anthorn
Well-Known Member
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Hi people. This is an exerpt from chapter 5, where Anthorn and Nikita meet for the first time.
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[FONT=Courier New, monospace]I am hoping in this scene for two things to come across.[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]That either Nikita is a woman very aware of her sexuality, or is trying to seduce him or at least get a rise out of him. (no pun intended)
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[FONT=Courier New, monospace]And that she might come across as a bit of a bitch.[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]With Anthorn i hope his dislike of merchants and displeasure of the entire situation comes across.
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[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Following the steward his gaze went straight to the long cushioned chair sitting near the wall length window. He longed to lie there, to nurse the agony of having to ride a horse. As he made to sit, the steward cleared his throat, fixed him with a distasteful look, I guess I'll stand then. There was a mahogany table to his left, perhaps he could lean on that.
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]I saw you earlier, who are you?”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Anthorn turned sharply. A woman approached from another doorway and he realised it was the same woman he'd seen earlier. It was hard not to stare at her as her only clothing was a small loincloth and a shawl across her shoulders. “My name is Anthorn Xebiar, a Guardian from Caraksand.”[/FONT]
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]A Guardian?” She repeated, slowly, smirking as she stretched in a way that showed what was underneath the cloth. “You're a bit dirty for a Guardian aren't you?”[/FONT]
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]I've been travelling from Caraksand,” he said. He was irked by the tone in her voice, it suggested that she might have been making fun of him. “I haven't had time to change.”[/FONT]
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Ah so you're him, you're the man my father mentioned. So tell me do you know anyone called Rake?”[/FONT]
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]No.”[/FONT]
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Ah, disappointing,” but the expression on her face was anything but disappointed.
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Why?” He asked, trying to find somewhere else to look. Each time the woman stretched it drew attention to her curves and he was painfully aware of his arousal. They were alone and she was hardly dressed, each stretch revealed only what a lover should see; from the lack of hair between the legs to under the arms. Her skin was smooth, unmarked save for a small scar upon her left leg.
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]No reason, no reason at all,” she said sliding down into the chair. “Sit please.”[/FONT]
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[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Anything could happen seemed to be what her eyes were telling him but he knew that It couldn't. She could lie though, couldn't she? Saved from court martial to be accused of rape, just my luck. “I'm sorry miss, I would rather wait for your father so we can discuss his plans,” amusement flashed behind her eyes and he winced. These merchants are all the same, this one however seemed different but that may have been her age. They were he thought, of similar ages and though her eyes revealed her to be calm her legs never stayed still, as though she was afraid or ready to run away.
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[FONT=Courier New, monospace]The girl laughed and smiled, “you should sit you know, or you'll be there forever. My father is in Basara, has been for a year.”[/FONT]
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[FONT=Courier New, monospace]The colour drained from his face, “but I've come all this way. I was told I was to escort your father to Caraksand. What am I supposed to do?” [/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]You can stay the night or we can leave now.”[/FONT]
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]We? What do you mean we?”[/FONT]
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Are you stupid or something?” She asked rising.
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[FONT=Courier New, monospace]“Me, you're taking me to Caraksand is that all right with you?”[/FONT]
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]but I was told,” he continued.[/FONT]
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“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]I really hope you're not as stupid as I'm beginning to think that you are,” she offered her hand. “My name is Nikita Sarakus.”[/FONT]
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[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Numb, he took her hand. A fate worse than death, he was to baby sit a merchants daughter, and a bitch at that.[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Can I change my mind about the court martial?[/FONT]
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]I am hoping in this scene for two things to come across.[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]That either Nikita is a woman very aware of her sexuality, or is trying to seduce him or at least get a rise out of him. (no pun intended)
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]And that she might come across as a bit of a bitch.[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]With Anthorn i hope his dislike of merchants and displeasure of the entire situation comes across.
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Following the steward his gaze went straight to the long cushioned chair sitting near the wall length window. He longed to lie there, to nurse the agony of having to ride a horse. As he made to sit, the steward cleared his throat, fixed him with a distasteful look, I guess I'll stand then. There was a mahogany table to his left, perhaps he could lean on that.
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]I saw you earlier, who are you?”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Anthorn turned sharply. A woman approached from another doorway and he realised it was the same woman he'd seen earlier. It was hard not to stare at her as her only clothing was a small loincloth and a shawl across her shoulders. “My name is Anthorn Xebiar, a Guardian from Caraksand.”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]A Guardian?” She repeated, slowly, smirking as she stretched in a way that showed what was underneath the cloth. “You're a bit dirty for a Guardian aren't you?”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]I've been travelling from Caraksand,” he said. He was irked by the tone in her voice, it suggested that she might have been making fun of him. “I haven't had time to change.”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Ah so you're him, you're the man my father mentioned. So tell me do you know anyone called Rake?”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]No.”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Ah, disappointing,” but the expression on her face was anything but disappointed.
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Why?” He asked, trying to find somewhere else to look. Each time the woman stretched it drew attention to her curves and he was painfully aware of his arousal. They were alone and she was hardly dressed, each stretch revealed only what a lover should see; from the lack of hair between the legs to under the arms. Her skin was smooth, unmarked save for a small scar upon her left leg.
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]No reason, no reason at all,” she said sliding down into the chair. “Sit please.”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Anything could happen seemed to be what her eyes were telling him but he knew that It couldn't. She could lie though, couldn't she? Saved from court martial to be accused of rape, just my luck. “I'm sorry miss, I would rather wait for your father so we can discuss his plans,” amusement flashed behind her eyes and he winced. These merchants are all the same, this one however seemed different but that may have been her age. They were he thought, of similar ages and though her eyes revealed her to be calm her legs never stayed still, as though she was afraid or ready to run away.
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]The girl laughed and smiled, “you should sit you know, or you'll be there forever. My father is in Basara, has been for a year.”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]The colour drained from his face, “but I've come all this way. I was told I was to escort your father to Caraksand. What am I supposed to do?” [/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]You can stay the night or we can leave now.”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]We? What do you mean we?”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Are you stupid or something?” She asked rising.
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]“Me, you're taking me to Caraksand is that all right with you?”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]but I was told,” he continued.[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
“[FONT=Courier New, monospace]I really hope you're not as stupid as I'm beginning to think that you are,” she offered her hand. “My name is Nikita Sarakus.”[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Numb, he took her hand. A fate worse than death, he was to baby sit a merchants daughter, and a bitch at that.[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]
[/FONT]
[FONT=Courier New, monospace]Can I change my mind about the court martial?[/FONT]