Barbarians, tribals and monsters.

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by The Fox and The Spider, Mar 27, 2012.

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    The hills stained with blood; as the cries of the damned echo through misty peaks. The stone recalls the scorch of the fires of war. The birds remember their war drums well. And though we've forgotten their stained. Though we've ignored the calamity of their coming. History repeats itself; and so as it was once before....So shall it be again. It is not a question of if; rather when?

    Long ago; before the recording of time. There was silence. A void and formless world which simply was. Upon the darkness of the waters God and the Devil convened. They conjured a plan to test which influence was greater. This gave birth to the seed of man which descended from the tree of life. The scales of justice were in place. Judging men and either liberating them or condemning. Those which have done more good then evil, belonged to the lord. Those which traversed the opposite spectrum...were forever trapped in the devils snare.

    However there were those which died at birth; or a few unlucky souls which broke even. Beings who either did no good or evil; or those which somehow balanced out. Having no place anymore with the living, our world rejected them. And since the scales and system in place knew not what to do with them. God and the devil saw fit to cast them into the void which was. A space between space, a plane between ethereal planes. Here they were left to die; to simply fade away. But life has a way of adapting and overcoming travesty. In a realm of hopelessness; the souls congregated into one. One mass; one intelligence, one hive mind bent on a single purpose. To dismantle the system and bring an end to all those which rejected them.

    Once they tried to take the gates of heaven and hell. But failed due to their few numbers. Arrogantly assuming they were all dead; God and the devil turned a blind eye to this fault in the system. As thousands of years passed; their numbers grew and so did their power. Too prideful to admit error or to acknowledge such rejects as a threat. The powers which be continued their game of chess. But deep within the misty mountains. A tribe of mortals sensed the coming storm. Blessed with a potent third eye and impressive abilities they prepared for the war. At first they cried wolf; but none did listen. Their leader Julissa queen of the barbarians and gypsies prepares now for the coming era of winter. This is their story...

    The fog decorated the frosty peaks; obscuring them from distant eyes. For within the grip of ice and rock they remained isolated from the world. Here they knew the delusion of peace. Serenity which would soon dissipate as quickly as morning dew from blades of grass. The merry song of harps, lutes and flutes resonated within the lifeless woodlands. Fresh fires with pots filled with morning stew decorated the camp as many of her people attempted to enjoy their final days.

    Within her tent their queen rose from her slumber. Her breath hanging in the air as she watched it's influence fade. With haste she would rise from her bed; putting on her royal attire. Which compared to most societies appeared to be nothing more then a set of mildly decorated leather armor. However for a people with so little in the ways of wealth and resources it was quite lavish. Casually Julissa would push the flap of her tent to the side as she peered at her people. The heavy burden she inherited now barreling down on her. For she could sense the time was nigh for their return. And like most of the world...they were not ready.

    With sword strapped to her back, the ebony warmaiden stepped beyond the mouth of her abode. Her boots leaving their mark on the moisten earth. as she noted that the morning birds became deafen from their joyous songs which engulfed the region. With eyes narrowing she would shield her sensitive honey orbs from the morning sun. Using her dominant right hand as she closed the distance between her and her soldiers. Her people were tribals; barbarians in most eyes. Which lived off the land and took the land of lesser tribes or villages as supplies dwindled. Adsorbing the survivors into their flock to boost their military stature. However never involuntarily.

    But of late they had begun to become more self sufficient; due to the influence of wandering scholars and historians who had begun to teach them how to farm and raise livestock. However still in their core they were a military society.

    Softly Julissa would nest on an empty log; grasping a bowl of soup. Allowing it's warmth to stimulate her hands. Her long brown hair would blow in the hand as she dipped some dried bread into the soup. Allowing it to soak up the broth before using it like a spoon. A common way to eat soup in lesser developed cultures some might deduce. After having her fill Julissa would separate from her people. Wandering a bit of the ways off as she sat under the shelter of a tall and dying tree. Gazing out toward the vast and seamlessly infinite woodlands save for a few small villages and town sprinkled throughout the region. All of which tolerated her people presence. Some out of fear others out of respect.

    With blade piercing into the earth; Julissa would lean her back against it. Meditating to herself as if she were seeking some type of enlightenment or prayer to be answered. However in truth this was a way to exercise the mind and spirit. In her culture this was as important as physical fitness and labor. For a week spirit and weak mind gets just as much people killed as a frail exterior.
  2. a small band os nomads come into plain view through their clothing, statue and their rugged and more harsh facial expression they hail from the deserts. at their head walked sion. often called the desert itself by his own tribe both a beauty and beast unlike them he stood short barely 6 foot and his buila nd facial features are more fair, but his golden green eyes are harsh and abrasive like a sand storm. sion stop at certain spot and looked to his people " set up camp for now..go into town and barter only for useful things no trinkets. steal if there is no other way, but do not attack without cause. we need to travel these lands safely" the people began to set up camp the others went into various town to barter. sion walked of and began exploring the area near to the camp and comes apon julissa and stops and reaches for his knife unsure if this person was a threat. " hello there"

  3. (Can this one join? Sorry I have no picture of mine. If it is needed I will find something close to what my character should look like :)]

    Jensine pulled her coat closer to her against the cold chill of the morning. The raven haired woman was called a merchant in some parts, and a swindling gypsy in others. The latter perhaps being a bit more accurate. Like any prepared traveler, she didn't travel alone. Two human men armed with long swords stood at her side. Not to mention her favorite companion. Brutus was a goofy canine, though when his Master was in danger, that all changed and he became a one hundred and eighty pound beast of fury. Black fur covered the mutt's slightly loose skinned body well, and long fews always seemed to be dripping with drool. Though not the most blood hungry looking guard dog, he did his job well enough.

    Though she dressed and guarded like a defenseless piece of eye candy, Jensine was indeed a dangerous woman herself. Otherwise, she would never have been able to make it this far in the career path she had chosen. Attached to her colorful and revealing robes were many pouches in which she carried her wares, and also her weapons. Things ranging from poisons, small knives, and powdered herbs that can irritate one's senses when thrown at an opponent. Jensine knew a thing or two about deception. She kept herself looking defenseless for a reason. Her wares? She had many. Though now of course her supply was low. She carried small toys that would appeal to children, which would get the parents to buy, and medicines... Simply, the snake oil of her time. She knew she would get the more superstitious people to buy.

    Brown eyes, set on smooth sun-bronzed skin and sitting below a beautiful red gem set onto her forehead, looked again on the path she must travel. Her hired men carried some supplies, but due to some set backs they were running low. She thought she had seen a few nomads up ahead, perhaps she would be able to get some more supplies from them. "Come," she said, gesturing to her men. "We need to catch up to those others I saw." With that, the small group would head quickly onward through the mountain pass.
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    The queen was either weary or bored; Sorrainen could not tell which. She had never been adept at reading people, no matter how obvious their emotions would have been to others. With a sigh, the young woman tore her eyes away from her queen, tired of trying to decipher her mood.

    Sorra did still wonder, however, if the queen even realized that she was being watched. After all, Sorra was very high up in the tree, and not directly above her queen... but Queen Julissa was not an unobservant fool. Obviously! Sorra would have bet her last apple that Julissa was aware of her presence.

    Or maybe not her last apple... food was scarce, after all, especially when you were at the bottom of the food chain in society. No one would make your fires or help you track your dinner; you had to fend for yourself. As a short slip of a girl and weaker than most others in the tribe, Sorra was one that had difficulties fending for herself and was not typically befriended, assisted or relied upon. She loathed her place in society. The straggler, the one that could only befriend children, the one that...

    She had to cut her internal rant short. Her eyes had spotted movement in the trees below, and although she could see it was no threat... it was food! Or could be! Like a squirrel, Sorrainen shimmied down the tree, bow and arrows haphazardly tucked onto her person. She may have been little, but it seemed that even if she could not fight someone with her hands, she could probably outclimb them. She landed with a thump and scampered as quietly as possible further into the woods to track what she hoped would become dinner. Briefly, she thought she heard a man's voice come from behind her, near the queen, but she decided against turning back. The queen was stronger that Sorra, anyways. She could fend for herself.

    Booted feet silently treading over leaves and dirt as she stalked the unknown creature she hoped would be good meat, she seemed more a threat; her bow was held in her hand like it was part of her, an arrow already set and ready to fly. But the puffs of air were trailing out of her mouth too quickly. She should not have been so tired, and her face felt too warm. A scowl planted itself on her face as she followed her prey.

    If she was indeed getting ill, she would curse her soul and pitch a fit...
  5. Silence born by the intrusion of strangers; who entered the camp of a xenophobic society. Being a war driven society they felt little need for outsiders. For what was in the interest of others was seldom in the interest of their society. However they would harbor them no ill will or harm. Most save for a few select would keep their distance. Watching the strange male closely less he try to steal their supplies which they had little of. Boldly he approached Julissa while she meditated. This triggered minor offense amongst the population. However they would refrain from acting or voicing his lack of social adherence.

    Julissa would open her eyes; granting the man a cold stern stare as she rose from her nested position. With force she would remove her blade from the moisten earth. Twirling it in her hand before re-sheathing it. The hoarse whisper of steel rubbing against steel shattering the normal clamor of the misty peaks. Her honey eyes locking with his own as her tongue traced the arches of her luscious lips. Thus dismantling the once stern gaze which barreled on him. "It is not wise to intrude when one is meditating. Least of all a queen...Perhaps mannerism has escaped you?" Julissa stated as her eyes began to gallop around the scene.

    For though she was meditating to herself; she could sense the familiar aura of one of her people. Who seemed to be suffering from some type of physical ailment. Though what exactly it was which infected her body she knew not. Assuming of course it was something physical as oppose to a simple fluctuation of sorts. "Excuse me; I must tend to one of my own sir." Julissa would display proper social etiquette as she brushed passed the man; wondering if he'd follow her lead? Making her way toward the young lady who seemed content on chasing her prey. Casually Julissa's dominant hand would reach to her thigh. Removing a single throwing knife as she crept behind the young lady.

    With uncanny speed and precision the queen would hurl her knife across the scene. Cutting through the wind as it closed the distance between itself and the prey. Finally Julissa would address this young lady. "You're hungry...though food seems limited. You may have my share of the morning soup. I am not hungry. Perhaps Later you can join me on a hunt? I could use the company." A faint but rare sight crept on her face...a warm genuine smile.
    As the merchant made her way to the camp; the sentries would watch her carefully from afar. It was clear that this group of outcast was on edge. For reasons which would escape the grasp of most.
  6. " manners are not a priority among my people...survivial comes before all, but we do appreciate hospitality ..from what i have seen in these lands so far..desert people aren't very welcomed" reaches into a bag and pulls out a highly decorated knife with a gold hand guard and preceeds to hand it to her " its a custom to leave a gift to a hospitable people...we use gold often in our works.other than that it has no use to us" steps aside to allow her to pass " i see...i'll leave you to it" a man walks up to sion and leans into his ear " we have a problem" sion turn back to his camp and walks there " what happened?" the man looks at a relativley younger member of the group and points at him " he got into a fight with a local in the village five miles up. the look on sion's face turns to a savage glare "tie him" they grab the young man and turn his back to sion tieing his arms to two poles they set up and ripped the back of shirt to expose his back. " you knew the rules..and you let selfish pride jepordize the survival and well-being of the group...the punishment is thirteen lashes" goes in his ten and get the whip. this whip from the looks isn't made to cut the flesh like some do... it carries a blunt end for causing sheer mount of pain. sion starts the punishment. slowly whipping the young man seemingly sending a message to him about his actions.
  7. Jensine held out the length of her arms to still her own men. They paused behind her, their muscles tensing as they saw that they stumbled upon a whole encampment of barbarians, not just the nomads they were following. Brutus came to rest at his master's side, big dark body speading out on the frosted grass below him as he watched the scene with that ever contented, dopy look of his.

    "We bring no harm," Jensine called, first in common. She had learned many languages during her travels, and she could not tell what this one would speak, never having run across this tribe before. She turned to the nearest sentry and directed her speech toward him. "We are passing through these mountains. Our group is low on supplies. If you have any, we are willing to trade. If not, we simply ask to pass peacefully." Jensine offered the sentry a bow when she was done speaking, eying the group for any sign of advancement. Her powders were close at hand if any fight were to ensue.

    The two men looked very uncomfortable letting their employer speak to these barbarians. They gripped the weapons at their side tightly, their eyes roaming the scene before them.
  8. He was silent, crouched upon the ground his sword lying idly at his feet but within easy reach if Ryan needed it. He watched the merchant and her men with a critical and careful eye, ready to defend the encampment if any signs of trouble emerged- but what trouble could this small group cause against the tribe?
    Then again, Ryan considered, amber eyes studying the many pouches the woman wore, she probably has many tricks up her sleeves.

    He stood, picking up the sword as he did so, and what sunlight there was gleamed on his ebony skin that contrasted starkly against the bright red of his clothes. He knew he cut an intimidating figure. His sword was held loosely in his hand at his side to show that although he meant no harm he had no qualms with attacking.
    The dog caught his eyes and he could not help the crinkling around his eyes that showed his silent smile. He had a special fondess for dogs, liking their loyalty and the feirceness they could show to any who threatened those they considered their 'pack'. He immediately loathed the state of this one and felt a hint of anger towards the woman for letting him get like it.

    The woman spoke and although Ryan could vagely understand what he was saying- he had learnt understanding others' languages to be useful- he looked to his leader and waited for what she might say.
  9. Faroh and his small band of Elves drew closer to where he believed the group of Nomads had gone, he had seen various other groups entering this encampment before the Nomads, and wasn't sure what they were, poor looking Humans, not anything that the Elves would accept back in Valenwood, far to the north. However he was not in Valenwood, after that incident which caused him and the three others to be banished they had been wondering aimlessly. He felt his quiver pound against his sweaty back, and grimaced from the pain caused by the dagger he houses by his leg. They were drawing close to what he presumed was the entrance, as the the drew closer, he raised his hand, an indication for his followers to stop, not an order, as these men were following him through their own free will. "What is it Forah?" Skorj, his closest friend muttered.
    "Look" he replied, and indicated over towards the entrance, there were two large men there, a woman, and a dog. The woman looked fairly helpless, "We'll wait here and see how this scene plays out" Faroh said to his men.
  10. (I will be playing as Julissa's people until Arashi post)

    The merchant and her guards calls would be heard. As silent embraced the sentries watched from afar. Unphased by her guards or even the elves whom seemed content on keeping their distance. They would seem to converse with one another using their native dialect. A language shared not with outsiders or scholars who attempted to decode their unique society. Only those who were born within their flock were permitted to utter their tongue; but never were they allowed to use their language near the wandering ears of outsiders. The sentries seemed unphased by the sheer abnormal volume of strangers pressing along their borders. Even the elves merited nothing more then a single glance. For little to no malice was emitted from their auras.

    The merchant would receive no reply in the form of words. Rather something far more potent...that being action. And actions ofttimes reverberated more boldly with others then actual verbal communication. A single sentry would raise his hand skyward; as a silver aura traced the outline of his form. The mouth of the gate would vibrate as it too began to be encompassed by the same outline. Within a few seconds it's jaws would open, slamming against the stone which kept it in place. No doubt this display would shock most. For the sentry opened it with little effort. This was the power shared amongst each tribe member. And though their specialties differed from one member of the flock to the next. It was abundantly clear that by using the natural life force of themselves they could bend and augment what some know as chi...or the very essence of our cosmos.

    Whether or not their power of observation was refined enough to deduce this much would remain unseen momentarily. Finally one of the guards would call out to them from the wall. His voice thunderous and authoritative as he instructed those which rested outside of the walls to pass through the mouth of their abode if they dared. "Come forward; if it is supplies you seek or shelter you must speak with queen Julissa. You may find her toward the north of the camp...either meditating or hunting for game." The guard declared before once more gracing the elves with a stern gaze. However offering them no words. Once more the sentries would be stricken with silence as they returned to their post.
  11. Jensine watched as the man called upon a power deep inside him to pull open the gates for her and her small group. Her trained eye knew this was near mere trick, or illusion like one she could call upon. These people had real power, and she knew what crossing them would mean. Luckily, that wasn't her intention. Jensine looked over her shoulder at the elves, flashing a quick smile and a wink. An overly friendly gesture, and also a way to show them that they weren't going to get the jump on her, if those were their intentions. She wondered what they might be doing here. There sure seemed to be a lot of strange traffic going on along these mountains.

    Jensine passed through the gates, Brutus quickly gaining his feet as Jensine moved forward. The muscle bound mountain dog pushed his head into Jensine's hand, and the woman absent mindedly rewarded the dog with a scratch at the loose skin around his face and neck. It seemed they both had each other well trained at this point.

    Brutuse wanted badly to approach and take a whiff of these strange people. He took a few steps from Jensine's side, and approached the ebony skinned guard with the sword. He showed no fear and sniffed around the legs of this man as Jensine walked on for a short bit, flashing a diplomatic smile at the ever so stoic guards.

    A plan was forming in her head. She really did not want to pay these two men when they got to the city, like she had originally agreed. To be honest, they were eating up all the rations anyway. Big old muscled men required to many calories for her liking. Perhaps she had a way to be rid of them, and collect a nice amount of supplies and new wares too. These people sure were exotic. She could find something here that people wouldn't be able to find elsewhere. Ah, what people payed for novelty.

    As jensine approached the queen, she turned to look past her two men at her canine friend. That dopey dog got so distracted sometimes. She gave a sharp whistle, which would send Brutus bounding up to her side. Jensine bowed before the barbarian queen, her two men following suite, and waited to be addressed.
  12. Ryan watched the whole display hoping the shock did not show on his face. He knew his Queen had great powers but did not expect her to show them so openly and to strangers at that!
    He continued watching, on guard all the time, as the guard pulled the gate open and the woman entered. One eye on them and another at the elves. This watchfulness however was distracted when the dog bounded up to him, nose sniffing in his scent.

    "Hello," he murmured, reaching his hand out to the dog, hoping it would respond with friendliness. He let it sniff a bit more before moving his hand to scratch the dog behind its ears, feeling its fur between his coarse fingers "aren't you beautiful?"

    With a little sigh Ryan once again wished he had a dog of his own- all he had was the raven that persisted in following him and stealing his scraps of food. Ryan had not the heart to kill it and thought it sly to have avoided the other people for so long.
    His head snapped up at the stranger woman's whistle and stood up straight, cursing himself for his momentary display of softness. He watched again as the woman and two men bowed and edged a little closer to them.
  13. as soon as he finifhes the punishment he waved his men to untie him " put salve on his back and mend his clothes..after that leave him be to reflect" he turned to the gate and watched how it opened with a hint of amusment on his face. " interesting...." he looked to his people " same rule apply and other issue come up the punishment with be harsher" he lead his people in looking everyone and everything with with some suspension. he looked to the elves and the others. one his people walked to sion and tapped him on the shoulder " some of us where wondering if it alright if we also trade thing to make som musical instruments". sion sighed almost annoyed " very well, but nothign that will hinder our movement"
  14. Skorj grew close to Faroh and said "The Humans mean us no harm, and said if we seek refuge or trading, we can approach"
    "I know what they said" Faroh replied, being fluent in the native speakings of humans, it was a requirement to learn and become fluent in another language if you wished to be higher than a commoner in Elven society, he looked back at Kars and Somile, the two others who were with Skorj and himself, they were not used to traveling without rest. "Fine, we'll see what they can give us" he said in their native tongue, "But stay cautious at all times."
    As they entered through the gates of the encampment, Faroh got a better look at her inhabitants, Barbaric people, no too intelligent, at least at first glance. However what they lacked in Brains they made up for in brawn, no doubt if things got out of hand, Faroh and his men could easily take these people out for afar with their natural archery abilities, and hold their ow in a swordfight, however they could easily be out muscled by these beasts.
  15. ((Sorry for lateness))

    A knife whizzed past Sorra and thunked into her prey. She spun around, unsure about what to say to whoever had throw it.

    Especially once she saw that it was the queen. Sorrainen lowered her bow along with her eyes, shook her head slowly to refuse Julissa's offer.
    "Thank you for your generosity, my queen, but you need to eat whether you are hungry or not, you know. You need to keep up your strength; a bow requires little strength, so food is not so urgent a need for me. But if you would like, I can accompany you on your hunt. I can make sure no one sneaks up on you."

    Slowly, she brought her eyes back up to watch Julissa's face.

    ((And for the shortness >.> ))
  16. Ryan's attention was divereted from the woman and her dog to the elves that now entered. He looked at his Queen and assumed that she must be busy with the merchant woman.
    He stepped in the elves' path, letting his sword swing almost carelessly.
    He was fluent in their native tongue but he thought that they probably thought he and his people as being without intelligence, idiots. How wrong. Ryan debated with himself and decided it probably best if they underestimated them and thought he couldn't understand them very well.
    "Welcome," he said in broken words of their language. It would sound ridiculous to their ears to hear their language spoken so and they'd probably get the impression he only knew it enough to speak simple words and not enough to understand any normal converations they might have.
    "Is pleasure. Queen busy, as see."

  17. The where at the gates now. One of the Barbarians approached Faroh and his company, greeting them and asking them to trade in Brissingar, their native tongue. Skorj quickly drew nearer, whispering to him "Something's not right here, how does he know our tongue?" Though Faroh waved his hand in the air, signalling silence, with his palm wrapped around the hilt of his sword he walked up to the man, speaking in the common human tongue he said "Yes, we require trade and somewhere to stay the night" pulling several Elven trinkets and jewel's out of his pocket, showing them they would be rewarded with these rare Elven goods for their hospitality.
  18. Monster, a name that Vulcan's people new well. His people were a tribe of Anthro-Wolves, one of the deadliest kind of creatures to face in battle. At the moment, Vulcan was down by the brooke of a lake nearby, washing his hands in the cool brisk water. Being an Anthro meant he was half man, half animal. Most people believed that made him a monster--since they thought his origin was of a human mating with an animal. Greatful to the heavens high above that was not the case. In fact, they were created by Clawthol, the tribal god of beast and hunt.

    Vulcan was wearing leather armor from head to toe, with a long bow in case of a fight. But right now his mind was focused on the wilds and it's gifts to offer him. For what he could remember of himself and of his people, he was the last of them. His mother or foster mother, was a human who lived in the wilds. She was gentle, kind, and wiser than any shaman.

    It was around moringand between noon; Vulcan was hunting. He didn't need a sword or a dagger, all he needed was his bow and his claws. He raised his snout to the air and sniffed around for a scent. His ears would flap back and forth whenever he'd grab a good one. After about a minute of scenting, his tail swayed to the side, his yellow eyes sharpened, ears flapped, and he howled to the moon hidden behind the sun.

    The hunt was on as he got on all fors, kicked up dirt with one of his beastial legs, and galloped off into the forest.
  19. "You are welcome to stay the night with me," Ryan nodded also switching to the common human language- this was one of the five languages he was fluent in. it was more his skill, really. He didn't have much to trade, hunting for himself when needed and hunting for others when he wanted something. he noted the lead elf's hand clutching his sword, "I do not have much to trade but there are others who probably are more than willing to--"
    At that moment there came a loud squawk and a familiar shape fluttered down to thud a few feet away.
    And it's back, Ryan resisted the urge to glare at the raven, who was now waddling back and forth, puffing it chest out proudly and letting out deep croaks. It was showing itself off in front of the newcomers, challenging them to come get it.
    He chose to ignore it completely despite its squacking getting louder by the minute.
  20. Many gathered around and within their camp. For once in a long time they would serve as host. A notion which rarely transpired due to the primal fear most held regarding their culture and society. Naturally many feared the unknown; a bi-product of living a reclusive life style. The citizens of julissa's camp would open up to the strangers approaching those which strayed from their queen's location. Asking whether or not they cared to join them in song and dance. However if one looked close enough at their movements they would notice that this was no happy dancing. Rather lets dance to forget about our worries.

    Julissa locked eyes at the huntress whom prey she killed. Listening to her words as a frown now displayed itself on her face. "A queen who thinks not of her people first; no matter how grand or small that person may be. Isn't a queen at all. At least not one worth following." A pause now lingered in the air before she continued to express herself to this one. "I have had my fill. To eat more would prove gluttonous of me. I am content...while you are not. So please I implore you to reconsider my offer." Julissa would conclude as Jensine approached with her two escorts.

    The fair queen would turn around as she arched a brow. Confused by their display of humility. Such an act of formality was alien to their culture and mindset. Nevertheless Julissa would stretch out her hand as she softly spoke toward the strange lot. "Rise..." She would request of them as her eyes quickly drifted toward the elves which now entered her camp. Which reeked of both experience yet pride. However quickly her attention would return to Jensine. "So many outsiders...Yet no silver eyed demon. I suppose he is running late..." She concluded as she gently bit down on her bottom lip.

    "What is it you seek?" Julissa went straight to the point.