Amusing the Ever Greedy (Cass)

[Albossk]

So it came to be that darkness fell upon Coldmoon. Vlad, so gently, swirling a glass of wine, had already had more than his fill of the uppity, irritatingly polite nerds who had the gaul to call themselves 'high society'. A smirk. He had half a mind to go through each and every one of their belongings, pockets and rooms and lighten their loads. The night, though, was far too young for such games on the...dare I say...innocent. Surprisingly, his inception into the ball had been less than spectacular, and not nearly as difficult as he'd expected. Maybe the two went hand in hand, that might explain a few things.

His hair, no longer rustling in the breeze, no longer drift gently on the air as he peered languidly down into the garden. There had been a time when he'd loved flowers, loved plants. Even considered taking up druidism...though that had been a really, really long damn time ago. The faux duke sighed, running a hand over his slicked back, emerald lockes. How he despised having tamed hair. What was he getting out of it? There had to be a catch, something...anything to make it worthwhile.

Their hostess? The girl was almost a pain in the neck...the very definition of 'high maintenance'. Not the kind of chick you want to keep around for very long, not without ludicrously large wads of cash around as well, anyway. Or...perhaps not without a securely locked safe and far away bank account. How ironic, as that had actually been one of his primary goals in actually coming...though from her letter, he'd been expecting someone somewhat more...sweet. Was benevolent pushing it?

And Elle. Sweet tap dancin' zombie jesus on a pogo stick, what the hell was that woman doing here? He'd nearly had a heart attack when he'd come face to face with the woman, her emerald eyes sparkling with that same old mischievous glitter. Yes, she was the same old Elle, and that was what had had him at ease. She knew his games, knew he liked to run with the devil and tease and torment others to no end. What a girl she'd been. Lucky guy, that Aderyn. Strange, how now he couldn't even conjure up an insult on his elfin-ness. Maybe he was getting soft. Maybe he just gave a damn about the woman he was with. Either way, his mind strayed further, back to Tirisfal. Back to Hazudar. He should've brought the big guy. Though an orc, what sane guard would refuse a Duke his loyal bodyguard?

He laughed aloud at that, that innocent laugh that betrayed his age, that laugh that melted hearts. Or...so he'd like to have believed. Truth was, there was no telling what he thought. Not anymore. Growling lowly, the human took a bronze hand to his hair, destroying that perfect, beautiful, blue-blooded creation. What was left was something like grass, perhaps the leaves of a plants. Whatever the case, the strength of his pure barbari blood was obvious. The elves weren't the only ones with funky dos.

The rogue had spoken with Cassidy a bit earlier in the evening, drolly demanding her delightful company. After all, there had to be a catch, non?

Hopefully it wouldn't turn out to be a catch-22.

[Cassidy Al'lende]

Truth was, Cassidy hadn’t expected that many guests to come. And while she knew the basis of many balls were to continue, begin, end many business propositions- she hadn’t expected one from Duke Vald. She had merely heard rumors about him, and quite curious- she sent Tabitha writing an invitation for the lord. Cassidy wasn’t exaggerating when she thought of her bitter distaste for the lord. He looked like he had just rolled off a haystack, stolen lords’ clothing that either was too big or small for him, either way- it just did not suit his deposition. Whatever the case, Cassidy wasn’t pleased with him. She was disgusted by his horrible taste, his ungraceful words that sputtered off a surely drunken tongue, or Cassidy thought. This was her second time out in the gardens, and the first was quite eventful, she could only hope this time was as such.

She felt her silken gown slithering past smooth, cool thighs as it cascaded down in almost liquid pools of silver blood. The tall elf shivered, and looked up at the moon, which seemed brighter then when she was with Stephan, ironic- she’d probably need the light to guide herself from him. Sighing in annoyance, she wondered what the pompous ass wanted from her. Cassidy omitted a tiny giggle at that, sweet and husky in the quiet hum of the gardens. That they did, the orbs of light, which illuminated the mossy green forests made a soft, but not unpleasant hum, slightly like the call of insects. Cassidy inhaled the ever so sweet scent of foliage, candles and slightly exotic faint smell of wine. Cassidy swirled her wrist, and the crystal wine glass in her hand twirled, the bronze wine inside of it, along with it. She’d figured she might need it.

Her gelded curls, (which appeared almost white in the moonlight) bobbed momentarily as she walked, hips swaying slightly, silvery blue eyes gleaming, giving her an almost a glowing appearance. Her scandalous red gown appeared to flush, and blaze along lithe, revealed curves and femininity.

The night had gone ever so wonderful as of yet, for the exception of a woman named Nell running off in a dramatic exit- Cassidy wondered what had become of her. Shrugging, absently- Cassidy paused, looking down to examine a flower that attached to the trellis, in which the whole garden was based around. She tugged at it, and cursed softly when its thorn pricked her thumb. “Damnation,” was the entire supple, slender elf muttered as she wrestled with the damned plant, rouged, reddened lips pursed, until finally- the rose fell, limply to the floor. Cassidy put both hands on her hips and glared at it.

[Albossk]

Flower petals drift lazily from his hand, dancing in the darkening's gentle breeze. Spinning, falling, drifting to the ground before being carried away once more, they reminded him of those irregular, idiosyncratic facets of his life, floating lazily under the night sky. Dreamily, his gaze fell to his feet, messy hair drifting gently, much like the petals before them. It mirrored Vlad, his hair, as it does with most people. It was him, and he was it. There was no denying that, for it utterly consumed him, that much was evident in the way he walked, the way he talked and the way he wore his clothes.

Turning, he'd nearly given up on the woman. Fortunately, her nearly showy, somewhat gaudy rose red cape gave her away. Apparently, it hadn't been her, rather him...drifting lazily in idle daydream. Maybe it had been a combination of the two, but Vlad it was, perhaps, speak with someone before casting final judgement on them. Though Cassy was the type one might easily draw a surmisation from by simply looking at her. Hosting a ball like this was one of those things that gave them away. Ulterior motive? Not likely. She was expensive. She was childish. She was even on the clever side...but she was still didn't seem quite that vicious or wise, to set up something so extravagant for a motive other than political gain.

He smirked, the idea that not everyone thought the same as him occuring quite suddenly. Sniggering quite amusedly, the human found his way to her rear (quite the pleasing angle, I might add, though the scrawny elven blood left something to be desired), smiling genially. Hardly the overly sensitive or polite type, the human had to resist the desire to give her a pinch or a slap. Strange, really, how some found such trivial signs of affection offensive. Though occasionally sexual, when Hazudar gave him a good slap, Vlad doubted (or at least he hoped) the orc was trying to jump his bone. Drinking her in for a moment longer, he spoke casually, not bothering with formalities. First opinions where always most important. After that, if they don't want to sex you up, why bother? Besides, he'd seen more meat on an elven salad.

"Damnation, indeed. Or at least that's how it looks from this angle, he grinned, the outlandishly lazy look on his face like something out of the an elfin 'leafchaser' poem. He'd admit, that was one thing he definitely liked about them, those elves. They could toke it up with the best of em, and better yet, it was actually a part of their culture! Not enough to make up for their shortcomings, but a good start. Definitely a good start.

Smiling, his head cocked to one side, was it possible he was actually, dare I say, interested?

[Cassidy Al'lende]

Cassidy shrieked. A shrill, feminine squeak that interrupted the sweetened air, and humming gardens. She swirled, and greeted Duke Vald, (The least of whom she expected at this moment) with wide, crystal eyes and full rosy lips parted ever so softly. Staring at him, like he was daft, Cassidy’s hand fell absently to her young bosom in surprise. ”Oh” she whispered, ever so soft her voice like a syrupy treat, it nearly dripped off that silky tongue. She swallowed nervously, and cast a lungful glance towards the manor. Perhaps meeting the Duke wasn’t such a wonderful idea, and Cassidy wondered if the handsome lord was a rake, probably. Cassidy flipped her hair, raised her head and smiled politely. His words, which were less then polite made her want to stutter, so it took her a moment to consider the right words. She found none. The bastard.

Cassidy sighed, and looked back to her pricked thumb and without a thought put it into her mouth, and walked without the Duke. He made he uneasy, and Cassidy seemed to always be in control. Perhaps it was the Duke, or his roguish behavior that had her so disheveled, but she was suddenly self-conscious. A woman attired in a less then proper, curve clinging, deliciously revealing her slender and supple curves, could not possibly be self-conscious. Well damn him, he made her panicky. She tugged at the silken gown, that radiated silver pools and darted eyes just as bright to the Duke.

“Why, Duke Vald…” She purred, and sent him a charmed, winning smile and admired his eyes vaguely. “What have I the pleasure of meeting you,…” Cassidy’s eyes drifted towards his less than regal appearance, “…Your…” Cassidy stuttered, and wondered how she could view him respectively, “Grace.” She burst, and furrowed her golden eyebrows with annoyance. She would take this smoothly, and so the very attractive, curvy elf sent him a flirtatious glance, “Yes, what are you doing here.” She said, very ungracefully.

Cassidy growled a curse.

[Albossk]

Hmm? What was this? The cold, unfeeling immortal was a woman after all? He laughed. He couldn't help it, and the amusement showed. Still, Vlad was hardly the type to let a woman like that get away. Hardly. As a matter of fact, that she turned away in such a huff instead of giving him a good tap on the head or the usual slap was enough to get him mildly aroused, if not interested. And that ass! Jeezus...was he having second thoughts on his own, steadfast ways?! Softly, slapping his face, Vlad sighed as he took a deep breath and took the plunge into darkness, perhaps forever lost in a sea of evil.

Catching up, the foolish, foolish...stupid...human strode casually beside her, his formal coat flapping gently in the evening breeze. Feeling at ease made it so much more simple, the cool air lapping against his bronze cheeks in a willowy, shady garden. With a noble air (though no fault of his own) he pulled a few messy lockes of hair from his face, giving the silence a moment to settle in. That had always been the simplest course of action. When in doubt, let the environment, let the location do the talking. Then simply follow up with a witty retort, bed 'em and be done with it. Still, he doubted this one would be quite so...so...red blooded?

His own winning smile deflected hers, the near sensual curve in his lips flexing and bending in a perpetually animation. Expressions...he had a million of them, and a million more faces saved for situations just like this. A thief of hearts had to play his cards just right, or he'd wind up with less than nothing and more bruises than those just on his ego.

"Cass'dae Al'lende," he chuckled, tugging at his not-so-regal-as-everyone-else's sleeves, "mmm, charmed. And I apologize for my comment. It was rude of me to speak directly of your backside without...proper introduction."

He only peered over at her then, benevolent amusement the order of the day. Or night. Or whatever.

[Cassidy Al'lende]

Cassidy gave a sharp fake laugh. What in the world was wrong with her? Cassidy swallowed and sapphire eyes gazed hungrily for a place for her to be rescued, or some wanderer in the gardens who would be charmed to be escorted by the hostess herself. She found none, and Cassidy had a deep temptation to claim illness, that the fresh air could do something awful to her complexion, they were womanly excuses, used often enough, she could get away with it, while still looking prim and proper. But he intruiged her, and Cassidy did have a reputation for finding the mysterious ones. But the Duke wasn’t mysterious, just blunt, and sexual. He had marvelous eyes, a fine physique- Cassidy wanted to laugh at herself, what was she doing?

Looking at him through midnight lashes, Cassidy measured her chances of actually enjoying their conversation which might take place. 10 to 1, she’d end up huffing away and asking her plentiful guards to kindly escort him from the manor. And that’s why she stayed, why the smile that twisted her lips was so ironic. Pardon her, but she loved a good brawl, almost as she loved an ungraceful romp- which, she thought bitterly, couldn’t happen…atleast not tonight, she had an image to uphold, and besides…Cassidy thought, absently touching her gelded hair, littered with red feathers and diamonds, she’d ruin her hair. Her dainty fingers grazed the sharp pin that helped keep the exotic due up, and she remembered Stephan and her encounter.

Stephan backed off soon enough, she wondered what Vlad would do.

Nevermind the though, Cassidy didn’t want to find out. Sighing, she listened to Duke Vald, refusing to look at his lips, which (in her opinion) were perfect for a man…they were of an appropriate size, not too big, but enough to cling too… Cassidy cursed, however…she wouldn’t know this- for she refused to look at them. Bastard.

“Yes, it was quite rude for you to speak…” Cassidy’s eyes widened, as she said the words hesitantly- obviously terrified they’d bite her in the same backside that Vlad was admiring, “Of my…” Without an appropriate word, she whispered, “Sit-upon.” And without another though, Cassidy found refuge on an iron cast bench, and didn’t hesitate to drop her plump sit-upon, on it.

[Albossk]

Vlad had to admit, the girl was, in her own way, fascinating. The blue blood. The huffiness. The obvious interest in the...less than noble sorts. It all made for one rather interesting personality, one which he enjoyed rather thoroughly. She was the kind who could hold her own in a fight, both physically and verbally...as long as she knew what she was up against. Yet, judging from the way she took to hiding her rump, it was obvious the two were in desperate need of getting more....acquainted. He smiled at this, gently, casually biting his lip, knowing all too well what his chances of not totally offending her were.Yet, about 10 to 1 it seemed, or at least that's what the little voice in his head told him. But then, that little voice was also the one that wanted him to go over there, throw her over his shoulder and cart her off into the night. Fortunately, he'd learned to ignore that voice.

How the other nobles treated her was of no concern to him, for luckily, he didn't have a drop of blue blood in him. Or maybe it was just that he'd lived far too long in an environment where it was okay to treat women as objects...because they did the same of men. Here, only one half of that seemed true, the latter. She was vicious, and that evil half of his brain sighed longingly in knowing it, for it was him. More than he cared to admit, it was him. But damn her, how difficult she made it with her constant retreats, darting from here to there. His smile fading into something far more pleasant, the calm look of understanding, he took a seat beside her. Maybe she'd planned it out, his eyes cocked interestingly as he pondered her, leaning back...that didn't last long. He looked away from her, her hips, her legs, cursing gently, silently. There was something to be admired, he'd found, in an elven woman with plump, soft legs...though that was a really, really bad time time to take particular notice. God she hoped there wasn't enough interest in her to take notice of his gaze. Most women, as hypocritical as they may have been by it, despised men pondering their assets in conversation.

Stretching his hand longways across the back of the bench, it reached behind Cassidy, but just barely. He'd angled himself perfectly, not too close, but close enough for it to be made known they weren't on a business trip waiting for a carriage...unless that carriage was for their honeymoon. Sighing wistfully, he peered out into the garden with a profanely alluring smile, the look on his face like something out of Rogue Playgirl Monthly...an idea he'd have to explore a bit more later. Perhaps recalling the look on her face when she caught his innuendo, perhaps just thinking of those damn legs again, with the next best thing besides staring at them like an idiot.

"What's the matter, Miss Thane?" he conjectured calmly, almost casually, "I hope I don't upset you with my childish ways, it really doesn't suit that ungodly beauty of yours."

He paused, looking down, pulling the emerald locks from his eyes, back behind his ear in a wholly feminine way, eyes close. Then again, all it took was a moment more than a cursory glance to notice things about people...something he longed for in Cass'dae. A bit on the skinny side, by my god, with legs and hips like that, there had to be other things your average joe would miss in your average lust.

Whatever he would do, he seemed to go about it rather well.

"Don't tell me you're angry at an...innocent compliment..."

God he wanted her.

[Cassidy Al'lende]

Cassidy tugged fretfully at a lock of gold spun hair at the nape of her neck. She avoided all contact with him, but appeared not anxious, but rather annoyed. And she was, she was annoyed that he didn’t make her angry like the other men. But in a sense, he did! It was all so baffling, and Cassidy crossed her supple arms stubbornly over her round bosoms. Sighing quickly, absently, Cassidy’s eyes viewed the elaborate gardens in front of her, and instead of her true feelings; (Which involved frustration and rather an apprehensive view of Duke Vlad), she appeared cool, and prepared. Good, he deserved it.

"What's the matter, Miss Thane?" He questioned, and Cassidy swore he was taunting her. She had the grace to politely correct his grammar, “What is the matter, Lady…” Cassidy sighed, “Protectress” It was true, Cassidy wasn’t yet the Thane, and that was a whole different subject, in which Cassidy hated to join in. She dismissed his compliment with an absent wave of her dainty hand, and murmured a sugary, nonchalant “Mmm.” Before she turned to look at him.

And she saw him basically devouring her with his eyes. Bastard. The way his lips were upturned with almost a pompous, arrogant grin. Damn. She wanted take the pins that she had used to rid Stephan and puncture… Cassidy looked away quickly from his hungry gaze. Why couldn’t she do something outrageously effective? Like spit an icy remark, or leave him rudely in the gardens, or perhaps… Oh, it was useless. This was certainly putting her in an unfair place. He had the advantage, at her Ball, in her garden, on her bench! Well that solved it. She’d put him at a disadvantage.

“If you could not sit on this bench, I’d be in your debt.” She eyed him sweetly, her sapphire eyes twinkling, as she looked to the bench a few paces away, “And not there, or there,” she said pointing to the other nearby bench. Cassidy shrugged innocently and looked away, giving a charming smile, and resting her hands on her willowy womb.

But even that didn’t hide the devilish twinkle that radiated from those azure eyes.

[Albossk]

He laughed. The girl was great, she really was. Her sighs... the calm, cool way she told him to @%^# off. Still, his own arrogance may have rivalled her own, though perhaps in a different way. She was annoyed, that much he could tell, but what was there to be done? She was a pain in the ass, but she was an alluring pain in the ass. He grumbled, but inwardly. What was wrong with him? This girl...was cramping his style, she was shooting him down (harshly) and kicking him around. Though it may have seen the other way around, they were fighting on two different scales. His for affection and her's for pure victory, to whatever end women like her angled for. He grinned, once again inwardly. Maybe...just maybe there was a way for both of them to win. It had become rather obvious that she loved men whom she could dominate. Too easy.

Looking quite sad, he stood, half a frown on his face. Resisting the urge to 'move' from the bench right onto her lap was tough, but he managed. Hell, he was having a tough time just getting up and not moving any closer, just to defy her. This girl wouldn't be won over with simple antics and ploys...he'd have to be somewhat more subtle. More, dare I say, classy? Though it went against his nature, he peered down at her in a wholly unsexual, almost apologetic way.

Funny, as much as he hated to admit it, he found himself honestly, at least somewhat, apologetic. Standing before her was even more difficult, simply because...well...it was her, and he wanted desperately just to walk away and leave the pain in the ass of a girl to her own devices. If she was pissed, so be it. But then, looking at her...dammit. He cursed, wincing inside, desiring nothing more than to look away, but every second it grew more difficult. Harder, his breathing quickening. Damn her. What, what what was this woman doing to him? He should've been pissed at her arrogance, the way she took his words and saw them as an excuse to condescend him.

Turning away, he crossing his hands behind his back, pacing a few, slow steps away from her before pausing, gaze rolling from left to right and back again over the garden. Would it be too much to ditch her into the foilage and think nothing more of the woman? No. Absurd. An absurd idea, unless of course she was ducking with him.

"Lady Protectress...of course. How silly of me. ...And...where would you have me sit, princess?"

He was setting himself up, putting himself at her mercy. If she knew better, she'd feel honored. Or maybe she wouldn't, if he knew her better. Times like these, he wondered why the gods put him through such suffering. Why he was always sent the evil ones. For once, what did it hurt to have a gentle, sweet girl with a, gasp, sense of humor? Even if it didn't rival his own, she could at least have one. But no. He gazed into her eyes. He had to get the one's with that, wicked, wicked twinkle in their eyes. The sadistic kinds.

The Cassidy kinds.

[Cassidy Al'lende]

Her lips were twisted with that same wicked grin, the ‘Cassidy’ one, where her eyes twinkled and her nose notched up a just a tad aristocratically. Crossing her arms, she sighed innocently. “Anywhere?” She inquired softly, the words basically purring off the soft tongue. And she spied him through spiky, black eyelashes that cast dramatically on her fair, smooth cheeks. “Well, I understand that,” she remarked quietly, “A gentleman doing a woman’s simple request, how…” Cassidy hesitated, gazed at him, admired him for a moment and popped, “chivalrous.”

It was obvious that the witch ignored any sincere apology in his voice, and was using him with her sensual, flirtatious way to amuse her…maybe it would work. Rising from the cool, iron bench, Cassidy stood beside him, too close for propriety. Smelling faintly of vanilla and foreign wine, if Vlad could ignore the other scents of foliage, Cassidy gave him a sincere, sweet smile. Radiant, however…oh so rare. “Do you please all of the women you’re with?” The innuendo was said innocently, though her eyes darkened momentarily before she took his hand and pulled him up the walkway.

Hips swaying, and tiny hand clasping his, while the woman guided Duke Vald through the shadowed trellis, liquid light cascading through leaves and plants, pouring into pools on the cold, marble floors. And she led him before a mighty garden, filled with bushes and exotic flowers, vines crawling about a loud stature. A stature that was gurgling water that splashed delectably onto the lower regions of it, a flat surface like a shallow bowl, filled with two inches of icy water.

“There.” She said simply, dropping his hand, but not before giving it an encouraging, warm squeeze. Her sapphire eyes were reflected on the calm water beautifully. She returned his gaze, smiling softly, innocently. It would seem as if Vlad found her sense of humor.

[Albossk]

His brow cocking as the woman took his hand and dove off their meeting spot, onto a slightly more obscure path. He could tell she was having fun...more fun than was probably healthy for him, as a matter of fact. Maybe it'd been a bad idea to of found her, to even have got her attention in the first place. Judging from her clasp on his hand and the rate at which she moved...well, maybe not. Maybe things would turn out...more than mediocre. Maybe sometime he'd tell her how badly she needed a wenching lesson...someday...when she wasn't quite so pretty...and dangerous. Or maybe just less dangerous. He was still on her turf, after all.

Peering about, admiring the scenery (though it's questionable what in the scenery), Vlad found himself somewhat more at ease as they stopped. He almost, almost, looked around before she spoke, but froze. Froze dead. No. No way. No freaking way.

Oh HELL no.

It wasn't like he gave a damn about his clothes. He'd just stolen them from some sap of a clothier anyway. But that wasn't the point, dammit. Giving in, okay, playing pretend obediance, yeah he could do that...but this. This! So like a woman to take smart, verbal harassment and turn it into physical harassment, simply because they didn't have the brainpower to get the better of their betters on a higher level. So sad indeed, but so common amongst females. He sighed. It was too early to get kicked out of the ball for sticking the hostess in a puddle of freezing water, and yet, it was too late to make a complete ass of himself. Ah yes, conundrums indeed.

He laughed. He smiled.

"God you're a pain in the ass," he chuckled out, the grin on his curvacious lips in pure, undiluted humor. What if she really was a witch?! "do you torture all the men you're with? Or just the one's you like?" he smiled, the sexual nature associated with his come-on's almost completely gone, save for the rather cute way he went about calling her a pain. Would she dare deny it? If she did, she could just as easily get on the floor...'cause she'd be lyin like a rug.

But, wait. Was that her scent he'd caught a whiff of? Or just her humor? Why, it seemed awfully suspicious, but he supposed he could let it slide. Maybe she would, too.

[Cassidy Al'lende]

Cassidy giggled at his lude comment, it really thrilled her more then offended her. She liked this game, it was enjoyable, not to mention very amusing. "Oh, only the ones I like." She murmured huskily, and sent him a flirtatious flutter of her eyes, and they darkened. "But, I only seek out those who are brave enough for my challenges." She arched a golden eyebrow wryly. "This is the time of your life, Duke Vald...where I decide." And she grinned wickedly, her oh-so-kissable lips turned in a trying, charmed smile.

She glowed when she did that, with satisfaction, pleasure, amusement. Her skin gleamed, her eyes were bright....

"Don't hesitate," She called softly and she crossed her arms. A few seconds passed and the azure orbs lowered modestly and she polietely said, "Well, if you truly do not want to, I understand..." she sighed softly, and appeared actually appologetic. She looked up and sent him a kind, serene smile. "do not do anything you wouldn't like." She shrugged mildly, "But I'd hate for you to have to stand."

Indeed, the wench wanted to play a game. And she was not as innocent as she claimed.

[Albossk]

Rolling his eyes in a mildly amused kind of way, Vlad smirked. She was getting an awfully big kick out of making him look like a fool, it almost left one to wonder if she had played these kinds of games before. Unfortunately, it seemed he'd have to wait his turn to move. Not much finesse. Removing an errant strand of hair from his eye, he smiled warmly, took a deep breath... and resisted dunking her in a fountain.

Folding his arms over his chest as if in mocking, he eyed the water, eyed Cass'dae.

"Pfft, who's eyeing whom?" he said, her eyes, sinking down before flashing back up. Why that dirty little hypocrite! He had to restrain laughter, "you know..."

Silently, with a pause, he took a step forward, lessening the distance between the two by the most miniscule of amounts.

"If I didn't know better..."

He was grinning then, the amusement on his lips and in his eyes as he took another small nudge forward rather handsome, in a weird sort of way. Maybe it just worked well with him, looked good on him. Either way, he'd closed a smaller bit of distance.

"...I'd say you were trying to make a fool of me."

He was closer again, and by then, he'd closed just about all there was to close between the two. Of course, he had his own scent, one that became all the more clear with each passing second. It mirrored their earlier closeness, though with somewhat more feeling this time. He didn't move further, no, merely stared at her, almost pondering. No, he wasn't the type to be pushy, be it in jest or in romance or even in a simple little game...of which, what was this?

A good question indeed...

[Cassidy Al'lende]

Cassidy’s eyes blazed, her lips were splayed in a sensual, immoral smile. She found herself in the same situation as she was with Stephan, though she couldn’t help but find the humor in it all. Duke Vald intrigued her she rather liked the human. His eyes twinkled with mischief, and Cassidy wasn’t sure whether she wanted to dismiss him now or after she had, indeed- made a fool of him. She’d chose the latter. “Pfft, who's eyeing whom?" And although he made her want to scream, she retorted solidly, “I gaze at those with the same amount of passion in which they gaze at me.”

And Cassidy returned the favor, her expression sinful.

Lady Al'lende turned, and escaped his heavy eyes, her round hip resting slightly against the cool, iron benches. "...I'd say you were trying to make a fool of me.". And at that, her slight sobriety faded, and was taken over by a beaming grin. And the pretty elf laughed, “I wouldn’t say I have to try.” And she realized what she had said after she had retorted it.

Damnation! What was she to say now?

And while their talk was of amusing references, it was totally improper for her to speak to a Duke in such a way. Hastily, she modestly caught his eyes, “Forgive me,” She almost whispered, like a tamed wildcat, “I mean no offense,” And she raised her golden head, lips full, nose stubborn, but those cerulean eyes still withholding the devilish smirks that she displayed so openly.

[Albossk]

"Ah, back to sitting now are we?" Vlad found amusement at the sudden turn of the tide as two whom would be the one sitting, and whom would be the one laughing. Twining his fingers behind a well-curved backside, he turned away from her as she sat. Admiring the foilage. Ah yes, what a dork. But then, I, your humble narrator, never claimed otherwise for his little hero, did he? And therein lay the humor. He had no great battles to be fought. No great wars to be won. All that mattered in his life, at that very moment...was just that. The seconds. The moments of his life that he could feel. How to explain it?

Pivoting, the simple, foolish mortal of a human couldn't help but admire the woman who was no less mortal than he, and when the similitarities end there, well...there's bound to be trouble. He did, of course, recall the many hypocrisies of women. It was okay for her to look at him, for she was sexual woman. It was not okay, however, for him to look at her, for he was nothing more than a pig of a man. Yet, she still controlled nearly every aspect of the process.

It was like playing blackjack against a casino. The House makes the rules. The House wants to take your money. You play against impossible odds, always hoping to come out on top. Yes, with enough skill and luck, it is possible. But there's a catch. A horrible catch. In one way or another, the House always wins. They put you through the gauntlet, sometimes degrading you to the lowest of low, and only let you think you've won when really...you haven't even made a scratch. That was the tragic scenario. As long as they can keep you playing, keep you believing your amused, keep you from turning a cheek...they can live happily.

In all honesty, he controlled nothing. Yet, with luck, as I have said...there is always a way to manipulate the cards. Even a false euphoria is better than none at all.

"Oh ho, no offense? Oh please...I'm sure you'd much rather see a duke wet himself in a bird bath than curtsy him and pretend to give a damn about his title and the laws of etiquette," if he wasn't chuckling before, he was then, standing before her, his ass yet unsoaked. His words, strange for a duke. Most would usually flaunt it, forcing their power over the woman who was, as she pointed out, not even Thane.