Drop-in

The crewmembers that Tzesira talked to hadn't any idea where their leader actaully was - they gave her a list of possibilities, but she wasn't about to chance him across the fucking city, and she kind of liked the ship anyway. She kept out of the way long enough for them to start to ignore her, then slipped in to Hanrak's cabin to wait for him there. He'd turn up eventually, she knew, and she settled down to meditate, leaving her senses open and her mind empty.

Hanrak strode angrily onto the deck of the Black Wing, crew scattering. Their master was obviously in a poor mood, and none wanted to risk his ire. His expression was as dark as the blade from which they took his title; even Calora gave him a wide berth.

"Damn the Nhalloth," Hanrak thought again, largely lost in his own thoughts. The matriarch of his House and clan had demanded he stay close to the city yet again, chastising him even for his short voyage to Highmark weeks ago. Some danger was stirring, he knew it, and it should be his and his people's place to meet it, not to cower here in their coastal stronghold.

The captain violently opened the door of his cabin, coming up short when he spotted Tzesira meditating. Despite his mood, his face broke into an eager, if somewhat predatory, grin.

If the sound of the door slamming inward hadn't brought her immediately back to herself, the palpable force of Hanrak's energy crashing in to the room would have done so just as quickly. Her eyes snapped open, a smile forming to match his. "Thought you'd be fuckin' glad to see me..."

Hours later, Hanrak lay atop a pile of bedding that had somehow made its way to the ruins of...his table, he thought. Myriad bruises and scrapes joined his many scars, but he paid them no mind. A lazy grin brightened his usual dour countenance as he regarded his guest.

"So, what brings you to Issenvik?" he asked finally.

Tzesira sat up, stretched out her arms, winced, then grinned back. "I think you broke my fuckin' wrist." She winced again as she flexed the joint in question, then shrugged, lying her hand in her lap. "Just coming back from the temple. I wasn't in any huge fuckin' rush to get back to Highmark."

"Any wound is a story," Hanrak offered. "We've healers among the crew, Zyna can sort it out."

One eyebrow raised slightly at her explanation of her presence.

"You're not here for your guild? And here I was wishing for a good fight."

He surveyed the cabin, shattered furniture scattered about.

"Well, more good fights," he added.

She shrugged, not really concerned about her injury just yet. "Well I'm not here for the Union, but that doesn't mean I can't point you at a good fucking fight.... if you think you're up to it." She smiled smugly, knowing full well he would rise to the challenge.

He smirked, realizing she was goading him, but Hanrak was in the mood for a challenge.

"I think I've proved I can rise to any occasion. What did you have in mind?"

"Yeah, well, you probably wanna keep it in your fuckin' pants for this one." She smirked back, giving him a playful smack with her good hand before turning serious. "I told my Masters about you when I was home. They said you could come, and test yourself there. When you feel you are ready."

To the extent his grey skin showed it, Hanrak paled.

"The monastery of H'rih'keth? That would be...quite the honor."

He was quiet a moment, contemplating it.

"You traveled halfway across Nerath to invite me to test myself?"

"Heh." She rand a finger along his ribs where the skin was starting to bruise black, but she knew he was being serious - and so he should. "I told them about your eye. They said it was a good start." She paused though, because there had been a reason he'd been on her mind then. "I also came because... The last time you saw me, I disgraced myself and... it pissed me off, to leave shit like that."

Hanrak's face remained passive as he looked up at Tzesira.

"You mean leaving so quickly after you and your companions' triumph? It was strange, I'll admit, but I assumed you preferred to avoid the accolades of those you didn't respect."

She scowled without meaning too. She thought she'd come to terms with her performance during the fight, but his comment about 'accolades' drew forth emotions that indicated otherwise. She tried to breathe away the annoyance, but it lingered and she frowned more deeply. "Fuck. No. Just pissed at myself. I was too fucking excited before, and after my mood just went to shit." She shrugged.

Hanrak sat up, again raising an eyebrow, waiting for Tzesira to continue.

She eyed him back, uncertain what more he wanted her to add. After brief consideration though, she elaborated. "There's a difference between winning and losing, and a good fight and a bad fight. Having a bad fight is one thing - having a bad fight when half the fucking city is watching you is another. Of course the Thunderbolts fucking won. But it still felt like a bad fight for me."

"So the victory for your side was meaningless because it wasn't contingent upon you?"

Hanrak frowned, considering.

"You led your team into the fray, and you were instrumental in dividing the enemy forces. The vanguard which falls to ensure victory is no less lauded than the main force which reaps it."

She flexed her injured wrist, hoping the sharp jolt of pain woulds abate rather than feed her burst of annoyance.

"I didn't travel halfway across Nerath to be lectured on things I already fucking know. I said it felt like a bad fight. I've had time to get my shit together since then."

"Congratulations. So what did you come halfway across Nerath for?" he inquired.

Tzesira looked her companion in the eyes for a moment as though she were stalking some secret there. In fact she wondered if something was lurking behind is impassiveness, if he'd just spent all of his passions for the moment, or if there was something else there she wasn't quite grasping. He'd been furious at something when he'd thrown open the door of his cabin, and she'd been happy enough to let him pour it all in to her. But where was it now?

As no answers seemed to be forthcoming from those black depths, she sat back, and shrugged. "I wanted to apologize. You're right that there was almost no one there whose opinions I gave fuck all about."

Hanrak held her gaze for a moment, his expression stonily impassive. At length, he rose, stretching, his wiry form crossed with scars.

"Not there, but here?" He turned, a small smile on his face.

"I think I will take that invitation. I may have a few things to prove myself."

She watched him as shamelessly as he preened, and grinned, slowly.

"Well, and least I don't fuckin' have to worry that you'll go in there thinking that 'winning' has anything to do with it."