Albel sighed to himself, taking a moment to sharpen his blade as he glanced down toward the fallen creatures piled beneath him. It wasn't anything new for his sword to be so stained lately. He paused mid-stroke when he heard a noise behind him, immediately turning around and swiping toward the sound. To his faint surprise, a familiar redhead was standing there, her daggers raised. Her eyes were narrowed, and he stepped back, raising an eyebrow, mocking. What did the maggot want now?
Without a word, she leaped forward, her daggers clashing against his sword as he raised it instinctively. His expression shifted dangerously. "What do you think you're doing, worm?" Didn't she know her place? She was most definitely not strong enough to defeat him on her own. Or was she just testing him?
She simply tossed her head, charging forward again. She was quick, he had to admit, but there was little power in her attacks. Three swipes he guarded, then threw her aside. Nel spun up again, attacking toward him furiously. Whatever he had done to deserve this, he had no idea, but it was starting to irritate him greatly.
"Snap out of it, wench!" he hissed, his clawed arm raising slightly. Before he could stop himself, he moved forward, the claw catching her right at the stomach. He saw the blood spurt from her open wound, and he felt his heart plummet.
Shoot.
He pulled the weapon out, watching as she dropped down to her knees, her eyes widened slightly. One of her daggers dropped, and he frowned down at her as if saying "look what you did."
How was he supposed to explain this to the others?
Suddenly, he felt him body lurch forward, his sword stopping on the woman's neck. What was going on? If he did any further, the woman wouldn't survive!
It was as if he was moving uncontrollably. When the redhead fell forward, he raised the sword high above her, thrusting down with a smooth movement.
Wait......
Aquarian scum or not, he couldn't just kill her, could he?
Right before the sword hit, he fell back, dropping back and losing consciousness.
---
Instantly, he was up in bed, his breathing somewhat quick. A dream, he figured. Or was it a flashback? He couldn't tell anymore. Sitting up carefully, he glanced around, remembering the blood which stained the room. His blood. Or was it? He shook his head carefully, stumbling to the door. If he had indeed hurt Nevelle's daughter, he would be in for a long lecture and possibly more from Woltar. That, and the image of how he had done the deed was definitely not just. Even if she had indeed taken the initiative, it was too brutal. Taking his instinct, he hurried to Nel's room, slamming the door open. "Nel!"
The woman seemed to have been sleeping soundly for a moment until he had barged in, and her eyes opened at exactly the moment he called her name. He saw her mouth move for a moment, muttering something about her goddess of Apris as she sat up. To his surprise, he found she was wearing very little for her pajamas, a spaghetti strapped white top and who knew what below it. One of the straps fell slightly down her shoulder, which made him pause to catch his breath. If he didn't know better, he would have thought her a very sensual being. The way her half-lidded eyes kept blinking lashes and the utter look of vulnerability (Wait, Nel Zelpher vulnerable? Snap out of it, fool! Not even in your dreams!)--
He hadn't come for a show though, and this he reminded himself. The wench seemed to be alive, and that was good.
But d---, as Cliff would put it, she was hot.
Then she spoke, her voice slurred with sleep. "Albel..? What are you doing here now? I hope you're not planning on slitting my throat again."
For once, he was at a loss for words. Not knowing whatever else to do and knowing if he stayed longer he would start thinking thoughts he should never have, he turned aside, getting ready to leave.
"Wait."
He took a moment to think before pausing, refusing to turn back to look at her. He waited for the sound of her sliding on her bathrobe before finally glancing in her direction. She was standing now, as she always did, her hands to her hips and her feet planted well on the ground. Traces of sleep were disappearing from her face and she looked as she normally did now, besides her clothing.
"What did you come here for?"
".............."
"Come on, Nox. This isn't the first time you've barged into my room, I know, but you never call me by my first name."
Che. She noticed. Albel folded his arms calmly, shrugging. "I was just checking up on you, fool."
"Checking up?"
Hm, that was a bad response. "You heard me."
"Why on Elicoor would you be doing that?"
"It's none of your business, maggot!"
The man spun back around, ready to leave again but pausing when he felt her hand on his arm. She pulled him back a few steps and for some odd reason he allowed her to do so. The tugging was weak, almost questioning to see how he would react. She took a few steps forward and shut the door, then turned to look toward him, returning to her normal posture. "I think it's plenty my business if you barge into my room at who knows what time." her voice was angry but her expression was calm, watching him carefully for any change in expression. He gave no such distinction though, and he could tell she felt somewhat annoyed at this too.
"I told you it's none of your business." Albel raised an eyebrow toward her. "But if you're so curious to know, I dreamed that I killed you, that's all."
Nel's eyes widened for a split second and she stepped back, stopping when her back touched the door. "..and what? You came here to make sure I was dead?"
"I came to make sure you were safe, fool. Woltar and the king wouldn't allow for me to go around killing members of that maggot's group. Aquarian scum or not." Of course, he had to explain himself. It would seem like he had some feeling of caring if he hadn't. And Albel the Wicked sure as heck didn't care for this wench standing in front of him. But he did wish that she would adjust her robe, for it was starting to fall open enough for him to see the undershirt she was wearing.
She seemed to notice his glances and folded her arms. "And that was it?"
"What else is there to come here for, worm?"
"............" Nel stepped away from the door, as if allowing him permission to leave. He waited for her to start back toward the bed before taking a step forward.
Quietly, he spoke, much on instinct. "....sorry for waking you up."
It was more of a mutter, he noted, when it came out of his mouth, but it was hard enough for him to speak. Before he was fifteen years of age, it would have been the most normal thing he would say. Albel wasn't born like he had turned out anyway. Only after Glou Nox's death...
"Albel," she started, her voice quiet as well, but loud enough to interrupt his thoughts yet again. "You must really hate me."
"Hm?" He paused, turning to look toward her. Her gaze was lowered and she took a seat on the bed, shaking her head.
"You had a dream that you killed me, correct? It's not that I don't understand how you feel. You already told me how you feel no different toward us all-- to you we'll always only be 'Aquarian scum'."
A nagging voice tugged on him as she spoke, and he frowned, putting a hand on the doorknob. He urged his hand to turn it but it wouldn't, and he shook his head. "............."
"So." Nel finished, her question echoing the one he had asked her in the first night of Peterny. "You hate me, don't you?"
Albel's head spun for a moment, his hand going down toward the Crimson Scourage. The sword itself had asked him who he hated, and although he wished to hate this annoying wench, he knew he didn't. She had spoken the truth to him before, though, and he knew he owed her the same. It was the Aquarian way to trust to earn trust, anyway. Er... not that he ever thought the Aquarian way was any more correct than any other. If anything, the logic was weak. But for this case... The man took a deep breath, then shook his head, keeping his gaze toward the door. His response was quiet. "...no."
She seemed to have caught it. "No?" her voice betrayed her incredulousness and he didn't bother to look toward her. "But.."
"...I don't hate anyone but myself. Understand? I can't hate you, maggot." He thought he felt his sword vibrate slightly, responding to the words echoing how he had gained ownership of the weapon.
He waited a moment for a response, and when he didn't get one, he managed to turn the doorknob just slightly before he felt something warm press against his back. He turned his head faintly, feeling his heart skip a beat when he found she had wrapped her arms around him from behind, giving him a quick squeeze before pulling away. His mind churned for a few moments. Did she just hug him? Did the Aquarian scum come close enough to --
His eyes went toward his hand, which had lingered on the doorknob instead of moving down toward the sword. His clawed arm hung limp, as if it had no objections either. It was an odd feeling, he had to admit. In the last nine years, no one had come close to doing anything similar to that. It was a confusing feeling, and deep down, he knew if any of the others had tried it, he would have had their heads before they could say anything afterwards. Was there something about her that didn't allow him to do so?
"..............."
The redhead looked up toward him for a moment before shaking her head, turning around. "Tomorrow will be a big day. We should get some sleep."
Albel's eyes followed her as she sat back on the bed, and finally he tore his gaze away, opening the door. He managed a quiet "hmph" before exiting the room. Even when he was out of the room, he could still feel the remainder of warmth against his back and the faint scent of strawberries lingering in his nostrils. He raised his free hand to his forehead, frowning. The scum dare touch him without his permission? Bah. He cursed himself inwardly for not immediately pushing her aside. The last thing he needed was any sort of sentiment in the woman. They were merely traveling together, that was all, and they were former enemies. Of course, he had admitted that he did not hate her. He had to admit he didn't hate any of the scum he was traveling with. Dislike, yes. Hate, not quite. That was saved for himself and only himself. Not hating didn't necessarily mean taking a liking to though.
If only he was able to feel like the others, he might not have been so annoyed all of the time. There was no changing him, though, and he knew it-- in the last few years he had only grown worse. The stronger he got, the stronger he needed his opponents to be so he could triumph over them. He had to admit Fayt's victory over him had ruined him for quite some time. That and the bastard Vox not allowing for him to train until he got out of the dungeon. It was a pity he didn't have a chance take the other captain's head instead.
No matter. The red-haired Aquarian hadn't spoken at all about his response toward him. The hug was unexpected and he wondered if even she had planned it out herself. Surprising, since he could have sworn she, like the other women, had been somewhat afraid of him in the beginning.
Well, he decided, the gesture wasn't all so bad, even though he had no idea what it had meant. Surely the wench didn't take a liking to him either. Perhaps it was just another way to show her hatred-- by trying to confuse him with her womanly advances.
He sighed. She wasn't known to be one of the deceitful sorts of wenches. It must be something else. Plus it wasn't as if he minded. He hadn't instantly had his sword to her throat or anything. And, he had to admit, the few times he had attempted to call her by her first name hadn't left a bad taste in his throat like it had to the others. Especially Cliff. Calling that oaf by first name was just... ugh. But it was funny to see the reaction.
That didn't mean that he would be doing so in a regular basis though. Never, in front of Fayt, would he dare call anyone by their first name. He did slip once on Maria's, while in the Gemity weapon shop, but that was only because the worm wouldn't know exactly which scum of the group he was talking about unless he had said so. "The other blue haired maggot" wouldn't have gone too well. Same with the "gun armed fool." That would have gotten negative response from Fayt Leingod, who seemed eager to please all of the people of his group. He especially seemed fond of those in Quark. Albel had overheard a conversation between Cliff and Fayt once where Fayt had been admiring Mirage's beauty. He heard that it wasn't the first time, but he found himself somewhat confused. Mirage was mature, yes. Beautiful? Ehhh.... Maybe she just wasn't his type.
Not like that mattered either. Type or not, he wasn't the kind to get settled on wooing someone just like that. Plus, his "type" just didn't exist in the group. Sophia was closest, but she was much to annoying to speak to and she also tended to scoot away from Albel as much as possible. Come to think of it, the only person who had really willingly talked to him had been Nel. He always shot back a nasty retort or two when she did acknowledge him, but at the very least she had. He remembered he had annoyed her quite a bit by calling her a fool in the caves of barr as well. Well. Once a fool, always a fool. Too bad that same fool was the one who was leaving him in utter confusion when it came to his feelings. Or lack thereof.