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@irishcelticredflowercrown

Ohmygoodness, that was hysterical! I laughed so hard!

Liorah has been trying for the past hours to offend Lorcan as much as possible but hasn’t gotten beyond mild annoyance, and Sahar and Acyn had one (1) friendly conversation and embarrassed, offended, and confused him beyond reason and I think that’s beautiful XD

The girl – Sahar was it – seemed to have a level of optimism that was akin to spouting rainbows and unicorns.

Yeah, that’s accurate XD

They seem to have this talent for driving every conversation in the most random direction possible XD

Ahaha, let’s see what happens next!

Acyn

I watched with extreme amusement as Lorcan was literally struck breathless by my suggestion. It had been mostly sarcastic but he apparently hadn’t picked up on it. This was even better than I thought.

He stared from me to Sahar, trying desperately to hide his bewilderment. He was utterly flabbergasted. Flabbergasted was one of my favorite words and I felt a hint of satisfaction at being able to use it.

Finally, he turned back to me and stared me dead in the eyes. Oh, staring competition? I could win this one, without a doubt. I stared right back at him, barely raising an eyebrow.

“I wear it because it is forbidden for anyone to see my true face,” he said, softly, trying to sound intimidating but succeeding mostly in sounding as if he had bronchitis. I didn’t comment on it. It was rude to antagonize people within the first hour, a lesson Liorah had yet to learn.

“As an assassin of the High Queen, I must conceal my identity from those who wish to kill me. Which is basically everyone I have ever encountered. I am her Royal Majesty’s shadow – and shadows do not have faces. Those who are unlucky enough to happen to glimpse my face, I must immediately dispose of them. That is my code – it is what is required of me.”

At least he was committed to his persona. Phantom ranger, faceless shadow, must dispose of everyone who glimpses his face. He had really spent some thought on this.

I barely suppressed a smile, which was both nervous and genuinely amused. The situation was somewhat hyperbolic and contextually ridiculous, but he was an assassin. Theoretically.

He glanced back to Sahar, who looked slightly scared. That was a nice touch. He really was putting a lot of effort into this, it would be rude to disappoint him. Sahar was nothing if not an excellent actress, and by extension, an excellent liar.

We had both succeeded in reassuring him that he was sufficiently frightening and he straightened.

“But the dramatic effect is a welcome bonus,” he continued. “It helps me get the job done.”

Did he just frighten people to death? That sounded scientifically unfeasible. I needed Sahar’s help on this one.

“Does dramatic effect fall under science?” I asked, under my breath.

“It’s an art, so I guess not,” she whispered back.

So it didn’t need to adhere to science, but to the guidelines of art. That made sense. Perhaps the guidelines of art included people dying of drama. Or he might just use the swords. Either way.

Now convinced he had established his persona, Lorcan nodded in my direction, confidence completely restored. That was a pity. Seeing him flounder had been amusing.

“And you? Boy with an interest in green blood. What do they call you?”

His questions were vague and inaccurate, and I immediately set about correcting them.

“My interests extend well beyond green blood, though the potential existence of a secondary oxygen-binding protein is fascinating, scientifically speaking.”

I barely checked myself before launching into an excited discourse about it. He wasn’t interested, and though that had never stopped me before, now wasn’t the time for that.

“Most people refer to me as ‘Hey, you’ or not at all,” I said, in complete honesty. “With the exception of certain of my friends, who are determined to refer to me only by exaggerated and continually shifting insults.”

Sahar giggled. We both knew I was talking about Liorah. To be fair, the determination was mutual, and I had come up with quite a list of creative and mildly offensive insults. We both appreciated it.

Lorcan seemed both impatient and confused. I raised an eyebrow and smiled. If he had wanted my name he should have asked for it directly. Taking things literally to the point of being ridiculous was a fine form of humor very few appreciated, so I added,

“But you can call me Acyn.”

Sahar had sat still for almost eight seconds so she bounced up from where she had settled on the boulder and spun in a circle, either surveying the area or admiring the swirl of her skirt, I would never know.

Finally, she stopped dizzily.

“Odd place,” she commented, cheerily.

The landscape was indeed nothing like the city I was used to, and not even like the desert.

“So it seems,” I agreed. I absently untied the ties that held my sleeves up. My arms and fingers were stained with black splotches of ink, but the ties meant my shirt had stayed relatively spared.

“Would you be kind enough to inform us for what purpose we have fallen here?” I asked Lorcan.