Home is Where the Heart Is

The peace had been interrupted, that’s when Famine came out from the darker end of the room where the dim lights struggled to cast over, casting its dusty furnishings in a blanket of shadows. From beneath the blackness she’d emerge clad in her usual gar, hood down at her shoulders that moment.  She came to walk by the Requesting boards, not tolerating her lesser guild mates remark. Famine nudged past the child,
“We don’t give superiors the lip either. Watch your attitude, Ivy.” Famine put with an authoritative air in her voice. She stopped in her tracks a moment spiked her subtle yet icy glare as she craned her head back over her shoulder to the girl; sapphire hues narrowing her direction like daggers. Evidentially the Shadow make mage tugged her attentiveness away from Kissos to face the centerpiece of the guild hall, the figure which had appeared out of thin air. He had obviously emerged from the local lands of Mt. Hakobe which were just outside rather than teleporting across the continent from God know wherever, a slight dust of powdery snow contrasting his dark clothes and hair.

The silence deepened all except for Famine’s bare footfalls. She only proceeded to examine him more from the distance as she moved around the guild space, its members, and its furnishings too meet him. She raised a brow, wondering if she had seen this man around the headquarters once before as she paced the floor towards him. “No one’s seen Annora for quite some time now, the rumors sifting around are saying she’s left without a trace.” The brunette put casually, crossing her tattoo clad arms over her bust. She had to lift her head up to the heavens just to be able to talk meet his eye. Rita had been born petite and only grown to be a five foot three… this man was at the least a whole other foot higher. She tried not to let the way his body towered over bug or intimidate her all that much, her bright colored irises unwavering.

“Something you need?” she inquired a bit colder than but not as harsh as the chill wasteland outside the doors behind them. The noise of the wind whistled through against the fort, reminding them just how forgiving this place was.

"Quiet, Ivy.” Famine never thought she would say this but her subordinates were right… how did they know this man was worthy to represent this guild? Knowing he didn’t necessarily have to listen to anyone a level below him, Famine spoke—seeing as the two seemed to be on an even playing field. “You think you can just walk in here and take the throne then?” Famine spoke his way, the words pulling up the corner of her lip.

“You up for a game of tag, stranger?” Famine inquired with a chuckle in her breath. “No I’m not calling a duel, that’d be too much of a mess. The first one to land a hit on the other wins…. They take the guild. You up for it?..."

Distaste stiffened her gaze, marking clad arms crossed provocatively over Famine's chest. This authoritative and intellectual tone only seemed to irritate Famine. Man, ...how could someone be this high and mighty. The way he glared down at her, spoke, walked.. even breathed. It was as if this Nykyrian was a reincarnation of one of her demons from a childhood that felt so long ago. The man she’d killed before she wound up here for what he’d done to her…. She’d have to swallow it, last thing she needed on her mind was that man, Nyx.

“Of course I could take this guild hall the only one in my way, right? But now let’s cut too the chase… my proposition was that we play some tag, not run our mouths.” The tone left her with what could have been enough poison to devastate a fraction of Fiore’s population, clicking a tongue with detest. Her bare heels slipped back against the nippy floor. Oh how it was surprising how she hadn’t yet contracted frostbite living here, the hypothermic winter violently existing just outside the guild. An azure gaze lifted pleasantly, brows raising with intellectual inquiry, fangs flashing. “After you, stranger.”

With the malevolent power that had been bestowed upon her Famine often forgot how small she was, how light boned and easily out-strengthed she was. She had been gathered up by her throat like nothing, practically stunned by his quickness the moment before.

She had grabbed frantically at her neck, fingers curling inward against the harsh, intensifying grip to try and free her windpipe. There was a knot of dread in her chest. She met his frigid gaze with azure irises like glass, very much sharp but wavering with fragility.

His hand released her, opening like a crane she was left to  slip back to the ground, landing bottom first against the familiar texture of the guild floor she was accustomed to feeling against the bottom of her feet but too be knocked off of them was something degrading. She’d glare upwards with that next statement. At least he hadn’t called her a weakling, at least she probably would still have some power in this guild. “Guess this means you win, stranger.” Famine would wheeze her inquiry managing a ghost of a smile. “As our Guild Master, got a first order of business?" She hissed in a voice soft and silk tipped with a needle sharp point.