[seasonal event] blindsided

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — There was anxiety that bubbled in her stomach, with each knock that rapped along the door and she watched while Remi and the others went back and forth about whether to open the door or not. Rexanna was a good distance away, far enough to not hear what was said, or to accurately see the tears that threatened to spill over her friends’ faces, but enough to get a sour feeling in her stomach when a man — Ronin if she remembered correctly — came in with a bundle. A child. She turned her head away at that point, figuring that there are enough people there to be able to help the man without her interjecting even if she longed to help in one way or another. Instead, she kept her head down and her eyes forward — staring downcast a bit into her glass of water. This would be a very long time, sitting in darkness and surrounded by others who whispered the best they could of the dangers of Longnight. And suddenly, she began to wonder why she’d ended up here. Of course, she imagined it would be safer with more people, but as the events come and go, her mind began to change. She grew restless and worried, unable to satisfy that uncomfortable feeling in her stomach but doing her best. Turning in her seat away from the gathering of people by the fire, she looked toward the others that had gathered, wondering what would happen to all of them, if their efforts couldn’t be enough. She palmed the firework magic at her fingertips, just to be certain it was still there, and she simply stared without entirely seeing as though she were reliving a past memory of being trapped. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.

Once there was nothing else to be done for Ronin other than give him space to cry, Bastien found himself feeling rather useless. He wanted desperately to help, but he had never been good at any kind of comfort that didn't come bottled or in the form of a sexual act, so it was best left to Remi and others to handle that part. Someone still had to look after the bar. So he took that back up, supping from a small bottle of his own in the back to numb the parts of his brain that wanted to scream: this isn't fun anymore, when can I go back to Italy?! It was while his head was tipped back to drink that he caught a glimpse of Rexanna. Unsurprisingly given the day's events, she seemed depressed, sat facing away from the majority of the crowd and playing with magic in her fingers. Bastien immediately wanted to go to her; he did not like to see his friends sad and it would be something better to do than pour drinks. With an announcement of an open bar for now, he went over to her and gently put a hand on the back of her chair. "Rexanna. Are you alright, cara? I see you looking away. Can I get you something a little stronger than water, perhaps?" Bastien Push back, push back, push back, With every word and every breath. What god doesn't give to you, You've got to go and get for yourself.

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — She certainly hadn’t heard him approach. In fact, she had no idea what was happening in her surroundings – all she could imagine were the things that she had spent years running from. For a moment, she ran a hand through her hair and tried to control her thoughts, but it wasn’t until Bastien’s hand touched the back of her chair that she snapped out of it and flinched for a brief second. But she was back, in the here and now, and she turned to Bastien now that she’d realized who it was and who was speaking to her. Rexanna offered him a small smile and a roll of her shoulders, as if she were letting lose of some sudden weight that had barreled down on her. “It’s been a long… night? Few days? I don’t really know anymore.” She admitted to Bastien, perhaps a bit sheepishly, though her voice retained that hum of seduction within. At the mention of a stronger drink, the intelligent part of her wanted to say no. That it would deafen her senses in case something bad happened. But the other part of her that lived for reckless things to take the edge off ended up winning. Snuffing her firework magic, she opened and then clenched her palm for a second before turning back to Bastien. “That sounds… great. Something to take the edge off would be perfect.” She said, and she truly meant it. The devil on her shoulder in control. “Would you be free to talk after?” She tilted her head, turning to face him a bit more fully – hoping that maybe the time would go by quicker with someone to talk to rather than staring at the walls. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.

As he saw her flinch Bastien frowned and moved his hand to just gently rest on her back for a moment, to try and calm her nerves. He could understand very well why she might be tense after the day they had had so he said nothing of it, just rubbed his fingers on her shoulderblade comfortingly for a while. "It has been hard, yes. I'm not sure how long either." Keeping track of time was proving difficult without the light coming and going outside. He'd been sleeping whenever there were beds free and he felt like it. It was disorientating, and he didn't look forward to having to reset himself when the Longnight was over. He wasn't sure how to comfort her on that front, but he knew how to pour a drink. He went to the bar with a nod and leaning over it, grabbed a bottle of something strong and made a shot. Swanning back over to Rexanna, he pulled up a chair next to her and passed her the little glass. "Here, tesora. Drink it all at once. It will burn, but it will take your mind off things. So, what do you want to talk of?" They had begun their relationship on a flirtatious note and without thinking Bastien continued it here, sat closer than was perhaps necessary and wearing his best charming smile. Bastien Push back, push back, push back, With every word and every breath. What god doesn't give to you, You've got to go and get for yourself.

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — She nodded to Bastien, leaning into his touch slightly – some kind of comfort washing over her at the gesture and touch that no one else had done thus far. It was something that was able to bring her out of the dark place of her mind – she was no longer a prisoner, no longer stuck in a quiet dungeon imagining life outside the dark and damp walls. There was a touch, a kind one at that, and it helped her to realize that she was where she imagined. But what wasn’t comforting was that they both didn’t seem to know how long it had been that they’d been trapped beneath the Temple. Rex remained silent for awhile as he left to grab her a drink, watching as he put it together and walked back to her. She shifted in her seat a bit to better face him and the seat he had pulled up for himself as he offered a rather small looking glass. A look of skepticism crossed her face as she grasped onto the glass, having never taken something like it before, but heeded his warning. “Alright.” She hummed, lifting the glass in a sort of mock toast. Then, she downed the glass in one swoop, smacking it down on the table and grimacing after she swallowed. After a few moments, once the burning had become tolerable, she looked to Bastien from beneath her lashes and bashfully smiled before she laughed. “That was horrible. Were you trying to poison me?” She asked in a joking, hummed tone, before she realized that she had asked him to stay to talk and this wasn’t really a true conversation. “Sorry, that I seem a bit aloof or odd. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a place like this, a place where I can’t leave... Brings up some bad memories.” She offered in a way of explanation, sitting back and rolling her shoulders a bit, but her knee did brush up against Bastien’s with the movement. She eyed his charming smile for a moment, reflecting it on her own face as she turned to look back at the tavern around them. She had no concept of time. She didn’t even know when the last time she ate was, but she did know that if the alcohol was as strong as it felt, it wouldn’t take long before it began to affect her with her empty stomach. Reaching up, she ran a hand through her hair before tucking it behind her ears and focusing her attention on Bastien again. “I’m not sure what to talk about… I just don’t want to be alone.” She finally admitted, perhaps a bit sheepishly. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.

Bastien simply smiled and shrugged as Rexanna looked incredulous at the glass, then splayed out his hands in a 'you see?' gesture when she made a face after swallowing. Then she smiled and God, her smile was gorgeous. He took a second to recover from the sight before his mouth caught up with his brain and he laughed. "No, not poison. Maybe dull your senses a little. Which is what you wanted, yes?" The apology and her awkward confession made him shake his head and place a hand just lightly on her knee. "Do not apologise. I think with all the death in the air right now we are all...upside down." It was certainly hard to keep up any kind of fun sexy vibe when there was so much horror at every turn. When this was all over he would have to throw a great party just to instil some joy back into the place. "Perhaps..." He looked towards the back rooms, where there would be a quieter storage space for Rexanna to calm down without the constant chatter and panic around them. "...Could I take you to somewhere quiet, cara? It may help to clear your mind. I could even make you a bed, if you'd like. And I could stay with you." Surprisingly for Bastien there really was no innuendo intended here, just genuine concern. Bastien Push back, push back, push back, With every word and every breath. What god doesn't give to you, You've got to go and get for yourself.

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — Bastien’s animations were something that she found quite charming about the man, his flair for the dramatics also helped. But it wasn’t until he laughed in response to her question of poison that she had begun to grow calmer. She nodded to him with a small half smile that turned up the corner of her lips. But as she tried to awkwardly apologize for her demeanor, she watched his hand as it rested on her knee before she nodded to him with a quiet breathless laugh. “You’re right.” She admitted quietly. She looked back up to his face and followed his gaze toward the back rooms as he poised his question to her. Her own hand lifted and rested on his own, feeling the warmth as though it would radiate through her and warm her chilled bones. Her gaze slipped back to his face as she nodded to him. “Please?” It was an almost breathless question that left her lips. She didn’t want to be alone – and sure, there was Deimos in the corner likely brooding and quiet, but out of all of her friends half of them were missing. She realized she missed Alistair, worried and concerned about his well being since he certainly hadn’t shown up here. And she missed losing herself for a few minutes in a tangle of sheets. And as she turned her head rather quickly, she noticed that the alcohol had already begun to mess with her senses a bit – her vision slightly swarming before it corrected as if it had suddenly hit her. So she waited a moment before she stood fully and gestured with a pale hand for Bastien to lead the way. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.

"I always am." He replied with a coy grin and a tilt of his head. Though it was hardly a difficult observation to make right now. If one wasn't upset from the events of Longnight one had to be made of stone at this point. Bastien was frankly amazed that the naturals here had not all gone insane from having to deal with so much death every winter. Rexanna did want him to take her to the back room, so he stood up with her; then saw how much she struggled and held out a hand to steady her. He hadn't intended the shot to be that strong. He wondered if he had built up too much of a tolerance for alcohol in his years of substance abuse partying. Either way, he took Rexanna's hand with his other and guided her slowly to the back. Once they made it to the storerooms he set her to sit against a crate and set about finding blankets and soft things to make up a makeshift bed. There was a room with beds, yes, but he had promised her solitude and those were always in demand. Here she could be alone without much interruption and he could watch over her for a while (he did not consider her solitude would also mean a break from him). When he had made enough of an area he gestured to it. "Here, try this. Tell me if it is to your liking." Bastien Push back, push back, push back, With every word and every breath. What god doesn't give to you, You've got to go and get for yourself.

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — She didn’t think that she was so drunk as to warrant all the help that Bastien offered her, but her head was a bit fuzzy. She still walked fine, thought fine, and spoke with no slur; but she allowed him to lead her, savoring the other light tough he offered to guide her on the small of her back. She wasn’t entirely sure where he was taking her, she had only seen the Rathskeller from a customer standpoint. But she trusted Bastien and his words of finding her a comfortable place to rest, to spend some time not entirely alone but away from the hustle of what was happening out in the rest of the tavern. He had her sit on a crate, and she did as she watched him rearrange things to make a space for her. A small smile dancing across her lips as she watched him move with a kind of purpose — to help her of all things. It was almost enough to make her snort, but she remained silent. Instead, her sapphire gaze scanned his muscled body and arms as he moved things here and there before gesturing to her to test it out. She stood up then, surprisingly steady on her feet despite the slight sluggishness of her head and approached it on light feet. She ran a hand along the pillows to test for softness and followed it up by the blankets when a thought struck her. She had been gifted recently with a special kind of magic for what she imagined to be occasions just like this. Returning to the pillows she placed both hands on it and let the magic flow ever so slightly. The pillow Bastien had found would shift into a feathered pillow, and two of the mismatched smaller blankets would shift from whatever linens they had been before into a kind of felt for the added comfort of softness. Glancing back to Bastien with a light shrug and a roguish grin, she spoke with her honey dipped voice. “That’s better.” She then moved to remove the thin jacket she wore, leaving her in a kind of tank top before she slipped into the blankets and rested her head on the pillow. After a moment of getting comfortable and testing the softness, she gestured to Bastien with a small smile. “Join me?” She questioned quietly. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.

As always, Bastien was amazed by the sight of magic. No matter how many times he saw it it would always be a wonderful show, something he could never have imagined real in his childhood. With a wide grin he clapped his hands and reached down to feel the blanket. "Such a wonderful skill, Signora." He mumbled under his breath at the softness under his fingers. The offer to join her was both expected and a surprise. He looked back towards the bar for just a moment then deciding they could live without him for a while, took off his shoes and laid down next to her. He slipped into the blankets too but did not touch her, keeping a respectable distance for the time being. "I do hope no one catches us back here and has any scandalous ideas." He said with a laugh, turning to lay on his back and hold his hands behind his head. It would be a lie to say he didn't have any scandalous ideas himself, but...he wouldn't start anything. There was still a part of Bastien that was a gentleman, and Rexanna had come here to relax. Bastien Push back, push back, push back, With every word and every breath. What god doesn't give to you, You've got to go and get for yourself.

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — His clapping ignited something within her, a deep desire for praise that she had forgotten she craved. But it wasn’t the first time he’d clapped like that for her, and she watched him for a moment with a pleased smile and a quiet laugh. “I can make wool less itchy which is always a great thing.” She added, a honey dipped chuckle following behind it closely. But as she got comfortable and poised her question to Bastien, she watched as he glanced to the counter and then back to her to join her. If he needed to go, she had no real reason to keep him. Aside from the fact it could be nice. It was that thought and the one of their flirtations that day they officially met and she had posed for him and his artwork that had her breathing deeply when he settled though remained a bit of distance away from her. Her brows furrowed for a moment, but she eyed the way he laid and how warm and soft he seemed, and she absently chewed on her lip before sitting up slightly on her elbow to look down at him as she hovered slightly. Her hair a dark waterfall as it reached below her shoulders now and hovered lightly above the pillows beneath. That was when she heard his comment and a small yet chimed laugh left her. All thoughts of the dark prison she had spent time in vanished from her mind. She was here, in the Tavern, with Bastien and human contact. Something she treasured deep down. “With our reputations it’s hard to deny regardless.” She teased in her hummed tone, flashing a wink to him in reference to his Masquerade and the imagery that flashed into her mind of all the bodies and pleasure that’d ensued that night. “May I?” She questioned him with a tilt of her head, looking down at him and gesturing slightly to be able to lay on his chest. To be close. To be touched and held. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.

Bastien watched out of the corner of his eye as she leaned up over him. He could be happy like this forever, he thought, laid in the back room of a party with a beautiful woman next to him. From her hair pouring down her shoulder to her blue eyes that seemed so wonderful, so pigmented compared to his own dark brown ones. And rarely for Bastien it extended beyond a physical attraction; he found Rexanna's spirit refreshing, similar to his own but different in the right ways. He realised he had been considering her for far too long and was relieved when she broke the moment to ask if she could lay on his chest. Immediately he smiled and nodded, taking her in his arms and holding her steady against him. One of his hands slowly raised to stroke her hair away from her face, run his fingers through it. It was surprisingly tame for him, almost a domestic action, one done without thought. "...So..." Bastien found his mind wandering, considering their origins. "We are both strangers to this world. Or, we were. And now I find I have been here so long I am almost...getting used to it. Mio Dio. What if we both grow old here? I suppose you might not miss your old world, hm? But I miss mine badly...ah, forgive me. I'm rambling." Bastien Push back, push back, push back, With every word and every breath. What god doesn't give to you, You've got to go and get for yourself.

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — As he smiled and nodded, she leaned down and laid against him, nuzzling her head into the crook of his shoulder and wrapping a pale arm around his torso while he wrapped his own around hers and ran a hand through her hair. A contented sigh left her lips and she closed her eyes for a brief moment, realizing now that she didn’t feel quite so drunk since being able to remain in one spot. She was content to be here forever, she thought. Nestled in warmth and soft things with someone to share it with. So when he began to speak, to ramble as he called it, she opened her eyes and peeked up at him to listen and follow the movement of his lips as his accented voice left them. At the mention of somewhat getting used to this strange land, she nodded slightly. “Mhmm…” She hummed to him before he mentioned growing old. For a moment she looks away, uncertain where she saw herself. She never thought she’d grow old, with a life spent on the run or in hiding. But now with the stability of not being hunted 24 hours a day, she wasn’t sure where that left her. Yet she looked back at him as he mentioned his home and her brows pulled together. She was lucky, to not miss a place she had been thrown from. But to be in a happy life with a happy world, to suddenly be placed here had to be hard. She began to trace her fingertips along his side as she thought about all he had said before she decided on something. “Ramble away Bastien.” She encouraged with a light smile. “I honestly never thought I’d grow old. I’m just living day by day like I did before, no real prolonged plan.” Perhaps it was a bit sad to admit, but it was the truth, and she still smiled to Bastien like it didn’t matter. “I was a prisoner for a while back home. Spent a few years on the run before I appeared here. I’m not sure what to think or do, but I imagine when I’m old I want it to be just like this.” She admitted, eyes tracing his face from his eyes to his lips. A life of comfort, of good company, never being alone. “Tell me about your home, if you want. What was it like?” She asked, scanning him again. It was probably miles ahead of her burning, crumbling castle. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.

Fingers on his side softly stroking felt wonderful; Bastien had forgotten how wonderful simple touch could be. Not sex, just the sensation of being held and caressed. Back in the sanctuary he had had people in his bed for hours most nights, indulged in their bodies as often as he pleased.  Here, as much as he would never admit it, he was often lonely. "I think most of us,  in youth,  do not want to plan for old age. But I am glad I can provide for you a good picture of how it could be. You will be a lucky old lady if you are on the chest of a 32 year old man, hm?" He laughed, looking down and meeting Rexanna's eyes as she glanced up at him. For a moment he felt an intense pull, a need to lean down and-- no. He gathered his thoughts and answered her question. "It was on the water. With large stone buildings grander than anything I've seen here." Was there a hint of snobbery in his voice? Maybe. "A place of art and love, if you knew where to look. Carnivale, the Opera House...ah. And of course, all my students. Perhaps it is egotistical but I wonder if they are all lost without me. I was not only teacher but landlord, mentor and companion. Where would they have gone?" Sometimes he had fantasised that when he returned to Venice (and he still clung onto the idea that he would return, one day) it woukd be as if not a minute had passed. He would wake up in bed on the same night he had arrived in Caido not having missed a thing. "...But how is one to know their old home even exists, anymore?" Bastien Push back, push back, push back, With every word and every breath. What god doesn't give to you, You've got to go and get for yourself.