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[Meeting Weylan - Crimes Against Nature Part Six]
Another day... it was like purgatory. For a soldier of his ability an assignment to patrol the city was anything but satisfying. He let out a sigh, slightly ruddy cheeks puffing beneath the wooden carved mask that covered his eyes. His free hand pulled back through strands of dirty blonde, kept just kempt enough to avoid the attention of his temporary superiors. Temporary was right, he reflected for a moment, they wouldn't long keep a soldier of his caliber down, no, no.Â
He stopped by a still puddle, a remnant of the torrent that had fallen that morning. In the full brightness of the afternoon sun he glimpsed his reflection. That combination of soldierly wear upon his features, with that hint of devil-may-care decorum. "Now that," he thought to himself, "is an elite soldier." The wood wailer turned back toward the route of his patrol with the morose manner of the habitual underachiever, metaphorical hands stuffed firmly in his pockets. He ambled with an unconcerned air, leaving the amphitheater behind as he approached and then passed the grinding rumble of the millers industry.Â
The suddenness of the sight was what seemed to catch the breath in his throat. Of course, Weylan was not unaccustomed to the sight of lovely women. But, that sight of the shapely blonde poised against the railing of the small bridge ahead wasn't just just a pretty girl. He'd been staring at this girl over lunch nearly every day. That lovely, smiling blonde from the poster. It didn't really take much to bring Weylan's lackadaisical stride to a halt, and this certainly qualified.Â
He peered a bit closer, squinting behind the mask. From this vantage he could only see her from behind, but that figure, the long light, blonde hair that fell across her back. He sucked in a breath through pursed lips before pulling them back into a grin, an unnerving expression, as he regarded the girl from a distance. It was her, he was as near to certain, the girl from the poster in the Sleeping Boar.
He pushed his shoulders back as he started again for the bridge. Now there was a purpose to his step, but no hint of the usual Wailer cadence. He sauntered onto the first few planks of the slightly arched wooden span. It was her, no doubt about it now. She seemed preoccupied, gazing out into the flowing stream without a care in the world.Â
He paused for just a moment to take in the outline of her figure once more. She was wearing something of a huntress' outfit: tight forest green leggings, and a white tunic belted near her waist. A leather hunters harness, or a facsimile of one, looped its straps around her far shoulder. But, the cut was altogether more risque: the tunic hugged her feminine curves below the shoulders, holding fast to narrow waist and then the curve of her side as it widened toward her hips. And then the boots, high and dark leather with steep heels that screamed of the provocative wenches of Limsa rather than the quiet forest paths of Gridania.
He stepped to the right side of her, setting his spear against the railing as his eyes turned their attention upon her. There opened before him another pleasant surprise: where a shroud huntress would have tightly cinched the bodice of her tunic, this one stood loose. Not just loose, but open, seeming like it must have beet cut for the purpose of exposing the form of the decolletage that seemed so barely contained within its confines. He watched as it seemed to swell, rising against the fabric as the woman took in an audible breath of surprise.
He slowly pulled his eyes up, not wanting to allow them to waste a moment of this opportunity. Up and up they drew scanning further than he'd anticipated to take in her full height. At last his eyes settled on her eyes, nearly at his own height. Oh, but there they were: those lovely blue eyes wide, and looking right at him. For a moment he imagined that poster and the way she seemed to smile right at him as he gazed longingly at her for minutes on end from the bar, "Hello miss." He greeted her politely, a light but amused smirk on his features. Â
She smiled softly, there it was, he thought, and then looked him over, eyes quickly scanning up and down, seeming to pause for a moment upon the mask he wore over his eyes which lead to a little hesitation upon her carmine lips. Slender feminine fingers tapped gently against the wood railing, until after a moments pause she shifted her hips, and offered a warm smile his way. "its just a perfect day isn't it? Nothing quite like a little sunshine is the afternoon."Â
That voice!! He liked it even more than he had imagined: the light silky tone, and the play of her delectable Ishgardian accent upon every word! He nodded, "Good spot." He turned toward the railing and leaned heavily against it, elbows resting there as he hung his hands out over the water. "Good company too..."
She let out a soft laugh, comfortable sounding he thought, as she gazed back out toward the water wheel that turned majestically over and over on the other the small pool. With her right hand she pulled stray strands of her bangs back behind her ear, unable to contain a little smirk of her own, though it was not directed his way. "Well, that's as good a reason as any to take a break on a busy day, right?" She grinned a bit at the suggestion, glancing his way as she released her hand, a flicker of playful mischievousness in her expression and voice.
He barked a laugh, showing her his broad grin. "Aye, that it is!" His gaze appraised her again. Appreciative of that little smirk and the curve of her face, now exposed. He felt a little flush of pride, "These day's it's just patrol the city. Just waitin' for a new assignment, of course. New elite group to have an opening." His voice was confidence, and he puffed up his chest a bit, turning slightly toward her to emphasize the broadness of his muscular shoulders.
The brightness of the smile she turned his way was just what he had hoped to see. And then there was the way she raised those blonde eyebrows with an impressed curiosity, signalling just how badly she wanted to know more about him, he though. "Elite?" she asked with fascination.
He grinned back, proudly, and stood up to his full height to offer an authoritative nod. "One of the sixteenth. Well, was anyway. Unit's gone so I'm waiting for a new assignment." He grimaced, "'Pending review' they say. Troubled times like this, you need people out in the field protecting the city. Protecting people like you."
She took in another breath, listening and watching his display looking all the more impressed for the telling. "The Sixteen?" she asked mistakenly in her innocent, fascinated way, "That does sound elite!"
He puffed up even more, grinning with the broad intensity of a man who sees everything going according to plan. That said, despite his best efforts, he hardly looked old enough to be elite. "Yeah. Best of the best. Gotta be, to hunt the poachers that risk the deepest parts of the Shroud."
"Yeaaaah...?" came the dazzled reply of her light feminine voice. She leaned closer toward him, eyes widened with those blonde eyebrows still raised as she seemed to hang upon his every word. There was a taste of her perfume... vanilla, peaches... "You've hunted in the deep shroud?".
He nodded a bit, slowly. His gaze drifted downward. The combined effect of her fragrance and the enticing view offered by her bodice, especially as she leaned his way, was enough to momentarily bring a stop to his train of thought. He couldn't really help it, after all, They were right there. He wasn't even quite sure just how long the savoring moment lasted, but he was brought back out of it by the sound of her voice. "Are you okay?" she was asking with concern.
He whipped his eyes back to hers, followed by a quick downward double-take, before nodding emphatically. "Oh, aye, aye. As I was... sayin' I plan to go back to the deep shroud again. 'ventually. Once the higher ups get outa their own asses. Just tryin' to make the best of this lull. He paused for a moment, his eyes glancing downward for a moment again as he resisted the urge to stare. Then he tilted his head just a bit, returning her quizzical gaze as he gestured slightly toward her, "How about we go get some drinks? I'll tell you 'bout how I got into the Sixteenth."Â
The woman lifted her head back up, while the fingers of her hands crossed on the railing. She seemed to be considering his offer for a moment before she offered an energetic little nod, "Oh that does sound interesting! I'd love to hear!" She beamed that bright grin of hers right towards him, "Where did you have in mind?" she turned toward him for the first time giving his eyes the sudden pause of distraction once more.
"The Canopy is nice, but it's so full of adventurers these days." he said with derision. "Nothing but trouble for the Twelveswood if you ask me." He paused for a moment, drawing a hand along his jaw before speaking thoughtfully, "I know a few better places, but they're a bit rough for a fine woman like yourself."
She giggled softly at his last comment. And with a glance away she bit her lower lip and thought for a moment herself, while Her right hand idly played with the cinch string that tied (or didn't) her bodice. "Well..." she cocked her hips a bit, before looking back, "There is a nice spot for tea nearby."
"For you? he announced with an air of chivalry, "I'll drink tea."
She laughed, looking terribly excited in the way that she moved, "Perfect!"
He seemed to puff up even more, casting an immensely proud grin her way as he drew his hands up towards his face, "Ah, just lemme take this off." His fingers unhooked the mask, and drew it off. Freshly revealed blue eyes scanned up and down the body of the woman in front of him with admiration. "Much better. Let's go find this spot of yours."
She grinned with a nod, "Oh!" she stopped suddenly in the middle of her turn to leave, "I'm Aya! she smiled brightly back toward him.
"Weylan," he grinned back.
[Credit to Nihka for the RP scene this was drawn from!]
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