~*~Malorhe Tavern and Inn~*~

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illogical_reality

The l33t One
(OOC: Okay, so, since no one else seems to be doing much around here, I'm going to basically "open" an old Ayenee Tavern/Inn. I miss the old days where you didn't have to immediately have a story line to RP. All you had to do was "walk into" a tavern and be met with instant hostility or hospitality. So, to those of you interested, this is my free for all tavern. Feel free to destroy things to your heart's content or pick fights with each other, or if you're really old skool, hang out in the rafters or at a table in one of the infinite shadowed corners.)

The crowded tavern was a place of bustling noise and mediocre services. Set in the midst of a forest, it was surprising to see so many patrons, and yet, there they sat, each drinking and laughing or carrying on secretive conversations or merely sitting alone, fiddling with various toys including every weapon imagineable and some even using magick. It was a mixture of races: elves, halflings, fairies and rogues, vampires and vixens and even an occassional human or two. The list continues on and on and there are no words to describe how random this particular tavern could be. Even Superman was known to drop in on occasion and who knows what else might walk through the door at any given moment. Note that there is emphasis on the word WHAT.

And of course, let's not forget our buddies who prefer the shadows. Those were the badasses of the badasses and hid among the shadows of the rafters and the tables in the corners. Any and all were welcome here, although it has never been considered a "sanctuary." Even as you walk through the door, who knows what might decide today was the day they were going to piss in your Wheaties and there is absolutely nothing to be done about it beyond either backing down or drawing a sword, AK, or whatever other weapon may be at your disposal.

Of course, the tavern had various rooms. There is the main room where everyone and thing mingles. A long bar with every kind of drink imagineable lines the back wall. Various tenders serve there, some friendly, others not so much. These creatures of servitude vary in race, age, sex and appearance depending upon the patrons and who they decide to speak with. Here at Malorhe Tavern and Inn, our aim is to please and whatever you want can be conjured at a moment's notice.

To the left of the bar is a staircase. Up those stairs are private rooms made to delight in or fight in, whatever your pleasure may be. No identification is required to rent one of our rooms. Prices vary. It depends on the use of each room and how many windows and how much furniture will have to be replaced once you depart our fair tavern for greener pastures. We used to require that you pay in GPs (untraceable currency, you understand) but these days, with modern advances, we accept all forms of payments, including credit cards, whether they are yours or not.

And all patrons need to keep from behind the bar when fighting please. With the variety of drinks and food served, we can no longer afford to keep replacing some of the more hard to acquire merchandise. Of course, you may have noted the two doors set behind the bar. Those lead to the kitchens and store room respectively. You're welcome to have free use of the store room as long as you can guarantee no fighting will erupt within. Again, food and drink costs have gone up quite a bit and we would prefer to not have to constantly replace it. And don't think we haven't noticed you telekenetics using your mind shit to blow up our bottles. Stop it or else. Yeah, OR ELSE. Go play your mind games with that unsuspecting patron who just walked through the door.

The only current rule is that if you break it, you buy it. And with that stated, welcome to the Malorhe Tavern and Inn. Feel free to mingle to your heart's content and do what you will.
 
The girl stepped through the door of the....what...tavern or something? She glanced around quickly, light blue eyes taking in the scene before her. Various "guests" sat at the tables, talking amongst themselves. The noise was an assault to her ears and the stench was almost overwhelming. Of course, that could be due to the large trolls who took up an entire table to her left.

She shrugged. Nothing had changed and yet, everything had changed. Things in her life were strange on a good day. Well, she supposed they were. She couldn't honestly remember much of her old life. This moment was the first of her true memories if she were honest. She hadn't any idea how her memory was lost, simply that it was, and now she was here, having followed a beckoning light through the forest in hopes of finding a sign of life. She had found something, although at this moment she wasn't precisely sure it was anything good.

Slowly, she moved from the front of the door. She now realized that as she had stood there pondering, she had blocked the doorway and the patrons following her didn't seem too inclined to be denied access to this somewhat rustic tavern. Breathe, girl, breathe. Sad when one cannot even remember her own name when talking to oneself. She continued across the rustic boards, the slapping of her bare feet sounding ludicrous to her own ears. Barefoot in a place of public drunkeness? What was becoming of her?

Although, truth be told, the rest of her appearance wasn't all that wonderful. She glanced down as she walked, noting the mud that caked her slender legs. The fabric of the torn skirt of her dress rasped against the mud, clinging in places and drifting away in others, as if abhorrent at the thought of degrading itself further by touching more of her body than necessary. The low cut top was in no better condition than her legs. Mud splattered and ripped in places over the bodice, she was sure she looked like some random gypsy who had just come from an assignation. Of course, she had no idea what her face or hair looked like, but it was probably in no better condition than the rest of her.

Gyspy. Was she a gyspy? The word honestly meant nothing to her. It was just another word that popped into her mind at that random moment. It hadn't taken her long to reach the bar and when she sat upon the stool, she saw the young girl behind the counter smile at her. It was habit. The smile didn't reach the other girl's eyes and faltered slightly at the appearance of our waif. Waif. No, that didn't sit quite right on her shoulders either. What a conundrum.

Just then, her belly rumbled in protest. When was the last time she had eaten? This morning? Yesterday? Last week? It was all hidden in the depths of her mind, waiting for a key to unlock it's secrets, a key our girl did not possess. Oh well. Perhaps pity would win out the day. Smiling back at the girl, she paused at the sight of the matted hair that had drifted to her shoulder. Black. Her hair was black. At least, that's what she thought. She couldn't be sure that it wasn't a trick of the mud that caked her hair too. And now that she sat here, no longer focused on finding civilization, she realized that her face hurt. Had she been beaten? Had she tripped over her own feet and tumbled into a random ravine? Questions. Infinite questions with no answer. Amnesia definitely sucked.

The girl with the smile approached tentatively. Obviously, this was not a usual customer. 'She probably can't pay,' drifted through the tender's mind. No, she definitely couldn't. But, she could pray the tender had a sympathetic soul. "Can I get you something, miss?" Could she? "A glass of water, please?" With a nod, the tender went to fetch the required refreshment and left the waif to her musings.

A million thoughts tumbled through the mind that no longer wished to cooperate. Coherent thoughts were possible, things that shouldn't make sense did and those things that should make sense simply didn't. Glimpses of a lady in red. An occasional break in the fog to show a little darkhaired girl laughing in front of a warm fire. Memories, but of what? Of who? Of herself, to be sure, but what was her NAME? The more she pushed herself to remember the more her head hurt until finally, exhausted, she lay her head upon the counter and tried to block out the need to remember and the noise surrounding her.

A thump startled her from her reverie. Opening her eyes slowly, she saw a glass of cool water had been placed before her. Without thought, without hesitation, said water was lifted to her lips and gulped until finally her air supply was cut off and she began to choke. Sputtering water across the bar and onto her own clothes, embarrassment set in. And then, a glimpse. Her reflection in the glass confirmed her worst fears. Staring back at her was a face she didn't recognize, but worse, a face that was battered and bruised.

Ruby lips were swollen and in some places scabbed over as if she had been hit in the mouth repeatedly. The whole right side of her face was bruised and swollen as well, as if she had taken a blow to the jaw. Around her neck were the definitive imprints of fingers, as if someone had tried to choke the life from her body. And with this revelation came anger. Anger that someone had dared to abuse her in such a way. Her eyes lifted then and she realized that, while her hair color may be black, no one would know given the amount of mud caked within that had dried into a helmet like state. Yeah, she was a wreck and she'd kill the asshole who had done this to her just as soon as she figured out who she was.

She replaced the glass to the counter, and then slumped, exhaling a defeated sigh. She raised tired eyes to the tender, who was regarding her now as if she had suddenly sprouted another head and was running naked through the tavern, giving lap dances to those trolls who were now pushing each other around. Yeah, a defeated woman was such a strange sight in a place filled with demons and vampires and werewolves and probably served unicorn as a speciality dish. What next? "Uh, thanks. For the water."

Her voice came out slightly awkward as a blush stained her cheeks. She had no idea why she was embarrassed other than she knew that maybe her actions were a little uncouth. Okay, so maybe she was lacking in decorum, but seriously, did the girl HAVE to stare? "No problem, miss. Do you need anything else?"

"A name?" This was muttered in a slightly petulant tone.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. Nevermind." Now, the tone was resigned once more.

"Uh...okay then." And with that, the tender took herself off to attend to the patrons who could actually pay. "So much for sympathy." Again, her stomach rumbled in protest and this time she ignored it. Nothing to be done about it. She would just sit here a moment and give herself a little time to recover. Ignoring the rest of the patrons, she crossed her arms over the scarred wood of the bar and then laid her head within their cradle. Her eyes closed of their own accord. Just a moment to rest, that's all she needed. Then she would be on her way.
 
A gruff voice, "Hey! If ya wanna sleep, rent a room. Ya can't sleep at the bar."

The girl opened her eyes to peer at the blurry shape before her. It was a man, but that was all she could really be certain of. "Excuse me?" Her voice was sleep roughened. How long had she been asleep? She had only meant to rest her eyes. Oh well.

"Ya can't sleep at the bar! Are ya deaf or dumb or both?"

Well that was certainly rude. Sitting straight now, posture of a queen, the girl replied, "I didn't mean to fall asleep. I only wanted to rest a moment." Embarrassment flushed her cheeks. She could feel the blood pooling behind the porcelain skin. Or, it would be porcelain if it weren't caked in dried mud. God, she felt disgusting.

"Look, girlie, either get a room or getcha ass outta here. This tavern's fer payin' customers and you ain't paid for nuthin' yet."

A sigh of resignition and then a light bulb clicked on. "Hey, would this place happen to be hiring? I...well, I could use a job." No need to inform him that she had lost her memory and didn't know what she could and couldn't do. If she could earn a little money or even trade her services for a hot meal and a bath, she would be grateful.

The man gave her a once over, taking in her ragged appearance. She squirmed under his stare and did the same to him, taking in his thick beard and rotund belly. His eyes were beady and so dark they appeared black. His nose was slightly bulbous, but somehow still managed to fit his face. If it weren't for the fact that he was about 5'10" or so, she'd swear he was a dwarf. Perhaps he was another of those constant halflings who inhabited the world. He rubbed his chin between thumb and forefinger in consideration.

"Ya can't earn yer keep here on yer back girlie. Ain't got no need fer whores. Plenty enough women here who give it out fer free to the patrons and pay fer their own drinks on top of it. What can ya do?"

The girl stopped to consider for a moment. What COULD she do? She wasn't positive, but she could probably sweep up the place, clean tables. Those seemed easy enough tasks. "Anything you require of me. I can sweep and do the cleaning and even serve drinks and food if that's what you need." She was offended he had thought she was a prostitute, but since she had no idea if she might be one or not, she didn't push the issue.

"Well, then, girlie we might just have a job for ya. The hours are long and the work can get a little hard sometimes, but when ya work fer The Malorhe Tavern and Inn we can guarantee safety fer ya most of the time and we'll pay ya a fair wage. We don't allow no riff raff messin' with our girls and if ya take the job, that's what you'll be."

She considered this a moment. "Will I be able to reside on the premises? I honestly have nowhere to go at this point and would need a place to stay." She didn't think she had anywhere else to go and if she did, at the moment she had no clue where it might be, so she was hoping he would allow her to stay in one of the rooms.

"Well, girlie, if ya choose to stay here then a fee fer one of the rooms will be deducted from yer weekly wages. The same goes for any food or drink. But, if ya don't work hard and do yer job we won't keep ya on for long."

She nodded, "I understand and it seems your a fair man, Mr...."

"Rufus be the name. And what be yers girlie? I'm sure you don't go by girlie most of the time."

Well, wasn't this a pickle. She didn't know her real name. Considering where she was, however, it probably wasn't necessary to reveal her real name. "Ashina, Mr. Rufus. Ashina Kansior." That was as good a name as any. It didn't stir any distant memories or unlock any puzzles, but it would do.

"Well, Ashina, ya can take room number 3. Ya ain't in no condition to be workin' tonight. But I expect ya to be up and bathed and dressed in somethin' other than those rags by 6 tomorrow mornin'. Ya can borrow some clothes from Mirabelle over there until ya can afford to buy yer own." He nodded his head toward the girl who had delivered Ashina's water earlier as he spoke. "Now, girlie, I got to get back to work. I ain't makin' no money sittin' here chirpin' it up with you." And with that he turned and walked down the bar to speak with some of the other customers.

Go figure. A job, a place to sleep and some clothes. Life was turning out to be just peachy.
 
Ashina smiled at Mirabelle as she approached. The girl stopped, gave her a once over and then sneered at her slightly, "Mr. Rufus says as how I'm to loan you some clothes. Follow me." With that, the girl turned on her heel and went to the corner of the bar, lifting the top with ease and stepping through to the other side before lowering it again.

Ashina wondered at the sneer, but since the girl was at least willing to follow orders, if not do so with grace, who was she to complain? She rose from her stool and was immediately assaulted by a wave of dizziness at the sudden movement. She lifted her right hand to her forehead and clutched at the edge of the counter with the other. Just then, she felt a movement to her right and someone grabbed her arm in a firm, though not painful, grip. "Hey! Are you going up to the rooms? Need help. My name's Javen. What's yours? Why are you covered in mud? You know, you're not wearing any shoes. Why aren't you wearing shoes? My ma'd skin my hide if she ever caught me without shoes."

Ashina let the words pour over her as she regained her equilibrium and then turned to see who addressed her. What she saw surprised her. It appeared to be a human teenager with small black wings protruding from his back. Despite the fact that he was taller than her 5'5" he appeared to be not much more than a youth. Perhaps 16 or 17 in human years, he had dirty blonde hair and the greenest eyes she had ever beheld. The hand that held her arm was covered in odd tattoos that appeared almost Celtic in origin, but obviously weren't. He wore a white wifebeater with holes slit through the back to allow room for his wings and a pair of black, baggy jeans with grey accents and a chain hanging from one of the front belt loops that appeared to lead to perhaps a wallet in his back pocket. As for the wings themselves, now that she was more steady, she realized they were small but lethal looking. Shaped like the wings of a bat, they came to points at the bottom, totalling 5 in all, and at the top were more rounded than pointed. But, unlike a bat's wings, these appeared almost manmade, the points at the bottom razor sharp. Where a bat's wings would bend, these could have been made from steel and been less intimidating.

Ashina held up her free hand to stem the tide of his questions and inane chatter that hadn't ceased during her inspection of him. "Hold on. Slow down." What was his name? He had just told her somewhere in the mix of his interrogation and she was trying to recall. "Javen!" That got his attention. He stopped in the midst of his tirade about fairies looting his locker at school and looked at her. Silence. Blessed silence. Now that his mouth wasn't moving, Ashina realized that despite his wings, he was a very pretty boy. "Look, Javen, while I appreciate the help, I have no idea who or what you are and I don't think it would be proper to allow you to escort me to my room."

A hurt expression sat upon Javen's face, but the hurt in his eyes made Ashina regret her hastily spoken words. With a muttered, "Uh..yeah..okay," Javen turned to leave. Cursing herself for being ten times a fool, Ashina placed her hand upon his left shoulder to stop him. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings okay." Sincerity flowed from blue eyes to chase the hurt from green. "Can we be friends then?" Ashina paused. Friends? Did she have any friends out there looking for her, even now? And what about family? A mother, a father, a sister or a brother? Was she completely alone?

"I don't know Javen. Right now I'm confused and I'm tired and I just want to go to my room and lie down." A soft sigh was expelled. Was this night never going to end?

"Oh, uh, okay. Well, I can help you to your room if you want. I promise I won't try anything or...well....anything. I just saw you sitting here at the bar and wanted to help cause you got all pale all of a sudden and looked like you were gonna kiss the floor the hard way and it seemed a shame to let you fall flat on your face when it probably already hurts like Hell. And I should know how bad Hell can be. I'm half demon you know. Normally Rufus would throw me out right about now, saying I was bad for business, cause honestly, how many people wanna spend time with a demon? But, he let me stay for some reason tonight and I'm not really sure..."

On and on and on. Ye gods, did the boy/demon ever stop? "Okay, okay. You can help me to my room Javen. But I have a serious headache, so no talking, okay?" Oh boy was she ever a fool. Trust a demon? Well, half demon, her inner voice replied. Yeah, whatever. Half, full, demons were trouble and she knew it even as she didn't know her own name. Her life had taken an odd turn since she had lost her memory. She glanced at the base of the stairs, realizing she didn't know which room was to be hers, and realized Mirabelle still stood there, waiting with her arms crossed, and glaring daggers at Ashina.

What was wrong with that girl? Ashina didn't think she'd ever met her before tonight and therefore couldn't have given the girl a reason to hate her. Could she? Another puzzle for another day. She just wasn't up to trying to figure this all out right now. "Alright Javen. See that girl over there? We have to follow her." At once Javen held out his arm to escort her, keeping to his promise of silence, despite the fact that his eyes lit with recognition at the sight of Mirabelle.

As they approached the girl, Javen shortening his strides to keep pace with Ashina, Mirabelle sneered at the sight of Javen. Oh yeah, these two definitely knew each other and obviously weren't on very good terms. With an easy smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes, Javen addressed Mirabelle, "Hi Belle. How's it hangin'?"

"What's it to ya, Demon? I thought Rufus would have thrown you out by now. Too bad he hasn't noticed you yet."

Ashina felt Javen stiffen at Mirabelle's words. Obviously there was no love lost between these two, but Ashina just didn't have the energy to figure out what the problem was. "Look, could we just get some clothes and get me to my room so I can get to a bed? I'm running on reserve strength here, guys." Mirabelle cast one more scornful look in their direction and then started up the stairs without a word.

As Ashina followed with Javen's assistance, she took in her surroundings. At the top of the stairway they entered a hall with doors lining the left side. She assumed each door led to a room that could be rented. Each door was made of the same roughened wood and they were each numbered. The monotony of the hall was broken by pictures and tables strategically placed between certain doors, giving the place a sense of hominess. On the right side were more doors, but these had no numbers and, while decorated as strategically as the left side, there was a sense of emptiness, as if those particular rooms weren't used often. Storage? Probably. Glancing ahead again, Ashina went back to ignoring her surroundings and realized that she had missed some quiet exchange between Mirabelle and Javen. Mirabelle had a serious chip on her shoulder.

Eyes narrowed, Mirabelle paused at the end of the hall in front of one of the doors on the right side. "Here ya go. This is where you'll be staying. You can send your pet on his way and I'll just run to my room and get your clothes. The door only locks from the inside because our customers know better than to come into one of these rooms uninvited." The last was said with a look of contempt cast toward Javen. Javen stiffened once more and his green eyes blazed with anger as he looked at Mirabelle, but still he said nothing. Obviously he was trying to please Ashina, although she had no idea why. With a nod at Mirabelle, she stepped past the girl and opened the door to her room, looking around.

As she stepped over the threshold, she realized that she was in a sitting room, with a couch and two chairs arranged in a charming manner around an oriental style rug in the center of the floor. Tables flanked each end of the sofa, within easy reach of both sofa and chairs and there were sconces on the wall to allow for gentle lighting and lamps standing beside each of the chairs. Just behind the sofa was a partially opened door that led to another room. From where she was standing, she could see a large four poster bed and another door beyond that she assumed led to the bathroom.

Amazed at the generosity of her employer, she turned to ask Mirabelle to give her thanks to Rufus when she realized that the girl and Javen were whispering firecly, some argument Ashina wasn't privy to taking place. Annoyed that Mirabelle seemed to have a penchant for pissing people off, she spoke with less courtesy than she had intended, "Mirabelle, I could use those clothes now if you don't mind." As the girl turned on her heel and stalked off in a huff to fetch the clothes, Ashina regarded Javen. He still stood in the hall, but now a sullen expression lighted the green of his eyes. He leaned back against the wall in a nonchalant manner, but Ashina could almost feel the waves of anger rolling off of him. She realized he had made no move to enter her private apartments, and wondered if he was still trying not to scare her.

Hoping to set the boy at ease, she tilted her head to the side, "Javen, I know you promised not to try anything, but that doesn't mean you can't come into my sitting room. That's the purpose of a sitting room, to entertain guests." With a gentle smile, she waited. "No, I can't come in without explicit invitation. Not many people know that, but unless it's a public place, we can't enter." And with that, Javen leaned his head back against the wall, lids lowering over turbulent green eyes. Standing there, with his wings tucked against his back so that he could lean against the wall, Javen appeared as any other human teenage boy. But Ashina knew something wasn't quite right. She didn't get a sense of evil from Javen, just lonliness.

Well, she was alone too, it seemed. It wouldn't hurt her to befriend the boy and there was no doubt in her mind that he didn't seek to trick or hurt her. Why she was so sure of this, she had no idea. After all, she had met him less than an hour ago in a crowded tap room. "Javen, I invite you into my apartments." The boy's eyes popped wide at that statement. It was as if he hadn't expected her to invite him in. How odd. Pushing away from the wall now, a wide grin crossed his features and he walked through the door with an expression mixed with wonder and joy. All of this emotion over a simple invitation? Ye Gods, what kind of life had this boy/demon led that a simple invitation could render such happiness?

Ashina sank onto the sofa, her legs finally protesting at so much abuse, and studied Javen for a moment. For some reason, she got the sense that something was seriously wrong between him and Mirabelle. Now that she had a room and the girl was gone to fetch clothes, she could question him and, to be honest, her naturual curiousity was peaked despite her exhaustion. "So, Javen, what's the deal with you and Miss I-Hate-The-World?"

Javen shrugged as he sat on the arm of the sofa. "She hates me. I despise her." Uh oh. Javen was being awful reticent for a demon who had almost blown up her eardrums with his chatter in the tap room. "Yeah, but why?" Again, Javen shrugged, but this time, a light of hurt entered his green eyes and he lowered his gaze to the floor. "She and I used to have a thing before I went through the change and my wings sprouted. She didn't know what I was. I didn't know what I was either, but she didn't believe me. Everyone knew we were together, but after the change she went around telling people I had put some sort of spell on her to make her want me. Then, one night, she invited me up to her room, telling me she loved me and couldn't help herself, in spite of the change. I believed her and followed her, but after she invited me in she started screaming. Rufus and two of his boys came charging up the stairs, thinking she was being murdered. She told them I was trying to rape her." Another shrug, this time more stiffly.

Ashina considered his story for a moment, "But why would they believe her? You guys hadn't...weren't...." She didn't know how to finish and blushed at her own thoughts. "No, we weren't. She ripped the bodice of her dress as she screamed and pulled at her hair. I thought she was having a fit until she told them I had tried to rape her. Then I understood." Yeah, Ashina understood too. Mirabelle had set him up because she hadn't loved him enough to look past the fact that he was half demon. Sure, there were lots of little bitches in the world, but Mirabelle could be their leader. Forget fighting the Army of Darkness. Ashina would like to take out the Army of Bitches.

It was then that Ashina realized why Rufus made it a point to throw Javen out of the tavern when he appeared. That spiteful little cat had made Javen a pariah. No one wanted to be around a "rapist" who had been convicted without benefit of a trial. Even if Rufus had eventually realized Mirabelle's little scheme, he didn't strike Ashina as the type to back down from any stance or admit he might have been wrong. Arrogance was the name of the road that led to Hell. With a sigh, Ashina rose to her feet once more and patted Javen on his upper arm. There was nothing she could do to help him, but she COULD be his friend. "Well, you're welcome here any time Javen. I trust you and I know you didn't do it." She didn't know how she knew. She just did. For some reason, she thought that if he had done it, she would have sensed his lie. But he hadn't made any untoward advances since they had been left alone. Even if she were alone with a rapist, no one would want her looking like this anyway.

"Hey, Javen, stay as long as you like. I'm going to go take a bath. Just tell Mirabelle to leave the clothes on my bed." Shock crossed his features as the words left her mouth. No one had believed him when he'd told them he hadn't touched Mirabelle. Not even his own mother. She had accused him of being just like his father. He had been spawned of a rape and his mother had kept him, not realizing that demons didn't sprout their wings until their 16th birthday. She had assumed her humanity had won out over his father's demonic powers. And, in that, she had been right. While his father was inherently evil and felt no remorse for the grief he brought to the world, Javen was a mixture of human and demon and his mother had raised him to be a good, strong man. To protect rather than victimize. To love, rather than hate. He had the powers of a demon, but the heart of a human. And all of that was thanks to his mother. Who thought that just because he had wings and powers, he must be scum. "Uh...sure."

Ashina turned and walked into the bedroom. She had noticed the shocked look on Javen's face, but had not commented. He obviously needed someone to believe in him, and despite only having known him a short time, Ashina felt connected to him. She wasn't a pedophile. What she felt for him wasn't sexual. It was more like some inner motherly instinct had kicked in and she felt the need to defend and befriend him because apparently no one else had. Walking into the bathroom, Ashina discarded her clothes and ran the water to the perfect temperature. She stepped into the tub and then sank into the warm water, letting it soothe her aching muscles. Dipping her head under the water, she ran her fingers through the tangles of her hair, freeing most of the mud, and then surfaced again. As she looked at the dirty water, disgust filled her. Someone had seriously screwed her over and whoever had done it would pay for it.

She used her toes to remove the stopper from the tub and let the muddy water drain out. Then, replacing the stopper, she ran another warm bath. Resting her head on the back of the tub, she closed her eyes as the warmth of the water flowed over her skin and into her muscles, soothing and relaxing her. This had been a very long day. She had a job. A fake name. And now a demon companion that needed defending. Yep, life was definitely full of surprises.
 
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