nekhbetkhalid

[nekhbetkhalid]

minstrelhadrian:

“Wherever you want, whatever you want - these things will get you into trouble with me,” the bard laughs, but he knows it to be true. He isn’t one to politely turn down a person’s generosity; he will take what is offered, as he believes any smart person would. And, if one plays their cards right, they can get the right person to offer them the world. Kael seems like he could be that person, but Hadrian doesn’t want the world from him, not now. He will settle for a few nice material things. Hadrian frowns at the rather flippant way Dracborough is mentioned, and he thinks that he’d rather not have this conversation. This is the first thing about Kael that he hasn’t liked; not even the discovery that he kills people in cold blood regularly had bothered him so much. “I have never been to Ironhaven, so I could not judge it. It has quite the reputation, though. I’d be interested to see it. And Dracborough is beautiful, the best place in Zenan, thank you very much.” He heads towards the market square, hoping to find a tailor who works with silks and furs - he wants to see if his friend will put his money where his mouth is. “That’s unfortunate. There are plenty of men out there with nice houses in places that aren’t Norden that I can chat up, though. I’ll get by.” He grins and nudges the other man.

“What if I like trouble? Especially if it involves you.” Nekhbet replies back, his voice thick with amusement. In truth Nekhbet— while he’d never been a stranger to trouble, tried to avoid it when possible. He didn’t care to end up in a dungeon cell someplace, nor dead; six feet under for the worms to help decompose him. For Hadrian though, perhaps he was willing to risk a bit more, it was only fair right, to enjoy life sometimes an equivalent exchange must be made, that’s just how life worked. That’s really how they seemed to be working so far. Nekhbet isn’t one to knock a good thing when he sees it, even if that costs him coin lavishing the other man with gifts. He catches sight of the frown though, so much for not knocking a good thing, he hadn’t even seen that expression out of Hadrian when the other man caught him killing someone, who knew that Dracborough would be such a touchy subject. Although Nekhbet is sure his comments are more or less the culprit and not the subject itself. “You’ll have to keep your wits about you there, should you ever visit. Not that I think you’d have much trouble with that at all.” He gives an easy little grin towards Hadrian, his eyes casting glances around the area, it’s surprisingly busy, Nekhbet can only assume it’s because so many people are packed into Bearoria. The shopkeepers must be making a killing; Nekhbet sure was. ( pft ) “I suppose if for some reason I go there for work, you’d be more than welcome to join me. I could show you around, I unfortunately know the place better than back of my hand.” This was a truth that he could never ignore and while he didn’t plan on taking a job there if he could help it, he thinks it might ease the sting of being there if Hadrian tagged along. “Ah it’s very beautiful, don’t get me wrong.” It was mostly the heat he had a problem with but at any rate, “I recall seeing the most beautiful sights there,” Nekhbet muses, looking over at Hadrian as he says it, for the briefest of moments there’s what looks to be a soft smile on his face. It leaves however at the bards next comment, getting replaced with him snorting and giving way to mock offence his mouth going agape for a second. “Somehow I doubt those men are as interesting as me though.” Nekhbet nudges him back, as if they are both children teasing one another. “Besides it’s not as if I’m really ever home for long so I think our time together can be managed— if you’ll still have me, feel free to move on to your other would be suitors though, just know my heart will only ache at the very thought.” Another sly playful expression, his words honey eyed; there is some truth to them though, even if he doesn’t admit to it.

[nekhbetkhalid]

averycassel:

avery made a noise of confirmation. he didn’t want to go into detail at all, but sitting there taking tentative sips of his admittedly not terrible wine, he couldn’t help but think about anything but ironhaven. “the fuck’s my accent sound like, exactly?” he shook his head. “don’t think kradaeca’s fucking passive. it’s normal. compare anything to the home of octavius’s fucking monsters–” he paused and grinned and raised his glass, interjecting: “and here’s to that fucking bastard being eaten by worms. anyway, compare anything to ironhaven and it’ll seem like a goddamned vacation.” he would have thought the man would know, given his apparent history. “were you there long? enough to get thrown into training?”

“I don’t know there’s just a way of speaking everywhere, I could only describe it as Kradaecan, it’s nothing bad.” Nekhbet assures with a shrug of his shoulders, he rolls his eyes though; always so hostile Avery was, it was as interesting and likable as it was frustrating. He couldn’t tell you what his own accent sounded like at any rate, probably pretty muddled by all the different places he’d been to in his lifetime. Slipping most likely into wherever he was accent, at it’s core it was most likely the type of accent someone from Ironhaven might have, he doesn’t like to think about that. Seemed like Avery hated the dammed place as much as he did and that was very much welcomed. Nekhbet shakes his head, “I suppose normal is a welcome change I’m not used to, even Norden has it’s radical instances, especially at night.” The idea of him thinking the seaside city was normal and not passive was an interesting one, still it had it’s underbelly, if it didn’t Nekhbet reasons he would have never been there.  The assassin chuckles clinking the offered raised glass lightly with his own; he could definitely drink to that. “Long live the king on his own eternal vacation, preferably in hell.” Nekhbet was no better, worse potentially but at least what he did he kept to the shadows he thinks, didn’t conquer empires only the occasional person never mind the fact he enjoyed it all the same, what a hypocrite.Then a question is posed and for a moment Nekhbet has to think on how to answer it, he takes a swig of his drink to mask that however. “Mhm unfortunately. I suppose you could say the whole thing left a sour taste in my mouth.” Partially anyway, part of him hated it; that was true...but part of him also relished in it, thrived in it even. After the death of his mother it was all he had, all he could excel in.

[nekhbetkhalid]

                              it sure isn’t you, a man is no one.

[nekhbetkhalid]

More and more, it feels like I’m doing a really bad impersonation of myself.

Chuck Palahniuk, Asfixia (via wordsnquotes)

[nekhbetkhalid]

khaileefell:

She didn’t answer his question, nor give him any response to the other things he said, as he stepped through the threshold. Khai wanted to scream that she didn’t care about the state of his chambers or his place in Norden or anything else in the world in that moment, but her frustration got lodged somewhere in the midst of all the sadness, luckily remaining trapped for the time being. It wasn’t Nekhbet’s fault she was feeling this way, and she couldn’t take it out on him. The freshly orphaned woman paced a little bit in his room for a moment, trying to control her breathing and keep her steps steady despite the alcohol and discomfort, but she wasn’t sure it was working. Eventually she stopped her pacing and shifting and her gaze flew back up to meet Nekhbet’s. “No, I– No,” Khai said quietly, hating how feeble her voice sounded. She wished it were that simple: that he could go beat someone up and have that be the end of all of her problems. She took a deep breath and then let it out, running her hands through her hair. “I need something else right now.” And without another moment’s delay, she walked forward and stepped into him, backing him up against the door he’d just closed. Simultaneously, she reached up and twisted her fingers in his hair, rising to her tiptoes so that she could unite their lips in a desperate kiss. His taste was familiar, but for the first time ever she found herself comparing this to Matt. It felt… different with Matt, as if she was lighter and warmer with him than anyone else she spent the night with. But thoughts of him only made her feel guiltier for doing this, so she kissed Nekhbet harder and curled against him, every movement urging him on. Khai just wanted to forget, even if it was only for a little while.

She needed something else, Nekhbet had heard that before but it usually ended with them both naked and honestly this wasn’t what he’d expected when he’d went to the door. He wonders when he grew so soft, when his brain and his heart could agree on something, meanwhile his body did not. The vulture in him tells him to lets this continue, hell maybe part of Nekhbet wants it too as well; the moment she backs him up against the door, tangling her fingers into his hair. For once Nekhbet lets out surprised noise, not because he’s honestly surprised by the women’s actions but because it had been so long since he’d held her in his arms, since he’d felt her lips push into his. This was like old times, Nekhbet thinks for the briefest of moments, there is comfort in it; in the familiarity of it all. The second thought he has as he instinctively presses back into the kiss is one of realization. She was drunk and while normally that might not have made much of a difference he thinks there’s a reason behind it; had thought as much since he’d first seen her again. Nekhbet also thinks to the bard, or perhaps Kael does; it all bleeds together in his thoughts all the same. He has to wonder what the other man might think if him and Khai were caught like this, Nekhbet owes him nothing he tries to tell himself ( as if to ease a pang of guilt felt coming from his rotted heart ) but his hands are already trying to push his friend off of him ( as gently as one can be of course ) as if he actually does how Hadrian something. He wants to get to the bottom of all of this, he doesn’t want to bury it all so easily as Khailee does. Nekhbet...wants to help his friend.  “No, stop.” His tone is firm but he takes a moment to regain his breath from that kiss. Green eyes flicker to hers, brows narrowing and a serious expression contorting to his face. Nekhbet places his hands on her arms, holding her, perhaps slightly tighter than he intended. “What’s wrong, I’m serious, you can lie to me and tell me nothing but don’t do that to yourself.” The assassin had been used to being convenient for others feelings, he’d done the same to her no doubt in the past, he thinks he’s starting to change though; thinks he doesn’t want to be a scapegoat for either of their problems anymore. “Don’t do that to us.” He admits, as if his facade is cracking, as if she’d managed a chink in his armor and his voice might waver.

[nekhbetkhalid]

khaileefell:

Slightly tipsy and extremely sad was the mood that led her here. Khai was pacing back and forth outside Nekhbet’s door, slightly shaky and glassy-eyed as she tried to hold back another breakdown while she waited for him to answer. She’d considered going back to Matthias’s room, but Matt would want to talk about it and make her feel better, and all she really wanted right now was a distraction. Lately it had been all too easy to get lost within the darkest corners of her mind, and not even the alcohol seemed to be helping anymore. Nekhbet and Khai had, for as long as they’d been best friends, been keenly aware of when the other needed… company for the evening. They’d been filling the voids of loneliness in each other for years. She crossed her unsteady fingers and hoped nothing had changed recently, because that was exactly what the self-destructive brunette needed right now.

Nekhbet hadn’t expected anyone to be honest, perhaps Hadrian ( mostly because he knew what room and tavern to find him at ) but even then it wasn’t as if they’d made any sort of plans. So when he hears a knock at his door he finds himself assuming it’s the bard. Curiously, Nekhbet leans up from the bed he’d been in, rolling his shoulders as he slinks to the door to open it. To his surprise even more however it’s Khai, at first there’s a slight look of puzzlement upon his face but that dissipates and he gives way to a wry smile. “Did you miss me already?” Not that he was one to complain her showing up at his door.  The man can’t help but think she’s been drinking though, he knows that look; been right there with her with that same look himself many a times; he’s sober now though and with a nod of his head for her to come in he opens the door. “Sorry it’s not much, but it's got a bed." He snorts "I’m supposed to be here for work though. You’ll have to visit me in Norden sometime, my place there is much better than this.” He admits with a slight disgusted tone, if one didn’t know better he might of seemed slightly embarrassed, never the less he doesn’t think right now she cares all that much. “You...alright my dear? You seem a bit shaken, do I need to knock someones teeth in?” He jests shutting the door behind them, honestly though he'd taken note of the way she shakes. It’s a slight thing but he doesn’t think it’s from the alcohol; he thinks it’s from whatever she hadn’t told him a few days ago.

[nekhbetkhalid]

khaileefell:

Lord Ramses. She hadn’t heard that name in such a long time. Still, she couldn’t help but smile just a bit at the thought. Khai remembered the look he’d given her from across the room and how captivating his presence was from the first moment they’d met. That was another thing they had in common: the ability to command attention. Just another reason why they happened to get along so well. Messing with him a bit, Khai hummed and said, “Lord Ramses? No, I’m afraid I don’t recall that one. Must not have been a very interesting persona.”

She’d been trying her absolute best not to let her brain swim in the direction of her father as it took a walk down memory lane, but Nekhbet’s next comments threw her off. The duke’s empire had been vast. He’d had an estate and a beautiful family and holdings across the land. He’d had the respect or at the very least, the fear of his colleagues and those beneath him. But look where that had all gotten him. Khai fell silent for a moment, flashing back to the moment she’d knelt down and picked up a handful of ash in the rubble, the only thing besides herself and Vincent that remained of that very empire. When the enemies invade, no amount of title or wealth in the world could protect you.

She stepped through the threshold into the tavern. Khai tuned back in a moment later as he continued talking and tried to shake the toxic memories for the time being. It was fairly impossible, but she made sure her face was neutral and her eyes were dry before she looked up at him again. “No need to remind me, darling. I’m still well aware of your… talents, beneath the sheets,” she replied. Her voice sounded a little odd, lower than usual. She cleared her throat and sat down, hoping he wouldn’t catch it. The sack she still carried clattered to the floor noisily, but the sound was drowned out by the rest of the loud people in the place. Khailee looked around, gathering her surroundings. Loud was good. Loud made it harder for the noise inside her brain to be her only focus.

Nekhbet’s grin, so calm and playful… Khai envied him. He made it look so easy. “Ah, yes, I remember now. I was absolutely infatuated with you. Your moving away was very difficult for me.” With his profession, Nekhbet had always come and gone since they’d met a few years ago, and this was one thing that was actually partially true: she tended to miss him when he was gone. But she always knew he’d return; nobody could kill this vulture. “Be a babe and get us a few pints, will you? I’ve been walking awhile in these heels and my feet hurt.”

She acts as if he isn’t aware of that little smile that played on her lips at the notion of his name, he likes this though; the back and forth between them. It is because of that, that he feigns being hurt and offended, it is obviously a jest though with the way he too smiles. “Oh I thought he was very interesting, I’m hurt you don’t remember the young lord, he quite fancied you.” Nekhbet thinks back to then, one of the few more regal characters he’s been to be honest; those tended to be the lies harder to keep track of, hence him never playing the part of the rich and well to do very often.  “I’m glad to know you haven't forgotten after all this time, nothings changed I assure you.” He winks, despite the wink though he still can’t shake the feeling that something is off with her; Nekhbet can put two and two together well enough but at the end of the day he wants to hear her speak, hear her say whatever it is that’s bothering her. He thinks he might not believe it otherwise. “Is that so?” His eyes quirk up, flicker with delight, “I always knew you were enamored with me, such a shame I had to go.” Such a shame he always had to go, that was his own partial truth, he’d always missed her; she’d been the only person in all of Zenan he’d met that he actually missed in truth. Although he always tended to find his way back to her, like now. Perhaps that was the greater truth between them; that even when he’d leave he’d always come back to her. “Aren't I always?” He questions with a cheeky little smirk before making a face and turning around, waving his hand. “Mhm but I’ll hurry back with those drink my dear, do try to keep any fools at bay while I’m gone.” Nekhbet teases as he walks towards the bar, he hopes perhaps a few drinks might get whatever it is that Khai doesn’t want to tell him out of her, somehow he doubts this though. The women was too stubborn and he thinks it might be a few days before she actually gives up whatever she’s hiding. At any rate just talking to his old friend would prove to be a good distraction from his own thoughts, drunken nights in Kradaca with her used to be so captivating, that probably had more to do with her and less to do with him though. 

[nekhbetkhalid]

                                  nekhbet minimalist aesthetic

[nekhbetkhalid]

kinghenrymontague:

Henry’s brows knit together tightly at the other man’s words. The king doesn’t consider himself one to judge those of lower classes, but the truth was that many weren’t as educated as nobles and royals. To hear such a well-spoken commoner wasn’t at all unusual, but Henry was glad of it nonetheless. It was nice to be able to talk to someone without the fear of them falling to their knees in a bow to try and get on a king’s good side, too. With Kael’s words hitting quite close to home, Henry feels a slight smile softening his lips. “ Yes, I would have to agree. But if love is all there is, I would not complain. ” Despite the fear of sounding soft or weak, Henry couldn’t help feeling as if love was the most important thing of all. Thinking of life without Nate, without feeling what he did for the other king, was nearly impossible to even consider. Nodding at the information, Henry licks dry lips before speaking up. “ That is truly good to hear. Unity, in a time like this, is the most important thing for people to focus on. After a war, and invasion, and nearly a civil war, people need to realize there are greater things at hand than missing your own bed, or the weather of your home kingdom. ”

Nekhbet hadn’t ever really been that well educated in his younger years, despite that he’d managed as he grew older, overcoming the odds; perhaps if he’d been a better person that might have been a heartwarming tale. Local Ironhaven orphan beats odds and makes coin, find out how you can too!  Picking up bits and pieces of and from various people along the way, he’d became someone better than who he started as, better than that scared little kid all those years ago. He’d became educated and well spoken because he had to be, if he ever wanted to make it as someone in the worlds he would pretend to be from. Nekhbet had been many people, every character more layered than the last, Kael is in his own way unique, probably got a good education because he’d say his mother had been a well to do women, who gave everything away for love. He wondered if that wasn’t far from the actual truth, he supposes he’ll never know now. Now there’s a slight smile on the kings lips, his expression softening somewhat, love; ah what a concept the king of Norden grew soft at love. His notions are confirmed when the other man speaks.  “Perhaps if this world had more of it— well things would work themselves out more often, this I can’t disagree with Your Majesty.” He sighs lightly as if he really, truly believes the nonsense coming out of himself, as if he is a man who believes in love. There is a pang in his chest when he thinks of the word, the assassin likes to think that’s because there’s nothing left there but a rotted out heart, pumping blood into something long dead. “I honestly fear for the day when love isn’t enough for some people.” He shakes his head as if to not think of such depressing notions before looking back to his king. “You need not worry too much though I assure you, most everyone is united in Norden, unity is surely our motif and our people always preserve and realize what’s important, I believe.” He brims with a sure smile, it’s almost childlike in it’s innocence, but mostly it’s just enthusiastic about the way ‘his’ people are. The Norden people were indeed like that, Nekhbet could admit to that much, they stood behind their king with the sort of vigor and unity that might make most men question ever attempting to bring them down. Nekhbet had considered that when moving there to be honest but not for any good reasons, only selfish ones. “I wasn’t originally from Norden but there has never been a place that welcomed me more openly, nor a place I’d rather call my home, I am happy to be apart of it all during and despite such times that you speak of Your Grace.”

[nekhbetkhalid]

                           together we make bad decisions.

                                                                      —but there is comfort in dark & warm places.

[nekhbetkhalid]

minstrelhadrian: ( K E E P      R E A D I N G )

Hadrian being left breathless is ironic in it’s own way, like a song bird who fails to sing and yet he is still beautiful, in the way he smiles at first; in the way he exhales and groans soon after— and especially in the way he throws his head back to the pleasures Nekhbet can offer now. Nekhbet wasn’t sure what made him fancy the bard as much as he did, he thinks it’s nothing simple though, thinks it is nothing as much as it is everything.  “I’m going to leave a what Hadrian?” Nekhbet teases, his voice rather husky and hot against Hadrian’s skin. “Forgive me, I didn’t catch that,” He purrs, like an all too dangerous cat that had already pounced on the man, ensnared him even. Hadrian is jerking up into his hand before he knows it, Nekhbet licks at his lips in delight, pressing back onto Hadrian’s skin to leave another mark, he’s simply testing the waters, testing what he can get away with when it came to the other male. Nekhbet breaths a bit heavier now, his breath hitching and his muscles tensing with want, with need for more. It would seem that Hadrian really did like danger, as evident with his reaction to the hand on his neck. In the past that hadn’t been particularly something that was as welcomed by all, leaving the assassin to be lightly disappointed on occasion. Hadrian didn’t disappoint though, 'keep doing that' Nekhbet hears, this; this is music to his ears and gods does he want Hadrian to keep singing. Fuck he most certainly didn’t disappoint at all. There is a hand on his wrist though, as if Hadrian could stop him; he thinks. It’s amusing none the less and if it brings the other man some form of grounding to this moment he won’t say anything on it. He is still careful though, Nekhbet had never been careful with his hands when it came to work, when it came to play however... “Keep doing what, this?” He, while still not soft; held a kind of care most might not have thought he had, if they knew him well enough. There is a precision in the way he squeezes at the other mans neck once more, ( airways were usually sturdy, still it didn’t take long to hold someones throat before they passed out, or worse. light compression here and there on the lower half of the neck tended to be a safer bet ) increasing the pressure, ever so slightly. Nekhbet kisses him, hard and demanding, he wants to steal the last bit of breath that Hadrian has left after applying pressure to him. All the while his other hand still moves, in a faster succession now against the bards cock. He’d have to be careful if he kept this up, he’d hardly be able to enjoy Hadrian as much as he wanted to, still he’s loving the way he writes and groans underneath him.

[nekhbetkhalid]

minstrelhadrian: ( K E E P      R E A D I N G )

“Mhm, maybe I should make you keep going like that, begging for me. I kind of enjoy it.” He did, honestly and truly he did. He wants to take Hadrian to the brink, over and over again until he can no longer stand it. As Hadrian takes off his own pants ( a bit shakily and fuck does Nekhbet find that almost endearing ) he himself moves to take off his own. His hands, his fingers are steady unlike the bards, his mind however isn’t. Gods had it really been that long since he’d been with a man, part of that notion leaves him uneasy, he stifles it down, refusing to not allow himself enjoy the moment. 'I’m quite skilled with mine in that fashion, as well, you know,’ That statement echos in his head, it tantalizes his thoughts; but it had been a question that Nekhbet didn’t know initially know how to answer. It was always a fine line he walked, with that body of his. He finds himself often caught at various degrees of allowing himself to even enjoy the pleasure it wills him, in ways he sometimes wished it didn’t and at other times wished it did. “Is that so? Perhaps you could show me.” The vulture raised his head as if to say he’d allow it, for now at least, until it doesn’t strike his fancy anymore, one never really knew with him to be fair; someday’s he’d want his body touched and prodded at one way and another the next. Nekhbet perches himself back on top of Hadrian once more, hovering over him with barely anything left between them. He wants to see all of the other man, wants the other man to see all of himself too, he thinks but he hesitates if only momentarily. The assassin moves his head towards Hadrian’s crotch, shaking his emotions off and tugging at the last little bit of clothing preventing him from getting to the bards cock. His tongue teasing the head of the other mans dick once it’s out, his lips are soft and pliable as he goes to draw him completely into his mouth, widening his jaw as his tongue pressed against the underside. He only does this for a few good motions of his head, up and down; and there’s a slight popping sound that comes as Nekhbet releases. He looks towards Hadrian, someplace between being pleased with himself and wanting to see his reaction. Nekhbet inches closer, to Hadrian’s face, fingers smoothing over his skin, at his throat, his other hand now stroking the bard slowly, teasingly more than anything else. “Tell me Hadrian, you were let down by the fact I wasn’t a dangerous man,” There’s a slowly wicked grin splaying across Nekhbet’s parted lips. “does danger excite you?” He leans to the crook of the other mans collarbone, taking a moment to suck harshly at the skin there, as if to brand Hadrian with a reminder of him. His tongue left to sooth it over once it’s a bright red mark. His hand still hadn’t moved from Hadrian’s throat and he gives it a light squeeze, the assassin is careful despite the rather aggressive gesture. “Do I excite you now?” Nekhbet questions, giving a squeeze this time at Hadrian’s dick, his thumb edging ever so slightly over the shaft.

[nekhbetkhalid]

kinghenrymontague:

Having spoken mostly to himself, the king was slightly shocked to hear a response. But nonetheless, Henry nods his agreement, eyeing the other with curiosity. He knows the man only vaguely, but is glad there is no apparent bad memory associated with the other. “ Indeed. Zenan seems to be obsessed with love, ” he says, sighing deeply. “ Though, I suppose with recent events, as you say, that is to be suspected. ” Giving the reins to an awaiting stablehand, Henry turned his attention to the other once more. It wasn’t often that Henry spoke to those not among his family or fellow royal houses, and so the king took the opportunity to ask him a question. “Kael, yes? Tell me,” he inquired, motioning for him to walk with him back towards the palace, “are the people here desperate to return home?”

This was surely an opportunity Nekhbet couldn’t afford to miss, connections in higher places were always a good thing, staying in royals good graces had been his number one goal in mind when venturing places. Things like this could always secure friendships and cast doubts in the minds of others if his life ever caught up to him. At the very least learning more about the man before him couldn’t be the worst way to spend his time. Kael gives way to a smile, it’s soft and polite, nothing like Nekhbet’s usual look. “Love is perhaps all people have to hold onto these days, I’m afraid. Beyond their loyalties and well wishes of the future.” He comments with a small shake of his head; he follows behind his king, catching up to his side. His king, as if Nekhbet had ever been truly loyal to any one kingdom...how humorous. “Yes, Your Highness.” He answers, listening intently, part of him is surprisingly flattered that he is remembered, curious that this king cares enough about his people to recall even him; Nekhbet thinks that very rare indeed. Perhaps if he had been more loyal this would have been the king for him.  “Some are Your Grace, a few more than others. Some don’t speak it, Norden people can be as quiet as the winter and yet it brews beneath them...” A slight pause as he contemplates the question more. “there are a number, like myself who are fine with the change of pace however, the naysayers seem few and far between overall.” Nekhbet didn’t mind being here, however he never liked staying any place for too long, eventually he too would grow weary.

[nekhbetkhalid]

averycassel:

“i’m not from there. offend away.” he takes a dive into thoughts of ironhaven, thoughts he tends to avoid more often than not. in truth there were people in ironhaven worse off than he was, people who’d stayed behind. his sister, a few others in training, a few he’d known only briefly and shallowly before flying the coop. he wonders if he hates the place more than them. maybe they’re not even sure they hate it. this one is, apparently. “ah. that’s why i hate you. i’m kradaecan.” his accent is somewhere in between, now. took years to get the way it is. he’s glad of the escape from his first kingdom; doesn’t matter how long it takes to shake it off for good. avery walks up the tavern steps and slips inside, door swinging shut behind him. he orders himself a drink without waiting for the man to catch up.

Nekhbet could offend the whole of Ironhaven without trying very hard he thinks, it offers little of use to him, beyond a secretive place to seek refugee should things ever go down. He dips into the tavern behind the other man and after the swinging door practically hits him in the face, it is a mild annoyance but he shovels it down for the time being. Nekhbet pushes it open, part of him hopes it hits someone like it almost did himself, at any rate when he sees the other man he settles beside him ordering a drink himself. “Didn’t know Kradaecan’s hated anyone really, always thought of most of them as more passive than anything else. Liked the place at any rate.” The assassin shrugs, eventually the drink is placed before him, he eyes it before taking a long swig of it. “Thought that’s why that accent you have sounded familiar though. I take it you’ve been to Ironhaven, I mean if you hate the people there?” He raises a brow, idly still holding onto the stein of alcohol.

[nekhbetkhalid]

minstrelhadrian:

“Oh, it’s horrible. I’ve never hated a place more. Cold and snow don’t agree with me - I find it difficult to comprehend how they could agree with anyone, really. And everyone just wears… so much clothing. These people must have killed half the animal population in the area just to clothe themselves.” Hadrian wrinkles his nose at the memory of the place. “I would sooner die than go back there for any period of time,” he adds; he always has a flair for the dramatic. When the inevitable end to whatever thing this is between them finally comes, Hadrian supposes it will ease the sting a bit to know he would have had to move to Norden to stay with him. “You are. Sometimes.” The bard gets the idea that someone who murdered people for a living would likely shy away from being seen as sweet and lovable, or would think themselves incapable of such. And he likes to think he’s doing his part to change that. “I’m not all that much to show off, really,” he replies with a chuckle, although he is mildly frustrated. He isn’t one to care much what other people think, but he certainly understands why they wouldn’t want to announce to the world that they’d spent the night together. The secretiveness annoys him in a way it never had before, and he wonders again what’s wrong with him. I must be getting old, he thinks. He waits an appropriate amount of time anyway, taking advantage of the quiet moment to collect his thoughts. When he finally steps out, he doesn’t think the innkeeper is fooled, but in his experience, they all seemed to mind their own business anyway. Hadrian meets Kael outside, leaving all the weird unfamiliar feelings behind and giving him a bright, genuine smile. “Where to, my dear?”

As Nekhbet waits on the bard he can’t help but dwell on the notion that the man hated Norden. He’s almost in disbelief to be fair but he doesn’t know what he’d expected from someone from Dracborough; the place was a fucking sana. Did the damned dragon, like breath hot air all over the place or something? At any rate when Hadrian arrives outside he wants to continue the conversation. Nekhbet had never been one to drop something like that he supposed. He hadn’t missed the fact that the other man had called him sometimes sweet either but he’d been so set on the idea of Hadrian hating Norden that he didn’t give himself much time to dwell on it.

He is briefly caught off guard when Hadrian calls him ‘my dear’ however, he fumbles for a response in lieu of that; and gods that smile. Fuck the things this man does to him makes him wonder how he’s let him live this long. Although those very things had been the reason why, he’s well aware of that even as he questions himself. “Wherever you want, darling.” He coos back, biting at his lower lips and having to stifle an obvious hint of amusement and...was that giddiness? He doesn’t want his facial features to betray him.  “I know what I like to wear but you have an impeccable taste all your own, so we can go wherever you fancy,” He’d just have to make a stop later in the day at some point, make sure his ‘boss’ was aware the previous nights deed had been done. He doesn’t mention this though, he could do it without Hadrian later at any point; no need to bother him anymore with his work than he already had. Besides the less Hadrian knew the better, it was really for his own benefit rather than Nekhbet’s. “The cold isn’t the best, by the way, with Norden that is...I could admittedly do without it but the layers are nice. That had been one of the pluses for me.” He admits, not elaborating on why. “It’s also more secluded feeling then say, Dracborough at least...unless you count Ironhaven, now that place is a den for seclusion.” He grimaces at the thought of even going back there, he gathers that Hadrian might die if he was ever left there. Somehow he doesn’t think that tongue of his would fit in well among scoundrels and thieves worse than even him perhaps... Ha what a joke, that anyone might be worse than himself, on second thought perhaps Hadrian would be just fine, but Nekhbet knows not nor does he want to test those waters and find out. Ironhaven was nothing but trouble. “Now that’s a place I’d sooner die than go back too...” Another admission, Hadrian already knew he was a killer, what would it hurt if the man knew he’d at the very least been to Ironhaven before. So much for the less the bard knew the better hu?  “Still it’s a shame if you’d rather die than go back to Norden, you’ll never get to see my home then.” Nekhbet teases with a shrug, as if trying to entice the other mans curiosity.

[nekhbetkhalid]

[nekhbetkhalid]

All your acting, your thin disguise; all your perfectly delivered lines. They don't fool me, you've been lonely too long . ( inspo )