Stench

[Giselle Danielle]

Giselle absolutely despised the Assassin's Cove. No one knew the meaning of manners, but they certainly understood the meaning of gold. She came here only when work became difficult to find. She knew that she'd find someone to pay her to go kill someone in this hole filled with rats. She just had to be careful and not kill the wrong person.

The stench of each being filled her nose as she pushed her way through the streets, making her way toward the tavern. Maverick helped move people with growls and snarls, instantly making people move out of his way. The trip to the Tavern was an unpleasant one, but they got there nonetheless. She pushed open the door and entered, Maverick close on her heels.

Somehow they managed to get a table and some ale. Maverick simply laid on the ground by her feet. He didn't enjoy the form of a human and he hated the taste of alcohol. She didn't blame him, most of the time it wasn't good. Today was the first day in town. Most of the people who knew her would see her in the tavern and tell others of her services. Then, by the second or third day, people would find her. She wasn't too concerned about it. She had enough money to last a while, she just preferred to be working to make sure that money didn't run out.

For now she would just sit, drink and observe. Those who slept with men for money roamed around the room, taking some men upstairs with them. Others were attempting to pickpocket the drunks, and others were simply sitting there like her. She moved her coin purse to hang from her neck and under her shirt, hidden from curious eyes. Her sword was could be seen easily, it was what kept most of the men away.

"Hey, girly!" A man stumbled over toward her, slamming his mug down on the table. "How about you and I have a go, eh? Doesn't that sound good?"

"No, it sounds revolting." She said calmly, looking up at him. "If you don't go away my friend here will eat you for dinner." This stirred a low growl from Maverick, causing the man to look down and back away slightly. "Go bug one of the women who'll sleep with you for money, they're the only ones who'll bother."

"Hey, you listen 'ere...." the rest of his sentence was silenced by a loud snarl as Maverick stood up. "I'll be off, then, miss." The man turned and left.

"Thank you, Maverick." Giselle said quietly as the wolf laid down once more.

[Dutch]

Dutch took a deep breath and smiled as he set foot on the rickety old docks in Assassin’s Cove.

Home.

This was his home away from his ship; here among the other conmen, thieves, beggars and lowlifes, he belonged. It was nice to come into port for a while every now and again. Besides, it was about time to make some money again, and he was sure he’d find someone in need of a transporter who knew when to keep his nose to himself.

Jive slinked up beside him, shimmering into the form of a willowy young man with a pointed nose and a shock of red hair.

“Quit smiling like that. You look like a love struck fool,” his Tandem complained. Dutch grinned wider.

“Oh, don’t be such a lemon-sucker, Jive. Here, go get us a room and yourself a girl,” he said, tossing his companion a pouch of coins. Jive sniffed indignantly and slanted a look at the blonde pirate.

“As if I’d settle for one of your slow, addle-witted human mates. Get yourself a room. I’m going to be enjoying myself tonight, and I won’t be doing it anywhere near this cesspool of yours,” Jive said, tossing the purse back. “I still don’t understand what you see in this place…” he said dubiously, looking around the thriving streets with suspicious distaste. Dutch simply chuckled to himself and shrugged.

“I suppose it’s a human thing,” he said. Jive sighed and shimmered, and a sleek red fox took the place of the man.

I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, He said wordlessly to his Tandem. Enjoy your decadent little city. And with he was gone, slipping through the crowd as effortlessly as water.

Deciding to do a bit of roving before he snagged a room for the night, Dutch moseyed over to an old favorite pub of his, carefully keeping his stance confident and unyielding to discourage potential muggers. He pushed through the doors, looking around surreptitiously as he made his way to the bar. He noisily greeted several old acquaintances and colleagues, and after he’d grabbed himself a pint, fought his way over to join their table. A round of off-key singing met him as he sat, and it took a few verses of raunchy lyrics and friendly jabs before anyone actually get around to talking. He drank his ale, letting his old friends catch him up on their unsavory lives, all the while keeping an eye on his surroundings. It would be dangerous not to, in this town.

A ‘working lady’ came round eventually, and, settling herself in Dutch’s lap, made herself available, but Dutch preferred women he had to chase, and didn’t need to pay. He smiled at her and passed her off to another at the table, and noticed an altercation at a nearby table between a rather self-assured young lady and an very drunk man. He snorted as his keen ears picked up his utter rejection, and noticed the large white wolf at her feet. Judging by the way she referred and spoke to him, he assumed she was a Native like himself. He leaned back and smiled. It had been a while since he’d met one of his own kind. Quickly getting another mug of ale from a passing wench, he bade goodbye to his companions and made his way to her table, careful to stop far enough back to keep the wolf at ease.

Offering her his most charming smile, he offered her the alcohol. “May I offer my admiration on a most entertaining and well delivered dismissal, miss. It’s always nice to see sharp wit in a pretty woman,” he said, giving her a small wink.

[Giselle Danielle]

Maverick looked back toward Giselle, very displeased.

The men here smell like droppings. he complained. Everything smells. I'm pretty sure I'm laying in what used to be someone's dinner.

Giselle did not respond. She didn't want to be there, just as much as he didn't want to be there. He only stayed because he didn't trust she could handle herself, which was silly. Though, it was a bit easier with him around. He easily intimidated those who confronted her and kept many nuisances away. Her eyes glanced upward as a voice, clearly directed toward her, reached her ears. She observed the man, noting the smile and the offering of alcohol like she was some sort of goddess. The usual routine when some man wanted to get a woman drunk so he could sleep with her. He didn't even fail on adding a compliment. She had a feeling he had done this many times.

Maverick went to growl, but she shushed him with a small nudge with her boot. The wolf looked at her irritably, yet stayed silent.

"Why, thank you." she said politely, standing to take the mug from him. "It's always nice to hear a man who knows how to speak clearly. Most of the men around here mumble."

Given, it wasn't a large compliment, but Giselle wasn't known for her compliments. She wasn't known for conversation, either. If she had enough alcohol to loosen her tongue, she may have said that he was quite good looking himself. Though, she didn't plan on taking enough for that.

"Please, sit. You gave me ale, I shall give you a chair."

Maverick looked at her as if she were an idiot. She ignored him. She didn't plan on making friends, or getting into someone's bed. The man held promise of being entertaining. Already she was mildly amused.

[Dutch]

Although the woman didn’t giggle, blush, or immediately jump into his arms, Dutch was pleased enough with her reaction. He decided to take it as a good sign that she didn’t dump the drink down his shirt. Wouldn’t have been the first time…

He grinned and chuckled a little at her answering compliment, casting a glance around at the pub’s male occupants.

“Yes, well, enunciation does become a bit tricky when you’ve consumed your own weight in alcohol,” he said. He vaguely tried to remember the last time a woman had complimented his speech rather than one of his more obvious attributes… curious. Was she shy?

He smiled wider at her offer to join her, and inclined his head toward her as he sat.

“A gracious offer, m’dear, though admittedly I think it an unfair trade. I merely gave you ale, of dubious quality, I might add, whereas you grace me with your charming, desirable company. One wonders what he might do to remedy this imbalance,” he said inquiringly, resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, eyes twinkling merrily.

[Giselle Danielle]

((He makes me laugh, haha.))

Maverick's nose began to sniff the man's boots. He immediately picked up salt and calculated that the man was from the sea, a pirate perhaps. He didn't like the man. He knew what he was after, and he was sure Giselle knew too. He simply hoped his Tandem was interested in amusement rather than actually giving the man something he did not deserve. The wolf rested his head on his paws, eyes constantly watching what he could from underneath the table.

Given his looks and manner of speech, Giselle was quite certain that many women had fawned over him in the past. She was not one of them. Neither was she used to the compliments he gave her. She viewed herself as average, not the belle of the ball nor the witch of the swamp. She did not see her company as charming or desirable, so it left her at a loss for a witty response.

"Well." She paused, taking a sip from her ale before resuming. "You're quick with your words, I'll give you that." She was shy, though she did her best to hide it. She rarely dealt with men in such a manner. "You claim that there is an imbalance, though I do not see the fault as yours. You're more charming than I and certainly more handsome than any of the men in this room. If the scales have been tipped, it is I who is lower."

Maverick, again, looked at her like she was an idiot. Again, she ignored him.

She could have a bit of fun every once in a while. She rarely allowed herself the pleasure of ale. Men were something that occurred rarer than the alcohol. Once more she took a sip, smaller than the last. She didn't want to get drunk, she had a mug before his gift. She wasn't a lightweight, but a couple mugs of ale was all she could handle.

[Dutch]

Dancing a little inside as the woman sat in silence, obviously at a loss for words in the wake of his legeritous flattery, Dutch allowed himself a very small smile. He took pride in his amazing complementary abilities.

His smile soon disappeared, however, it’s place taken by a surprised twist of his lips as his eyebrows shot up so quickly they seemed to instantaneously vanish at her counter. What on earth? Didn’t she know how the game worked? He plucked out a few of her more pleasing attributes, complimented them, and then she blushed and called him a handsome silver-tongued devil, and then somehow her underwear mysteriously disappeared. He wasn’t used to his rules being turned around on him.

His shock didn’t last long, however; ever quick on his feet, he grinned broadly at her, and inclined his head.

“My lovely girl, you do yourself an injustice! Your honesty is in fact quite charming, much more so than a false blush and idle banter,” he said jovially, beaming at his newfound playmate. How long had it been since he’d had such a deviation in procedure? Eyes taking on a teasing glint, he leaned forward conspiratorially. “Though I must admit, I fear your eyesight is failing. I’m quite sure that dashing gentleman in the corner would easily be considered more handsome than I,” he said as quietly as he could and still be heard over the din of the pub, pointing surreptitiously at a haggard, pockmarked dockworker glaring unpleasantly out from his corner.

“However, if you insist upon an imaginary imbalance between the desirability of the present company, then perhaps you might simply tell me your name, for I‘m sure the title for a creature beautiful as you would be a grace on my ears,” he said, smiling attractively and favoring her with another small wink.

[Giselle Danielle]

She would easily agree that she was different than most of the other girls. She didn't take any joy in finding a nice pair of dress shoes, or finding a splendid dress that gave her bosom a flattering appeal. No, she wore the clothing of men and acted like one of them. To be spoken to as if she were beautiful was something she was not used to, not in the least. Men generally acted as if she was one of them, and spoke in such a crude and harsh way that would make any beauty blush with embarrassment. She was curious, however, as to how this little game the pirate was playing worked.

She leaned in when he did, not uncomfortable by the closeness of his face. She oftentimes had to breathe another man's breathe to intimidate him enough to follow her orders. Her eyes followed his finger and a small smile crossed upon her face before she leaned back.

"To some, perhaps, but I think he's got a knife in his back. He doesn't look too happy." She paused as he spoke, doing well to keep the blush off her face as he complimented her. Though, the smile widened. "Giselle." She responded simply, not sure what else to say other than her name. "And what is the name of the pirate before me, who is oh so good with his words?"

She knew that he was probably use to a woman falling for him in moments, ready to bed him at a moment's notice. He was good with his words, and she knew this wasn't the first time he went after a woman. She knew exactly what he wanted, and was almost tempted to give it. Though, she had a feeling Maverick would literally chew her ear off if she did. The poor canine was clearly not happy. He always was protective of her, a bit too much.

I don't like this man, Giselle. I know you know what he wants, but I still would much rather you give it to another. He smells. The wolf turned to look at her. Not saying you would of course....but, I think I'm better off leaving. Maverick stood and stretched. I'll be back tomorrow morning.

Maverick gave the pirate one good look before padding away, out of the tavern and onto the streets.

[Dutch]

Dutch cast a pleased glance at the girl as she located the fascinating gentleman he referred to. Not having expected her to so carelessly breach the customary distance barrier between strangers. Taking advantage of the few unwatched moments, his eyes quickly roved her profile; Gods, she was a pretty thing. And it intrigued him that she dressed in such masculine clothes, rather than something a little more flattering to her obvious figure. Not that he objected to her roughed exterior. Combined with her spiky attitude, unpredictable actions and slightly disheveled hair, it made her appear… wild, something that appealed to his own nature.

Elbow still propped on the table, Dutch half-closed his eyes and smiled as she told him her name. “Giselle,” he repeated slowly, rolling his tongue over the word. “It seems I was correct; only such a pretty name could be worthy of as fascinating a lady as you. Sadly, my own name is far less pleasing - most call me Irritating Scallywag, but I do prefer Dutch,” he answered, grinning toothily at her. “And I find I am only so verbally talented when I have such ethereal inspiration.”

Dutch paused for a moment as the white hound beneath the table moved, and he recognized the look on Giselle’s face; it was the same he often had when mentally conversing with Jive. He watched, unsure of how to react, as the wolf stood and left the pub alone.

He frowned slightly, casting an apologetic glance at the remaining Tandem. “It seems I may have offended your Tandem. Would he perhaps forgive me if I bought him a steak?”

[Giselle Danielle]

And again he was at those compliments. Each word was so carefully chosen, yet they seemed like they simply rolled off his tongue. How could a pirate be so good with words when poets oftentimes have trouble finding the right words to choose. She was intrigued on the man's past, but she knew better than to pry of such things on first meeting. Perhaps, if there would be a second occasion, she'd ask then.

"Why, thank you." She bowed her head ever so slightly. Dutch wasn't such a bad name, though she didn't think it best to say so. She didn't have Maverick there to tell her when she was being stupid anymore. "Oh, don't worry about him. He's far too protective of me. But, I think a steak would brighten his day considerably."

She had no money to buy him a steak. They often caught their meals. The rabbits around the Assassin's Cove tasted horrible, however. Then it dawned on her, he had known that Maverick was her Tandem. She had not met another Native upon her travels, many stayed with their tribes. If he figured out what tribe she was from, than she hoped that he wouldn't press her about the horses. The stallion in the stable next door was worth more than a hundred steak dinners, but she would not sell him.

"So, if you know he is my tandem, than I'm assuming you're a Native as well?"

She took a sip of her ale slowly, trying to think. The mug of ale from before had run its course through her system. Her eyesight grew slightly fuzzy. Time to stop drinking. She could control herself, for now.

[Dutch]

Grinning broadly at Giselle’s insight, the pirate inclined his head. “Indeed, I am, m’dear. My own better half is off romping in the forest somewhere; he doesn’t particularly like Assassin’s Cove. Too many things that can eat him, I think,” he chuckled, noticing the slight flush to his fellow Native’s skin, belying her sober appearance. He smiled to himself. A gentleman would allow the lady time to recover her wits.

Glancing outside as though suddenly worried for his absent Tandem, Dutch gave Giselle an apologetic smile. “Actually, I probably should be looking after him at the moment. It’s unwise for a little fox like him to be running around here at night, especially when I’ve insulted a big white wolf,” he teased, flashing her a wink. “I fear I must take my leave,” he said, rising to go, but paused, as though a thought had suddenly struck him.

“I wonder if I might persuade you to join me for dinner tonight? After all, I do believe I owe your companion a steak,” he asked, trying to angle himself to show off the muscles present beneath his gaping white shirt while looking innocently enticing. He suspected she’d agree, but it never hurt to take precautions. He fixed her with a hopeful, baby blue stare that had rarely let him down.

***

Jive slinked through the shadows on the outer edge of the vile town, glaring furiously and irritated with himself to no end. He was being stupid and he knew it. There was no reason he couldn’t simply run off and leave his perfectly capable Tandem alone; each of them could enjoy themselves better alone anyways. Try as he may, however, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss; the air felt wrong today. A deep-settled unease had settled in his gut and prevented him from enjoying himself.

He was worried for Dutch.

Shifting into his human form, Jive walked through the dense streets looking like he was on his way to kick someone’s face in, which served the dual purpose of discouraging thieves and predators, and allowed him to grumble darkly to himself about death and murder without drawing uneasy glances.

He stalked into a local “merchants” store and glared at the two customers who happened to be inside with such unadulterated malice that both of them immediately cleared out without a second glance.

Turning to the shopkeeper, he closed his blazing eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself down before speaking.

“I need a favor, Cam,” he said, and when he looked at the man behind the counter, rather than being frightened, the man appeared to be rather amused by the fox’s antics.

Cam snorted. “What’s the matter, Jive? Dutch’s pants gone and gotten himself in a mess his charm can’t get him out of?” he asked in an unsurprised manner.

Jive gave the man a small smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Actually, though, we’re in need of a customer. We need a lucrative job, and fast. I have a feeling it could be dangerous for my Tandem to be here long,” he said quietly. Cam nodded knowingly.

“Mmm. Well, I’ll ask around. Come back tomorrow, I’ll let you know,” he told Jive. The fox inclined his head and left the shop, turning down an alleyway and shifting back into his natural form. Immediately he felt the sense of unease intensify; he was always more susceptible to these things as a fox. Instinct could be such a bother sometimes.

Trotting along, he made for their ship, planning to track down his Tandem later at one of his usual haunts. Right now, though, he wanted a good, strong drink, and not that vile ale the humans served in this cesspool. Dutch had a stash of hard rum, brewed by the Natives up in Rou’Mourna, and Jive had full intentions to help himself.

[Giselle Danielle]

She smiled softly, immediately knowing how Jive felt. She despised the Cove, and there were certainly many things that could kill her or take advantage of her. Yet, her appearance of such self-confidence usually kept people alone, and the white wolf that was usually by her side was oftentimes a good guard. Yet, he had left, and she was worried herself. Maverick had been with her through everything and knew how to kill just as much as she did. She missed him, even though he was nearby. She missed him so much...ah, it was the ale talking now.

"Ah, I wouldn't be too concerned." She said, waving her hand dismissively. "He doesn't go after foxes, or anything other than a rabbit or deer. They're his true food, and he's usually good at figure out what animal is a tandem or not. I doubt he'll bother him." Though, she couldn't help but allow the smile to fade as he stood to leave. Really, already? Again, the alcohol.

However, the disappointment was hidden just as quickly as it had came as he spoke again. Her eyes moved toward the open flap of his shirt and for a moment she forgot he was watching her. My, he was ripped. She almost wanted to poke him, to see how stiff the muscles really were, of if they were even real. Her eyes flicked up to his and instantly noticed the new stare he had given her. How could she say no? It looked as if it would break his heart.

"Of course, how could I say no?" She asked, the last two words slurring very slightly. "I'd be delighted to join you this evening."

However, she did not notice the scowling woman who sat in the shadows not far away.

~~~

Maverick snarled and growled toward anyone who drew too close. He didn't like the people here. They were unfriendly. A woman had opened the door to the tavern, which had allowed him access outside. She was the only one he didn't snarl at and it wasn't because she had opened the door. She had looked so angry that even his snarl would have been a mere whine compared to her glare. And he thought he was angry.

Once or twice the large wolf was pushed or kicked, earning a rather irritable sore on his side as he padded off to the docks. Damn idiots. And a damn idiot he was too, for allowing that pirate to stay with his tandem, his sister as he lovingly called her. He knew she had bedded men before, but they had been fairer men. Men that she couldn't possibly fall for, she had only been using them. But this Dutch, she wouldn't be using him for anything.

He sat at the plank of one of the ships, pirate ship by the looks of it He didn't care, simply thinking quietly to himself. Oh, how he longed to be back on his native land. He missed riding the horses who had grown so accustomed to the white wolf who turned to man. He wanted to see the plains again, to see a real forest, to sleep in a tent where you could hear the hoot of every owl. He sighed, homesickness replacing the anger.

An old scent came to his nose and he looked up, surprised to see a fox padding leisurely down through the crowd and towards the docks. A Tandem by the looks of it. Why would any animal be outside in such a place? He needed to speak to another native...it would be nice to talk about home.

A shimmer consumed his body and soon a tall white-haired man stood where the wolf once was. His clothing was made of black leather and loose too. He would have roamed naked if he could, yet Giselle had forced him into clothes, even the boots that stuck to his feet.

"It's been a while since I've seen a tandem." The words came from the man's mouth as he watched the fox approach. His voice was deep and a bit raspy, as if smoke had burned the inside of his throat. "And I have to say, stranger, it's rather nice to see you."

[Dutch]

Dutch felt a hot little rush of self-satisfaction as Giselle’s eyes were drawn to his exposed flesh, and it only increased as his trusty ‘puppy eyes’ came through for him once again. It was a lucky thing he was so irresistibly gorgeous; he didn’t know how on earth the less attractive people got by.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and smiled at her with genuine relief, and was slightly surprised at himself. Frowning internally, he shoved the unusual feelings to the back of his mind and focused his attention on the slightly intoxicated woman before him.

“Splendid. I’ll meet you by the docks at ten, or so,” he said, already planning a perfectly romantic dinner on the deck of his ship, and devising excuses to distract her Tandem for the evening. He doubted a simple steak would be enough to persuade him to relinquish his companion for the night to the likes of him. Bowing gallantly, he took Giselle’s hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it, keeping his eyes locked with hers and winking again before relinquishing it.

He straightened and took his leave, pausing just as he opened the door and looking back to his new companion, smiling brightly at her before exiting the pub and making his way aimlessly down the streets.

Now alone, his thoughts turned inward and he revisited the strange rush of unease he’d felt. He recognized the slight tightening in his stomach as worry, and tried to remember the last time he’d been anxious of a woman turning him down.

It had been a while.

He mentally shook his head; It’s because she’s so unpredictable. He thought, justifying his unease. It isn’t as though I’m losing my touch, or anything. All the same, he couldn’t help but wonder what he would have done had she refused.

Scowling to himself, he made his way to the nearest butcher shop. He had a steak to buy.

***

Jive’s keen eyesight and nose picked up the trace of the large white wolf sitting in front of his ship long before he reached him, and he was unsurprised when his body slid into the form of a human. Jive slowed his approach and eyed the man cautiously. Even in human form, he looked like a wolf - a predator to the core. His voice even carried the wild nature of the woods, rough and primal.

Jive remained in his natural state until he reached the Tandem, and sat at the man’s feet, staring up at him evenly. Deciding he risked no further danger in human form than he did as a fox, he shifted into the willowy, wild red-head that served as his second body, his neutral colored linen clothing hanging comfortably from him. No sooner had the change completed than a wave of nostalgia washed over him, and he smiled at the human-shaped wolf. All this emotional business was always stronger in his human guise. Stupid humans.

“It is indeed, friend. I’m afraid I’ve been isolated from my own kind for too long,” he said, extending his hand. He felt an unreasonable camaraderie with the fellow shifter; as a Tandem, he had a foot in both animal and human worlds, but a grounding in neither. It was a bit difficult to relate to any member of either species fully, save for Dutch. And Dutch could be unbelievably irritating sometimes.

“I was just about to help myself to some good, old fashioned Rou’Mourna rum. Care to join me?”

[Giselle Danielle]

She nodded at his words. Ten, she wouldn't forget it. She watched him as he kissed her hand and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Stupid girl, she thought bitterly to herself. Yet, she smiled toward him as thanks before he took his leave. When he turned to face her at the door, she averted her eyes quickly and took interest in her ale. He was putting on an act for just one thing and she needn't get her heart in the matter.

So, why did he plan on meeting at the docks? Ah, yes, he was a pirate after all. He'd probably wanted to take her to his ship. She loved ships, yes, but the ocean wasn't too kind to her. Her stomach rolled over at the thought of standing on the deck as the ship rose and fell with each wave. She paled at the thought and quickly pushed the mug of ale away from her. It was then that she noticed the woman who had taken Dutch's spot.

"Yes?" Giselle asked, smile fading as she looked at the woman.

"I heard you were the best one to ask." The woman began, anger dripping off her words. Giselle didn't think the anger was necessarily directed toward herself, so she kept calm. "And even better that you're a woman. I want you to kill a man for me."

"For what price? I don't do favors." Giselle watched the woman closely.

"Here's fifty gold pieces." The bag thudded in front of her. "You'll get fifty more once the job is done."

Giselle pushed the bag away, silently wondering how a woman in the Assassin's cove could earn 100 gold only to spend it all in one spot. She thought it better not to ask.

"I only take the money once the job is done. Who am I to kill?"

"The bastard who was sitting here moments before, Dutch." The woman spoke his name as if it were a poison.

Giselle grew silent. No! Don't do it! You know you don't want to do it, listen to me! The voice at the back of her head pleaded. I killed that pleading part of me the day my tribe died, begone. She responded bitterly. I need the money. I love no one but Maverick, and this Dutch will be sad to go only because he is entertaining. But by no means is he a friend. The words floated around her head, yet with little confidence. It was as if she didn't even believe herself.

"He'll be dead tomorrow morning." Giselle spoke the words slowly, as if she was thinking very carefully. "If he's not, then you'll have to find yourself another assassin. If I want to kill someone, then I do it."

"He better be dead tomorrow." The woman sneered before standing and leaving the tavern, leaving Giselle alone.

Giselle's happiness had left and she simply sat there, thinking to herself before a sigh escaped her lips. Did she want to do it? Of course she did, emotions were never attached. Where was Maverick?

~~~~~

Maverick looked down at the fox before that all too familiar shimmer appeared. Maverick had seen it from Giselle, yet it had been a long time since he had seen it from anyone else. He was silently pleased. It was easy to become friends with another tandem, he felt like they understood. He had always had that pack instinct, and it had always told him to stick together.

His smile widened at the fox's words and he took the man's hand, shaking it happily. He felt foolish, slightly, like a pup again excited to see its brother to romp and play.

"As have I." Maverick nodded. "And yes, please, thank you. I haven't even heard the name Rou’Mourna rum for so long."

He almost wanted to say 'thank you' once more, yet Giselle had always reminded him how over grateful he tended to be. So he stayed silent with that same smile on his face.

[Dutch]

Throwing a scowl over his shoulder back at the butcher, Dutch let the door fall heavily shut and hoped the stupid hinges fell off the next time someone opened it. Maybe it would prevent them from being robbed blind.

Honestly! What does the man think, his steaks are made of solid gold? He grumped to himself as he stalked through the streets again. Stupid butcher. Stupid steak.

Sighing, he slowed his gait and shook his head. He looked around, taking in the dirty streets and ramshackle buildings, the failing shops and thriving criminal guilds, and smiled ruefully to himself. What are you fussing about, Dutch? This is what you love about this place - it’s infested with greedy, self-serving criminals just like you. It was true; here in the Cove, surrounded by the dregs of society, he felt less worthless. It made him feel more valuable, more important than the poor, angry vagabonds and gutter tramps. Gods, you are some creature.

He sighed again, with more amusement than gloom, and chuckled to himself. Look at you, fool. Pirates are not prone to introspection. It’s bad for business. Quit moping and get moving, or you’ll really be moping later on tonight - when you’re alone.

Lifting his head, he continued walking, focusing on planning his evening to perfection.

His rotting soul would still be there for inspection later.

***

Smiling even broader, Jive released the wolf’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Why, you poor creature, come right this way. We’ll have you fixed up and blazing drunk in no time,” he joked, and led the way onto his ship. He vaguely tried to remember the last time he’d felt so unreasonably buoyant, simply from the company of another. Probably not since the last time you saw a Tandem, he thought wryly to himself. It was a curious thing, meeting another shifter. Sort of like encountering a missing limb you weren’t aware you’d lost.

Pausing outside Dutch’s cabin door, Jive glanced at the wolf and grinned a little, “You may actually want to wait here a moment, I’m afraid I can’t guarantee your safety in this room. I think there may be a giant squid hiding under the bunk,” he said, then steeled his features and straightened his spine. “Wish me luck,” he said bravely, and dove into the room. Quickly reaching into Dutch’s trunk and opening the hidden panel at the bottom, he retrieved the blessed alcohol and the shot glasses resting with it and retreated, shutting the door behind him and exhaling deeply.

“A worthy prize,” he exclaimed, holding the bottle aloft and grinning. Very distantly he knew he was being silly, carefree, almost, which was drastically out of character for him, but he found he was in too good a mood to care. At least Dutch isn't here to see you, he thought. He'd never let you hear the end of it.

((OOC: The woman spoke his name as if it were a poison. Whoo, i got shivers, lol. ^.^))

[Giselle Danielle]

Giselle entered her room. The roar of the tavern became a dull rumble as she closed and locked the door. The room was barely bigger than the stall her horse slept in. The two beds took up half the space. The large tub of water barely fit at the foot of her bed and their baggage was squeezed into a corner. It would do. A bed was much better than the ground of a forest, yet the latter had much more room.

Her hands moved quickly as she removed her weapons. First came the sword, than the two daggers from her belt. The throwing knives kept in both boots were placed carefully beside the larger blades. She lined them up on the bed, examining each one closely. Satisfied, she began to undress. Once bare she settled herself in the tub, cursing as the cold water engulfed her. Needless to say, the bath was rather quick.

She changed into a new white shirt, yet the rest of her clothing remained the same. The vest, pants and boots were all the same. She attempted to manage her hair and ran a brush through her hair. She wasn't surprised when the locks stuck up in random directions again. It was near impossible to tame it. With a sigh, she plopped down onto Maverick's bed and laid down to stare at the ceiling.

Maverick. She called, concentrating on the link between them. Long-distance was difficult. At ten tonight I'm meeting Dutch, but I've been asked to kill him. I'm still deciding if I will or not, but we need the money... She paused, but he didn't respond. I'll let you know. Have fun.

She sighed and didn't get up. She simply laid there and thought. She was being silly, he was simply another man. Another man to kill. Nothing more and nothing less. But, it was so rare to find a man as entertaining as he. Perhaps she could just kill him after, after everything. When he was asleep, all she'd have to do would be to break his neck.

~~~~

Maverick laughed as the fox spoke about getting blazing drunk. It had been ages since he had even done that. Giselle disliked getting drunk and disliked taking care of a drunk Maverick afterward. She probably wouldn't want to take care of him in the morning, but Maverick knew that she would. She had a very good recipe for a hangover cure, something she had found in her mother's journal. Her father used to get drunk a lot, perhaps one of the reasons she disliked it. He pushed the thoughts out of his head, returning to the present.

"Well then." he said, feigning the look of worry. "I wish you luck, please come back safely." Then the fox was gone, yet quickly returned. "A very worthy prize. I'm glad to see you safe and sound."

Maverick. At ten tonight I'm meeting Dutch, but I've been asked to kill him. I'm still deciding if I will or not, but we need the money... Giselle's voice wafted into his head as low as a whisper. His smile faltered for a moment, Giselle never hesitated on a kill. What was going on? I'll let you know. Have fun.

He didn't like the way she sounded, it concerned him. Was she developing some sort of feeling for the pirate? Absurd. He didn't know the Pirate was a native, so it never occurred to him that the fox in front of him was his tandem. He pushed the thoughts away, the smile returning to his face. He'd worry about it later. Right now, it would be rum.

"Oh, gods, I forgot. My name is Maverick."

He had forgotten formalities. He was usually in his wolven form, and whenever he was a human Giselle had to remind him of his manners.