"You don't understand." Despite his efforts at control, the words left Valen in a forceful snarl, and his hands were tightened into painful fists. "You couldn't possibly . . . what do you know about pain? About anger?"

When silence met him, he snorted and folded his arms. Finding it difficult to keep eye-contact, he settled for maintaining an air of vigilance as he stared out the nearby window. "I know you mean well . . . I do, truly. But my fiendish blood cannot be swept aside so easily -- !" He shook his head. "Maybe I am less of a man than a beast . . . and maybe, for whatever reason . . . that excites you. But I . . . I am not meant for some twisted sense of amusement!" He spat the last words out, lithe tail whipping though the air in the darkened room so quickly it nearly cracked audibly.

Silence.

Valen forced himself to let it drag out before, reluctantly, looking over his shoulder. A trickle of warmth seeped into his blue eyes at what he saw; it didn't thaw them completely, but it was a step towards it. " . . . I . . . I am sorry. Sometimes . . . " He paused, chewing his lower lip once in thought. " . . . at times, I find myself guilty of the same predjudices of which I accuse others. And you . . . you truly do care, don't you?" He turned around fully, a fine line of consternation appearing on his brow. "But why?" he said, a note of pleading in his voice.

He crossed the room in two long strides, kneeling and taking the smooth, pale hand all in one motion. "I don't know what you're asking of me, my lady." he said huskily, all traces of anger now gone from his voice, though confusion reigned in his cobalt eyes. "And I don't know wether or not I can give it to you. All I can do, is -- "

Someone hammered on the chamber door.

Making a sound of disgruntlement, Valen fell silent, jaw clenching. Maybe if he didn't answer --

"TIEFLING!" they bawled, the door actually buckling a little in it's frame. "I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, SHADOWBREATH! And I know you took it! Give it BACK!"

All but snarling, Valen's head snapped around. "I'm busy, Aarin! I'm afraid you'll have to come back later if you're that eager to get various parts of your anatomy handed to you in alphabetical order!" He allowed himself a slight smile. Yes. That should do it.

But it didn't.

"I NEED IT!" Aarin Gend all but howled angrily, as though Valen hadn't spoken. "I know you took my Real Leading Lady Doll, and I want it BACK!" Bits of grit sifted down from the ceiling and the door gave a distressed groan as he beat on it again. "You aren't the only one who needs to practice, hells damn your infernal hide!"

For an instant, Valen debated ignoring him. The door would undoubtably hold. But as the noise itself reached an infernal quality, he finally snatched the stiff mannequin out of the chair he had propped it in, golden curls obscuring one blue, painted, blandly smiling eye, and wrenched the door open. "Fine." he snarled, shoving it into the other man's arms. "Take it! Take the accursed thing! But I swear to you, Gend, I'll come looking for you if she ends up leaving me for some spoony bard with a higher persuasion check!"

Slamming the door in Gend's face offered only a minimal amount of satisfaction.

After a moment of seething, Valen stuck out his tongue cheekily and furiously at the closed door.

There. That was much better.