Glamorous -closed-

[Talon]

(I have to apologize for the title XD it was the first thing that came to mind when I thought of Nagendra. It has absolutely nothing to do with the plot going on here; also apologize for this work below I was running short on muse so I rambled. Since I'm very not happy with this post I'll probably revise it if you can't reply soon.)

The sun was sinking low. There was absolutely nothing spectacular about its setting. Darkness simply set in as the light began to dim. Yellow rays from the sun tried desperately to shed their light as they sank below the horizon. Soon enough the bluish edge of dusk rushed in to overcome the sun’s last attempts to remain and night set in. Pravus was ready for the dark; he already had a small fire going with several bits of rabbit roasting on a spit over it. If one wasn’t careful night would catch you unprepared and leave you lost. The well trained soldier knew better and had already set up his small part of camp. He didn’t use a tent, Pravus had slept through rainstorms before and a tent would be unbearably now during the summer. So he simply had a blanket stretched out on the ground next to the small fire. There was a slight chill now that the sun was gone below the horizon, but the heat from the ground still remained and kept Pravus comfortably warm.

A short ways from his fire were two horses tied to long ropes. One was shorter and stockier, an obvious pack animal named Herc. However it was still well groomed and had a lively air about it. Pravus made sure to take care of the creature; after all it carried his armor and his numerous weapons. Wherever he went the rouncey came in tow, carrying the captain’s most beloved treasures. Next to the calm pack horse was a wild creature with fire in its eye. This was Pravus’ pride and joy, next to his armor that is. A creature that had been trained by the best horsemen in the Empire. It was a mighty warhorse trained for battle. The creature was a weapon all to itself. During battle one had to watch out for its sharp hooves and wicked kick. That horse had killed many men during battle and Pravus owed the creature a lot. It was not some friendly kid horse and had to be cared for carefully. Otherwise you would get kicked or bitten, but Pravus trusted the creature and it knew him as master. The creature was called Syrus, and he was a destrier to be proud of. Even now the mighty warhorse pawed at the ground, anxious to be on his way. Still further off was a smaller rouncey than Herc, and that was his squire’s smaller horse, Pip. A good creature, not quite war worthy, but he had a fighting spirit and could travel for days.

Peering to the side of camp Pravus was reminded why he was so miserable. Normally a mission out to the edges of the Empire was like a vacation. When the captain got a chance to pack his armor up on Herc and saddle up Syrus there was good times and battle to be had. Now, he was stuck with this foolish man. Well, at least he had his squire for some sort of conversation. The lad was sixteen now, two more years and he would try for knighthood. Pravus would make sure the boy was ready for such a challenge. Since he had come to work with and learn from Pravus he had grown mighty tall for his age. The kid would probably reach Pravus’ own height, which was saying something these days. Handsome young boy too, with deep green eyes and dark black hair, strong and very capable with a sword. Came from a good family. Kid’s name was Tristan Kiendell. A right fine knightly name and the boy did his work well. Today Tristan was just as angered with their company however. The knight and his squire had been throwing knowing glances to each other throughout the entire journey, each sympathizing with the other over having to share the same air as the man named Nagendra Ramakrishna. Pravus had spoken with Tristan earlier, discussing what they really thought this guy might be and wondering why in hell the man was sent on this mission.

After all, they were incredibly close to Varden lands. They were in the realm near Feinster, but drew closer to Melian every day. Word had come to Uru’baen that trouble was stirring, the people were close to rebellion and the leader of the small town was faltering. The man was facing the choice between being killed by his own people or betraying the Empire. That choice was easy for a man like Pravus, the people of his land would never dare betray him. It would be worse than any wrath the Empire would bring down. The Corripio holding held the loyalty of its people like none other. When Galbatorix had forgotten about smaller villages like Carvahall and let them defend themselves against urgals the Corripio’s had made sure to defend their own. They had knights and men at arms that were loyal to them, many villagers that gave a bit of their crops to support the troops and a decent amount of land in the great plains stretching between Uru’baen and Teirm. Should the Varden march on their small castle they would find a group of very angry villagers and fighting men willing to chase them off their Lord’s land. The Corripio’s might be crude, and at times cruel. But their people always knew what to expect and Malus Corripio was a just man. Tristan had grown up there and understood the importance of loyalty. The Corripio holding followed the Empire faithfully and now most of their fighting men were marching to war. Pravus doubted this Nagendra could understand what Tristan and he had grown up with. Foolish looking man with that make-up all over his face. How could he take himself seriously?

The whole lots of nobles were ridiculous. There were very few of them that Pravus could even tolerate. Save perhaps the ones that had been knights once upon a time. Men like is father Malus that had spent their younger years fighting and now took to the politics of this world as they must when age began to wear on them. This Nagendra didn’t look like he had a fighting bone in his body, and no Pravus would have to quell a rebellion with the man. The thought made his stomach churn. Honestly, he felt he would’ve been better off had he simply traveled with Tristan at his side. In Pravus’ eyes the squire was much more capable than this man. Then again, he had heard word of this Nagendra’s supposed mental capabilities. Well, Pravus would hold judgment off on that until he saw the man at work in this political craziness. If this noble’s politics couldn’t solve the problem, Pravus’ sword would. With a stern look the knight checked the bit of rabbit roasting and removed the spits from the fire. He handed one to Tristan and kept one for himself. There was one left, if that Nagendra’s guards or whatever hadn’t taken care of him yet. Pravus had his manners after all.

"Hey Nag, the rabbit is done if you're pretty noble taste buds can manage it."

[/color]


Well, sometimes he tried.[/blockquote][/size]

[Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress]

“Oh, damn,” I muttered, poking at the arrowhead lodged in my shoulder.
“Still don’t want the doctor to see that, milord?” asked Nazara emotionlessly.
“Absolutely! It’s disgusting! You said scars were attractive!”
“The women seem to think so, milord.”
“And lose this silky skin to such marring? Jarring? Or was it barring? Anyways, LIES! The punishment of LYING is to have your intestines ripped out!”
“I quiver with fear, milord.”
“But that would probably kill you. And the next ten minutes of my life would be full of grief. Then I’d have to go through the irritation of finding a new you!”
“How aggravating, milord.”
“Isn’t it? It’s simply essential… but not essentially simple! Away with your gorgeous tush! Get me that doctor person!”
“As you wish, milord.”

Nazara bowed stiffly, giving me a good look at the gorgeous pale sheen of his closely cropped blonde hair before leaving. I turned back to the mirror, glaring at myself. I had sustained the minor injury after overhearing several women at my court back home in Teirm- lovely, luscious Teirm, not these overcooked grasslands- chattering about how sexy men with scars were. After a bit of thinking, I’d realized I found them sexy too. Somehow, their broken skin showed power, strength, experience- and experience was looked favourably upon in my bedroom. Excited, I decided I wanted some scars myself, in order to attract even more men and women into bed with me. However, I hadn’t had the time to go about doing that, since Galbatorix had a job for me- to quell an uprising in Melian. And exactly why did I have to get my beautiful backside carted to that backwater dump? Because if I didn’t, he’d make Malandra divorce me!

Oh, the indignity of it all! Malandra was so beautiful, so perfect, so wonderful when it came to carnal acts. Marrying her would have been one of the best days of my life if we hadn’t gotten married at night. My life had been one enormous dance party since then, and all thanks to her genius. Galbatorix had to walk in and spoil it with duties like this, of course, and I wasn’t about to dirty the name of Ramakrishna when I’d worked so hard to become the one upholding it. And I didn’t have a son yet, at least, not one worthy of bearing the title himself. Besides, Malandra had some longevity potions going for her. I wasn’t going to give up the Seat of Teirm anytime soon. So, of course, I’d gotten the information- some mayor had been given an ultimatum between death and joining the Varden, or some other hoopla that I really didn’t care about- and I had to stop it. Joining me was one fine-looking soldier, Pravus Corripio. He was so powerful, so cruel, so sadistic… ooh, how I wanted him to beat me. He had to taste delicious.

I’d even asked him to be the one to scar me, once I’d remembered my need to acquire such beauty marks shortly before we’d stopped for camp, but he’d vehemently refused, showering me with insults and threats that had turned me on like there was no tomorrow. After he’d realized this, he’d moved to the head of the line and refused to speak to me for the rest of the trip. Saddened, I’d had to get some unattractive guardsman to do it for me instead. I’d asked for a wound on my shoulder. He’d taken great pleasure in shooting me, far too much- the injury had hurt! As a penalty for hurting the Lord of Teirm, I’d forced him to donate his brains for some brain pie I was cooking up for dinner tonight. Oddly, he didn’t move or speak again after doing this, and so I just had him buried and left for dead. The pie had been most appetizing, at the very least.

“You called for me, milord?” said a razor-sharp female voice.
“Ah, Malice! Won’t you fix this injury up for me, darling?”
“But milord, it’s so beautiful…” her green eyes were firmly set on the arrowhead. “It must be so deep and cutting and pleasurable…”
“Yes, yes, but it looks gross. Do your thing. Not… that thing, the- yes.”

Malice was an odd woman- with slitted pupils, dark reddish-purple hair and a very notable masochistic streak, she made for an interesting doctor, and often cut herself more than she cut her patients. That was sexy. So, I kept her around, even letting her partake in such oddities like licking up my blood before healing the wound and… other things that would make even me blush like a schoolgirl. I didn’t even begin to mention the things that involved removing the arrowhead, cleaning up the blood, and finally magically stitching up the injury. By the time she was done, Malice bowed as she retreated, slurping up the blood that had collected on her fingers and lips. Oh-kay then. Beautiful as she was, sexy as she was, she never quite failed to creep me out. Deciding to remove that particular incident from my mind, I turned to glance at my reflection in the mirror.

Ah, with that gross injury gone, I was as beautiful as ever. My long dark hair flowed around my shoulders, my lovely face enhanced and beautified even more with the help of makeup- thick black kohl to outline my eyes, oils to curl and thicken my lashes, dark purple lip pigments, and incense straight from my ancestors’ homeland in the east to allure and tantalize my lovers. I couldn’t resist from running my hands down my slender, tight body, feeling the smooth, lacy corset against my supple golden skin. It was deep purple, my favourite colour, and was the only proper clothing I had on- barring, of course, a thong of the same colour on my lowland region. Obviously, I wasn’t wearing anything else to better showcase my perfect rear. On my feet were lovely amethyst pumps, while my gloves, of the same rich hue, stretched past my elbows. I blew my mirror image a kiss, twirled around a bit, and fantasized about Pravus.

And then, as if my dreams had come true, his beautiful baritone voice called out, “Hey Nag, the rabbit is done if your pretty noble taste buds can manage it.”

A cute nickname? ‘Pretty’? An obvious invitation to go see him? Ooh! ‘Rabbit’ was probably some sort of euphemism for a sex toy. So he had just been too shy to admit his feelings of lust towards me on the way here! With a squeal, I raced out of my enormous purple tent- obviously, I wasn’t going to travel like a peasant- and burst out into the open, noticing that the sun was setting. However, I was more focussed on Pravus Corripio, sitting by a small fire with his unbelievably gorgeous squire, Tristan, seated beside him. Oh, so they’d gone all humble with the little fire. How cute! I pranced towards them, overjoyed. When they saw me, both jaws dropped in unison before they immediately looked away.

“No need to be shy, boys.” I stopped directly in front of them to give them a good view of my legs, and played seductively with my jewellery. “Peek away! Now, Pravus, darling, I hear you have a rabbit of sorts for me?” I licked my lips tantalizingly. “Let’s have a look!”

Words;; 1232
Muse;; AMAZING.
Thoughts;; AHAHAHAHA I LOVE IT.

[Talon]

“Sir Corripio?”
Pravus turned to look at Tristan. The young man seemed to have been biting his tongue for awhile now and the knight knew there was some question gnawing at the kid. Normally between knights and squires it was proper to speak with a knight using his family name and always tacking on a sir. However this was a practice Pravus rarely enforced with Tristan. The knight was the teacher and the squire was the student, but they were able to teach and learn respectively without the formality. So this was a subject matter worrying Tristan, otherwise he would have simply used the knight’s first name. Must be nervous about something, but Pravus couldn’t blame the young man. Being around this strange Lord of Teirm was incredibly unnerving. The orange-haired giant was having a hard enough time keeping his composure around the purple clad man.

“If you don’t mind me asking…what did Lord Ramakrishna ask of you today?”
“He asked me to stab him. Or shoot him with an arrow.” Tristan’s eyes went wide from shock and disbelief as Pravus spoke in an even tone.

[/color]
“Surely you can’t be serious Sir!”
Pravus sighed with a shrug, “I have given up trying to understand that…man…”[/color] No that sounded wrong calling Nagendra a man, it was an insult to the idea for some reason. Pravus knew only rumors of this strange Ramakrishna, but what he had heard did not speak manliness to his warrior ethos. “He discovered that scars can be appealing to women and felt like getting a few himself.”[/color]

Tristan grinned, white teeth shining, even at the age of sixteen the squire knew the benefits a few well placed scars and well spun stories could give. There was also a cruel gleam in those emerald eyes, yet another reason the young man worked well with the squire. “Well Pravus I wouldn’t have hesitated on that one.” The squire flicked a dagger out from his boot and tossed it straight into the air, easily snatching it by the hilt as it fell. “Would’ve put a wedge of biting steel right between those pasty ribs.”

Pravus couldn’t help but grin, his squire still had much to learn. “Oh? You would be so quick to give him what he wanted? You know as well as I that scars are earned. Granting fools’ their wishes can be entertaining to say the least, but it seems to always come back to bite you…especially when the fool in question is the Lord of Teirm.”[/color] The knight added with a slight whisper so that none of Ramakrishna’s men could hear.

Tristan’s grin became slightly more subtle as he nodded knowingly, made sense now that he looked at it that way. “Besides…a measly entry wound from an arrow? That just makes you ugly. Soldier hit from that is just dumb…woman don’t want any of that…”[/color] Tristan’s eyes lit up and he rolled up his pants to expose his upper thigh, for there was a scar to be proud of. Something earned during practice when a javelin had nearly gone through his leg. Thankfully it had missed the femoral artery, but it had left his mark. Not to be outdone Pravus lifted the shirt and bit of mail he had on to show Tristan his side. “Decent for a squire…”[/color] For there stretching diagonally from just below his pit all the way down to his hip was a wide braided scar. No magic had tended to it and it came from one of Pravus’ earlier battles. He had swung too wide, had not been wearing armor at an earlier age, the enemy had swung down attempting to split his head in two…the kull were quite capable of such a feat…Thankfully Pravus had twisted to the side and kept himself alive, but he had not gained enough distance and a good portion of the blade sliced his side open. “That’s why I tell you not to swing so wildly…leaves you exposed.”[/color]

Then there was a strange squeal from the large purple tent…that freakish and ostentatious purple tent…did nobles ever travel without some strange need to show off? The thing was monstrous and it smelled funny, looked more appropriate for a street fair than for traveling across the Empire. However, neither knight nor squire were worried about the tent when a strange figure came rushing out. Both Pravus and Tristan had turned to see what weird creature had made the noise, and remained frozen as they were as soon as they could clearly see Nagendra. The companions had been grinning before, but now Tristan’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened in some kind of strange horror. Pravus was able to control himself to a better degree; his grin vanished, replaced by a face of stone. His eyes darkened and he could feel actual bile rising in his throat.

Pravus had never seen anything like this noble. There was makeup lathered on the man’s face, black stuff outlining the eyes, some purple stuff on his lips…but that was to be expected from the noble. What was not expected was the ridiculous corset and…whatever that was on his lower region that barely contained the stuff of nightmares. Womanly gloves and freakishly tall shoes…all…he had to turn away, he couldn’t take any more of it. He felt himself gag slightly and had to force himself to remember his oaths and knightly ways. Nagendra was a noble…don’t show disrespect…but this…this was too much!

Off to the large knights side Tristan was still frozen in shock. The kid had seen clothes like that before, but never on a man. He had to wonder why anyone with balls would put themselves in those clothes. And then the squire lost his bearing, he was two years from knighthood after all. The young man’s frozen look of shock suddenly filled with laughter. His eyes began to tear and a huge smile tugged the corners of his lips, and then Tristan laughed. But only for a second, Pravus acted swiftly and quickly silenced the lad with a quick smack to the back of his head. The squire immediately shut up and turned away, trying to hide his further chuckles and wiping away his tears.

Now Pravus knew he simply could not look at Nagendra, but he had to try and do so respectfully, so he busied himself with retrieving the last spit from the fire. Even now this Lord of Teirm was…saying something about them not having to be shy…peek away? Was this man being serious?!? Pravus was disgusted he wasn’t shy. A woman in the clothes might be a different story, but this man? It made his stomach churn to even remember what his eyes could not unsee. That image would be burned into his mind from now on. As he retrieved the spit Pravus also nudged Tristan and pointed out a cloak that was not far off. It was stained from travel and a faded brown, something Nagendra would probably reject but Tristan handed it to his master nonetheless.

Trying to ignore the tone in Nagendra’s voice and desperately trying to block out the sound of the jewelry Pravus simply offered the rabbit to the noble. He kept his eyes looking at the fire and simply reached his hand back to where he knew Nagendra was.

“Here.”[/color] He spoke in monotone, “Tristan was able to take out a few coneys today and we didn’t know if you’d eaten yet.”[/color] Then with reluctance he turned to face the noble, keeping his eyes trained on the man’s face, since that was the most tolerable part to look at. Pravus offered the cloak as well. “And you should cover yourself outside of your tent. Might catch a chill and you never know when the Varden could be about.”[/color] Pravus really didn’t care about the well being of this man, he just wanted that purple corset covered and out of his mind.[/size][/blockquote]