a meeting of sorts (Cyrus)

[ryn]

In a dark colored cloak she moved around neutral territory, Ria didn’t pay attention to the details for she had been here many times before. The journey had long since been etched deep into her mind, she could’ve walked the path blindfolded. Then again, someone of her position needed to know their way around. Already she knew of those both friend and foe, which she could trust, and those she was better off avoiding altogether. The trader’s town was an unusual place of both humans and natives alike. Normally she felt comfortable walking among them, but on a day like this it was best not to draw attention. Wrapping her cloak tightly around her she pushed on, it helped to conceal her face and normal clothes. A white tunic, and a dark colored pair of shorts. People knew her look well, especially the crossbow that always hung securely from her back. Clipped to her side she had her favorite hand gun. While she didn’t prefer using it, Ria had to admit that it had come in handy on several different occasions.

It would be foolish to leave it behind now, even though she didn’t need to bother with her expected company. But the two of them always seemed to get in trouble like small children. Yes, today she would be meeting Cyrus. Every once in a great moon they would get together and chat, over just about anything. Ria couldn’t remember how it all began really, but it happened one way or the other. They had a deep hate and love relationship that often confused her trusted followers, and yet she couldn’t even begin to explain. It was as though they had grown up as best friends but far too stubborn to try to get along with age. That was the best way she could think to describe it.

Of course they were still at war, that would never change. Ria had long since given up on changing his mind. She’d only ever fought him once, but nothing really came of that. They both had their own strengths which made them just about even in battle. Their only differences came from the fact that Cyrus was immortal. She had never quite gotten over that, one day she would be far too old to fight her side of the battle, and then of course he would win. But she couldn’t think of that just yet. She still had time after all. Finally Ria found herself at the same old inn, a sign up above hung down. Even with all the small comforts, all the territories were in disrepair. Maybe one of these days they’d be fixed, pushing the door inward she moved swiftly inside.

As usual Ria headed towards the back, there was a table there where they could talk without being heard. Rumors spread like wildfire in the trader’s town, and it was best to keep this kind of matters well hidden. At least the room was dark with poor lighting, that was another thing they’d have to fix here. But even so, Ria kept her hood up as she waited. He’d be along any second now, and placed her feet up on the table she leaned back in a chair.

Word Count: 541

[Cyrus Moore]

He strode down the street toward his usual meeting place with Annamaria with a sort of arrogance only he could possess. Cyrus didn't bother wearing disguises as his cohort usually did as it did nothing to help with hiding who he was. His walk was far too recognizable as was the way he held himself. So unless he wanted to be stopped and asked why he was acting so unlike himself and trying to hide who he was, he walked without a cover. His pace was fevered and full of intent. No one stopped him as he passed them, not even his worshipers, they merely bowed and watched as he passed.

To see Annamaria again, he smiled at the thought. She was a good friend of his, though their ideals were so different that he wondered if she would ever see his side of things. He knew that one day he would defeat her and all the other humans, they couldn't continue on forever like he could. He would eventually destroy them, and bathe in their blood. A cold smirk curved his lips at the thought of blood. A twinge of the Burn returned, flaming up in his veins. The mere thought of the sweet crimson liquid was enough for his mind to fog over. And he had just drunk too.

His hand fell to his hip holster which held both his Winchester and his dagger. His thumb traced the wooden grip of his gun. He shrugged his white coat closer, the wind was out with ferocity today. The black t-shirt underneath was hardly any good at blocking out the wind, though his black jeans were pretty good at that. So over all he wasn't terribly cold, save for his face and hands. He shoved his hands back into his pockets and turned to shoulder open the door of their meeting place and slipped in.

Cyrus's eyes scanned the area until they landed on a shrouded figured in the corner. The way she sat told him it was Ria. He maneuvered around the tables and found his way toward the back, never once did his hand leave the pocket of his jeans. Only once he sat down in the chair across from her did he take out his hands and kick out his legs in front of him on the floor and crossed them at the ankles. His hands came up to lace behind his head. "Hello Annamaria," he loved her full name. So beautiful and it rolled off the tongue so nicely. "How are you this fine day?"

Words: 435
Muse:AWESOME
Song: Set Fire to the Rain- Adele