There are times when, undeniably, she enjoys thr kill; usually in the middle of it, past the point of being pragmatic about flanking and strategic with her arrows, when the moral code of her enemies ceases to be a thing that matters and she focuses on how fucking good she is at this. Also, usually, when the rest of her companions are bloodied and at their limit and she's evaded every hit, her black leather armor pristine and in one piece; her ego rears its ugly head, looks around the battlefield, and goes damn, I'm good.
Jumping on the duergar and taking them out of combat in what feels like six seconds (give or take) fills her with satisfaction. Glancing up, seeing Tav's sharp gaze on her, fills her with something else.
She remembers grabbing his wrist to pull herself up, and then the press of teeth against hers, tongues meeting, gods being mentally invoked because -
Gods. Gods.
For all that she's used to this, to sex and finding one (or many) eager partner to take to bed without the need for commitments beyond a night (or hours) of pleasure, she's never been kissed in the fucking middle of a battle.
So thoroughly. So well. She has to respect the balls on the guy, claiming her mouth in a kiss while enemies are still breathing.
There's a flare of heat she feels on her closed eyes, signalling a spell; a final foe screams and falls, and then silence.
She opens her eyes when Tav withdraws from her mouth, in time to see a thin line of spit from her lower lip to his.
"Fuck - " breathed out. She swallows a knot in her throat. "Oh, you are trouble." With a capital T. She might start calling him Trouble instead of Tav - tieflings and their virtue names, right?
She looks beyond his shoulder at the three-levels battlefield, and nods. "Think you turned that one into juice. Hot."
The lakeshore was littered with the dead. Colors of murder gleamed in the flickering torchlight, were reflected off the lake's black surface. Tav strolled through the carnage, feeling oddly...better. Satisfied. The smell of blood and worse stained the air, weighted the odd little breeze that still dared swath through the scaffolding. Brave element, that.
Still, it would be good to report this to the Sovereign. Tav oddly found that he liked the myconids; they were a simple people just trying to survive in their underground environment. They were generally peaceful, though their way of handling threats was damned effective. And he respected the Sovereign. No doubt the myconid leader would be pleased with his and Ea's little "outing" here.
Hearing her beind him, Tav turned, sheathing his long blades as he did so, and meandered back towards his tiefling companion, feigning a look of hurt outrage. "'Trouble'?" he echoed, a small smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. "That's just hurtful." But there was a glint in ice-blue eyes as he said it, followed by a sly little wink.
Then he gestured to the dead. "Think they'll have anything worth the taking?"
"Any loot is worth taking," she points out simply. Life lessons from Ea Lowkey - when you're trading every bauble for one loaf of bread, you're going to care that you didn't take that figurine out of a guild member's pocket; it'll be what gets you butter, or water.
She doesn't go into the how and the why of her experience with lock picking and pickpocketing, not with these guys and not in general. On a rather large island nation, four weeks on a ship away from Baldur's Gate, are the remnants of the guilds that witnessed Ea grow up into the thief, spy, and assassin she is now.
As far as her newfound group is concerned, she has never gone hungry, she has never been dirty and alone and brought low.
Her lips still tingle in the aftermath of the kiss, but looting is a distraction she's familiar with and going to take. It's what he offered, after all.
She crouches down by the duergar she turned into a pincushion, picks up his dagger. Looks up at Tav to wave it idly in the air.
"See? This'll get you something even with the myconids - I think Blurg will take it."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
🗡️🫀
Date: 2025-07-12 11:52 am (UTC)Jumping on the duergar and taking them out of combat in what feels like six seconds (give or take) fills her with satisfaction. Glancing up, seeing Tav's sharp gaze on her, fills her with something else.
She remembers grabbing his wrist to pull herself up, and then the press of teeth against hers, tongues meeting, gods being mentally invoked because -
Gods. Gods.
For all that she's used to this, to sex and finding one (or many) eager partner to take to bed without the need for commitments beyond a night (or hours) of pleasure, she's never been kissed in the fucking middle of a battle.
So thoroughly. So well. She has to respect the balls on the guy, claiming her mouth in a kiss while enemies are still breathing.
There's a flare of heat she feels on her closed eyes, signalling a spell; a final foe screams and falls, and then silence.
She opens her eyes when Tav withdraws from her mouth, in time to see a thin line of spit from her lower lip to his.
"Fuck - " breathed out. She swallows a knot in her throat. "Oh, you are trouble." With a capital T. She might start calling him Trouble instead of Tav - tieflings and their virtue names, right?
She looks beyond his shoulder at the three-levels battlefield, and nods. "Think you turned that one into juice. Hot."
no subject
Date: 2025-07-19 02:55 am (UTC)Still, it would be good to report this to the Sovereign. Tav oddly found that he liked the myconids; they were a simple people just trying to survive in their underground environment. They were generally peaceful, though their way of handling threats was damned effective. And he respected the Sovereign. No doubt the myconid leader would be pleased with his and Ea's little "outing" here.
Hearing her beind him, Tav turned, sheathing his long blades as he did so, and meandered back towards his tiefling companion, feigning a look of hurt outrage. "'Trouble'?" he echoed, a small smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. "That's just hurtful." But there was a glint in ice-blue eyes as he said it, followed by a sly little wink.
Then he gestured to the dead. "Think they'll have anything worth the taking?"
no subject
Date: 2025-07-19 06:51 am (UTC)She doesn't go into the how and the why of her experience with lock picking and pickpocketing, not with these guys and not in general. On a rather large island nation, four weeks on a ship away from Baldur's Gate, are the remnants of the guilds that witnessed Ea grow up into the thief, spy, and assassin she is now.
As far as her newfound group is concerned, she has never gone hungry, she has never been dirty and alone and brought low.
Her lips still tingle in the aftermath of the kiss, but looting is a distraction she's familiar with and going to take. It's what he offered, after all.
She crouches down by the duergar she turned into a pincushion, picks up his dagger. Looks up at Tav to wave it idly in the air.
"See? This'll get you something even with the myconids - I think Blurg will take it."