one hand behind the neck to keep him in place and without any word to alert the man he kissed yet another stranger.

If he could kiss his way out of this one, he didn’t see why not! It was what he was good at after all.

Dylan tsked to himself at the command but made his way back to the door nonetheless. It was as good an idea as any, really, but he did hope all of this would go down quietly... last thing he needed on this day was some sort of messed up human/demon rabbit-hunt erupting in a crowded pub.

Not that the mental image wasn't amusing, of course.

Crossing his arms loosely he took up a position near the door, slowly scanning the room from one end to the other and back.
'Hope this luck holds out,' he thought to himself as he slowly turned a half circle. 'Really, first place we enter and he might be here. Wonder if King has some sort of t-' his musing were cut short when no less than two people bumped into him, throwing him off balance for a moment. He quickly recovered, turning to look at the people just as one of them apologised.

Slightly different guy. Same outfit. And that bloody necklace.

Dylan opened his mouth to say something in the general direction of a demand when the thief pretty much dropped the woman he was holding, and he suddenly found himself in what could only be described as a kiss.
For a split-second his mind tried to shut down, then it went back to work at top speed. He was close to his target. Necklace, necklace!
Trying to keep a cool head Dylan reached up until he could wrap his fingers around the jewellery, searching for the locking mechanism.

If all else went wrong he could always strangle the thief with it. Even if said thief was strangely tasty...
He didn't realise the oddness of that last conclusion until he found himself trying to nibble on the other man's lower lip.
'Wait, what?'

King was surprised he had gotten no reaction from the crowd just yet, this thief must be particularly skilled at avoiding others, or perhaps there was another trick up his sleeve?
Turning toward the door, King did a double take when he noticed Dylan kissing what appeared to be another man.

Slacking on the job was one thing, but another man? It was then that King noticed were Dylan's hands were, no not there, but around the man's neck. A necklace?

His eyes widening, King quickly began to move his way through the crowd toward the door, watching the kissing pair intently. Whatever the reason for them locking lips, the thief had been stopped for now, they just had to make sure nothing happened to screw it up.

Positioning himself directly behind the thief, a long scalpel appeared in his hand, ready to fly at the thief. King was prepared to stop the man any way possible if he decided to make a dash for it, but hopefully they wouldn't need such deadly force. Pushing his glasses up on his face, King continued studying the two, like a predator watching over his prey.

The man he had attached himself to this time seemed a bit more startled and a bit less pliant than the woman he’d had his hands on before. Granted, most men were uncomfortable kissing men to begin with, but he didn’t seem to be objecting either! All this much to Floriat’s favor of course, it meant he might be able to walk out of here yet.

He delved into the kiss with as much fervor as he would show his virgin bride… well… probably a bit more fervor than that really, since virgins needed to be handled with care, whereas men preferred to be… man handled. With that in mind, and in order to protect his shiny trinket Floriat grabbed the man’s hands, from around his neck, prying them away from the necklace and pushing the man back against the door bodily. He pinned the hands over the man’s head and held him there, steady.

The man seemed to be reacting to him, slowly but steadily, it… was weird. There was definitely hunger there but not the usual passionate kind. Sure, sure there was some passion there, from which every inch of Floriat’s incubus fiber seem to be leaching but it was... different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The other man beneath him seemed to be oblivious to much of anything, nibbling a little on Floriat’s lips and Floriat found himself hard pressed to actually leave. There was definitely something … something… Screw it, he didn’t know but it was a taste of human he’d never had before!

He opened his eyes suddenly and felt a bit dizzy, like a random bout of vertigo. Surely the beer hadn’t hit him quite that fast had it? He was an incubus for crying out loud, he had better metabolism than that! He swiftly pulled away from the kiss, though didn’t let go of the man just yet, he was a lot less dangerous in this type of position anyhow.

“You’re weird.” He pointed out, almost as casually as he’d named the leader of the assassin’s guild a cambion not too long ago. A cambion he had all but forgotten about again in fact, blissfully unaware of the man sneaking up to him. Oh no, this man he had pinned to the door was of much more interest to him, he wasn’t an incubus, that much was obvious, incubus don’t left him so… so drained, they effected each other barely, feeding on one another it always turned out positive, but this guy…!
"What are you?" He asked with a furrowed brow.

For a moment he had it. He could feel the little clasp through the leather of his gloves and the mist in his head.
But dammit he was hungry all of a sudden.
'No.' he mentally scolded himself. 'Don't zone out, Dylan. Focus!'
Almost, almost! But then two strong hands wrapped around his wrists, pulling them away from the necklace and above his head. Before he even thought about reacting his back hit the door hard enough to knock some of the breath out of him, almost immediately followed by the thief pressing up to his front.

His mind merrily zoned out.

Not that it was the first time he had gotten intimate with another man (courtesy of the Unicorn after saying "surprise me") but this was almost entirely different. No careful seduction or shy-ish giggles, and in public... But somehow that seemed perfectly irrelevant to the fact that this man tasted strangely good and he was hungry.

And all of a sudden it stopped, the thief pulling away from the kiss but in no way letting him go otherwise, leaving Dylan to blink stupidly at the air between them for a moment before the absurdity of the entire situation came back to him.
"I'm weir-?"
"What are you?"
The question got him off-guard completely, and all he could muster was a faint "Eh?"
Then a movement behind the thief caught his eye and he looked past his shoulder in time to see King push his glasses up in an almost casual manner. Watching him being sexually assaulted by another man. In public.
Years of taught respect for one's elders snapped.
"Don't just stand there! Do something!"

King was moving before Dylan could get the word's out of his mouth, his hand bringing the scalpel to the thief's neck, hoping that the touch of cold metal would bring the thief back to reality. "Your an awfully bold one, friend." He whispered in a sweet voice, "No movements or my hand might slip," he continued, his voice thick with the promise of death.

Bringing his other arm, up to separate the two and get a firm grip of the thief, King looked over to Dylan. "Take a deep breath Dylan, focus." He said in a calm manner as he moved to press the scalpel against a particular vein in the thief's neck. The slightest movement would create quite the bloody mess, not something King would often do, even when aiming to kill a target. But the thought of one's blood all over the pub floor might serve as more incentive to listen to the doctor.

"This is what's going to happen, Dylan is going to remove the necklace from your person, and then we're going to all take a deep breath and talk like civilized beings." he stated as he nodded toward Dylan, "Or, you'll bleed all over the tavern floor, and we'll take the necklace."

Leaning towards the thief's ear, King whispered in a low voice so that only he could hear, "I swear if you think to call for help, I will cut your tongue off and be gone before anyone knew we were here," he promised in a dark tone.