What a cute little view… She had arrived there by walking. Now, how long did it take her to walk? Walking that looong very deserted path of nothingness? Well, in fact it only took her a day to get up there—and now there she was. Doing what exactly? Certainly this bright and shining day could perhaps be a perfect day to watch the view over this very abandoned tower like building. But no, she came there to well… Hide. Hide and seek maybe. It was the grasslands—Which she had recently ventured in after a little while. She loved the very green green grass of the vast soil scattered around the slight barely noticeable hills. Loved the scent of pollen, and dust. She could say, this place was far from her liking. Not like her likings mattered—She hadn’t come there for the view. Days ago had she came to face another ‘Client’ in Lómëdor and ever since then, there had been these people chasing her out of the city. She assumed she had just assassinated a very well known man… Weren’t her problem, but the guy never said. Maybe next time, they should at least tell her before she killed off someone else. Seesh.

Damn people these days.

Not out of breath, she walked up the flights of stairs attempting to reach somewhere at the top. Like they said, the princess is always found at the top of the tower, waiting for her savior. Her heels clicked against the mud floor, and her short cut up hair bounced as she took the steps upward. Even in a place that didn’t seem so belonging in, she still kept an alert eye, and listened carefully for any sounds except for the ones she made. Okay, the small red puffy scar on her right cheek was unattractive, okay, her hair may be looking a bit on the wild side, okay, she may be looking like crap on this exact second and not even notice it. She kept the same intense, yet blank stare which hid her feelings and thoughts, and still became silent and mute, not willing to even think at the moment. tick tick tick. It was the only sound heard through the tall tower, the only sound that came from her, the only sound she actually wanted to hear. Or maybe not. In fact, seeing someone right at that exact same moment could do very well for a girl like her. She could really use the help of someone’s stupidity at the moment…

Muse low. Will to succeed fading away. The demon girl made her way at the top stair, she kept heading up until she got to the first sense of flat ground, now slowing down her pace. Her dark green eyes scanned the room for a second, and once she realized no one was there, she headed deep into it, circling around the flight to the first open window. The sun was up ahead, and by the looks of it could she figure it was already 4 PM. A great time for the sun to devour ones soul at that second. Great thanks to the man who chased her—She would hate to be under that extreme heat. At least then she had a shadow to hide under.

Without any thought she put her elbows on rail of the window, leaning herself looking downward to the very distant ground, down to the very depressing state of view. Clay like rocks were seen down below, a very dangerous placement as to the fact any one could jump out of that same exact window, and possibly fall into doom. Oh, what a nice sight. She bent one knee, just looking down, remembering through her memories—The numerous times she forcefully pushed one down a cliff. Forcefully, and carelessly doing it without any care—her feelings diminished as she kept that one look of nothing… of excitement. Evil as she may be, that was just her—not caring. Well, she may care for her own joy and enthusiasm of another’s pain. But she never really says that part of the story… what would her clients think? Oh wait. They don’t think, they have no choice if they suddenly became her client. Although sometimes she would feel like her living was a pretty bad choice… A very bad way of going off.

Oh stop, I forgot. She doesn’t care.

Ciarán strode through the heath land, long strides easily eating the distance between here and there. He didn't really know where he was going any more, but for now, he really didn't care. He just kept his heading vaguely south-easterly, and hoped he would find a sign, somewhere to head him to where he needed to go.
Time became fluid in the endless rolling plains, skipping from minutes to hours, to days, flowing on and on, an inevitable stream towards.... what? Ciarán wished he knew. He wondered if anyone knew. A sigh escaped his lips, and flitted across the open fields, disappearing into the distance.

Still, it was good to be away from the city. Lómëdor was a fascinating place, sure enough, but there was too much hype. Too many emotions attached to every facet of life, like rime on a dark glass, obscuring what was really there. But then, in a city like that, that was probably the point…

Looking up, and shielding his eyes against the sun, Ciarán was startled to see a huge dilapidated tower just ahead of him, rising from the dusty ground; a stark grey monolith against the azure sky. He looked around, then up at the sky, trying to gauge what time it was. Giving up, he shrugged to himself, and decided to investigate the tower, knowing that it would at least give him shelter for the night, as opposed to sleeping in the open again, trying to stay semi-alert against whatever was roaming these plains.

Marching onwards, it wasn't looking before he was standing before the large oaken door. He looked up, at the heights of the tower, and then around, behind him, and finally back at the door. Pushing it open, he glanced inside, then walked in, noticing that no-one was in there. Despite the blazing heat outside, it was dank and cool inside, and there was a constant dripping from somewhere out of sight.

Noticing nothing but dust from outside on the ground floor, Ciarán decided to continue upstairs. Peering into the gloom, he saw nothing, but trod carefully, trying to mask his footsteps as much as possible, and began climbing slowly, running his left hand across the rough stone on the inside of the stairwell.

"upwards and onwards," he thought to himself, climbing slowly.

It was nauseating… the sounds of drips from the ceiling which kept this very slow, and walking rhythm that seemed like it would keep going forever and always. She just listened. Listening to the drowning echoes of drips. The small faint sounds of water that could have been there since the beginning of time. Jeeze I need to get out more… She thought to herself as she then began to tap her fingers against the clay like rock—its rhythm parallel to the drips of water. It was days like these when she drowned herself in pointless annoyance in everything surrounding her.

Maybe it’s because of her paranoia, but she is able to keep an alert eye on small things… Like the footsteps heard from out beneath the tower… The modest sound of bare hands scrapping against thick clay, or the simple tone of whisper coming from ones mouth… But that was just her. And that’s what she did for a living— covering through her lifetime of doing nothing productive what so ever. Okay… Maybe killing people was her day-to-day job—But nothing ever exciting happens… It was always the same thing over and over again. Screams… Faints… Tears… Honestly people these days—they never got over themselves. Can’t she have a little peace and quiet after a while of tiring her ars off?

Back to the unheard of noise coming from below. Without moving from her spot, she closed her eyes, listening to this new coming intruder. Yes intruder. Why the hell should someone come in her territory. Okay, so this tower may not be her territory but still, she’s occupying it for the night, Intruders shouldn’t be found here. She found this an invasion of her good space…

Sighing once, she moved herself from the rail, and came to the steps of the staircase, taking small scarcely moving steps downward. One step, two-step, three step. Until she stopped, instead now waiting for the impostor to come toward her. He was heading upward, wasn’t he? She took a seat on the one step, legs stretched outward, listening to the very soft footsteps of the person walking upward toward her… closer and closer would it come… She stayed her position, seeing the image of the shadow he casted on the wall now coming closer—soon emerged an image of a man who looked about… in his twenties. That’s all the information she needed to know.

For a second she just glared, this fierce glare that read out ’What the hell are you doing here? And I suggest you turn back around.’ Until she smiled softly, a very striking yet fake smile that would qualify as a smirk. ”Why… now what do we have here?” She asked seductively, rising from her spot as she came closer. ”A wandering man finding his way up in this tower?” She walked toward him, down the steps in small glides, until she came about two steps away from him.

With that, she then placed her arm on the wall, blocking him from his path up the flight of stairs—Her pale gray eyes glaring down at him as she waited for his response.

Ciarán looked up suddenly when he heard the voice above him, having been too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice anyone. Or maybe it was the wraithlike aspect to her, that made her footsteps seem like silence. He looked up and then down her body, taking in her smooth physique, short black hair and cold grey eyes.
They were the more fearsome bit of her visage; cold eyes. Dead eyes. Eyes that could see through you, and could watch the life fade from your eyes without a flicker of emotion.

In fact, her entire body almost reeked of darkness, of mystery. Her hair was the sort of black that conjured images of starless skies and endings. Her lips were a cold line, harsh and unforgiving. Another end. There seemed to be something... something otherworldly about this girl. She didn't seem quite human.

He stopped where he was, one foot a step above the other, and placed his staff down on the step, where he leant upon it, and looked up at the woman, matching her gaze, as she glared fiercely at him. He almost took a step back, her eyes like vitriol, but stayed where he was, holding out.
"Why… now what do we have here?" her voice rolled languidly through the chill air, "A wandering man finding his way up in this tower?"
She began to stride towards him, and again, Ciarán had to fight the impulse to step back, but he remained standing normally, leaning on his staff.

He watched her casually lean over to place her hand against the wall, watched the subtle undertones of her body. She as good as screamed "you're not going any further. This is mine."

"Exactly," Ciarán said quietly to her. "Just a wanderer, looking for some shelter for the night. This place yours?"

Softly she let out a little laugh along with the formation of a smirk on her face. She didn’t say anything toward his question, yet tilted her head to the side with the look of wit. ”What’s for you to know?” She asked as if in an attempt to urge him to question once again. She then scratched her fingernails on the clay wall, making a very piercing high pitched noise. She examined the faint marks left on the barrier, and back at the boy, who she started to come closer —her eyes not turning away from his.

Maybe it’s just her nature—she would often go into these stages… These stages that might seriously put her in severe danger. She would find entertainment in some of the most sadistic and horrid ways… Poor boy. She could think of many ways of what to do at the moment… Many thoughts of obscurity and low innocents.

She came to the point where she stood just one step in front of him, being on a step higher making them almost the same height. Their faces were just a half inch away, and she could swear she could just feel his paced breathing against her pale skin. ”I sense something around you… Demon-like…” She said quietly, and brought one hand up slowly against his cheek, running it down gently like feeling the wings of a butterfly. Her watery colored eyes scanned his face as if reading what he felt, as if reading an open book. ”Amazingly you look human enough…” She then added as if that would simply do.

Giving a roguish smile, she moved her head closer so her chin came right at his left shoulder, her face turned to his ear. The soft breaths of hers came to a whisper as she spoke calmly yet casually to him. ”Tell me… Why would a boy with such a handsome face of yours come to find a stay in a rather… poor place such as this?” She moved the hand on his cheek around his neck, touching the dark strands of his braids. Her two fingers played with the strands waywardly. ”If I had any choice at all… I would rather sleep in the tall grasslands… but that’s just me…”

”Yet… It’s fine with me if you’re planning to stay… I love company…” She then added in a quieter tone of voice, yet loud enough to hear as she spoke directly in his ear. She brushed her thin lips against his cheek, moving slowly toward his neck teasingly, and mischievously.