Is this a relationship? (Souris Vs Beowulf)

[Ry]

Souris stared at Beowulf, miffed. She had lowered herself to cavort with this - this - ungrateful Corvid! and he dared refuse her? Low ranked Avian male! Lips drew back from her muzzle in a snarl. She'd only made one small request! She shifted angrily, hands sinking deeper into soft olive green feathers, threatening, but not yanking any feathers - yet.

Beowulf was one gorgeous biped, and even in a temper, Souris could still appreciate the masculine beauty beneath her paws. Lean and sculpted, with the delicious Josiggy yellow and cream brindling, she adored him. He was charming and well-mannered, and would serve her purposes admirably, except for this strange reluctance. Why?

Her tail was long and bushy, her limbs were long and fluffy, she no longer had rodent feet. Her ears still folded back, and could not stand up straight. She was reasonably attractive. And she was from the Gardens, so she was exotic. She didn't see the problem.

[Yuiven]

(Edit: My apologies. Ryn's last post reminded me that I had completely forgotten to post my attack. ^^

Lying flat on his back, Beowulf slowly but surely raised his head to met Souris' peevish glare with a defiant black look of his own. A low guttural noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl rumbled from deep within his chest. 'Crazy Bitch! What was she thinking asking me something like that on the first date?!' He drew a sharp breath through his beak as white claws began to pierce the tender flesh hidden underneath the protective cover of his feathers. Why on earth did he let Jarvis hook him up with Souris on this blind date in the first place?

He had contemplated his love life, or lack of it, and realized that this could possibly be his last chance for romance. The whole situation had unsettled, yet at the same time, intrigued him. Well, what was one afternoon out of his life? May as well go for it...

Jarvis was a dead man. All awkwardness aside, a date was supposed to be fun- not hazardous to his health! This would be the first and last time Beowulf allowed a friend to become involved with his love life. He'd find a way somehow, someway to wreak vengeance on that meddling chipmunk! First, he had to get this hussy off of him.

Still effectively pinned to the ground, the biped crow reached out with a free hand in the midst of overturned chairs, spilt food and drinks, and broken dishes, to blindly, desperately grope for a weapon since he was currently disabled from summoning his large broadsword. His fingers moved over a half-eaten sandwich and a fork, then grazed cool ceramic. Patting this mysterious object a few times, he confirmed it was a mug. This could do quite nicely. Looping his fingers through the handle, Beowulf gathered all of his strength and, with an enraged yell, clubbed the mouse upside her head, hoping the force was strong enough to knock her off his chest. "GET OFF OF ME!"

Moderate Magical Ability: When activated, he gains an immediate proficiency with any weapon that he picks up. This can be activated and deactivated at will.

[Ry]

Souris quailed at the defiant darkness in those beautiful green orbs, but she refused to let go until he explained his reluctance to grant her this simple request. What was the matter? The way he'd reacted, you think she'd tried to follow in her mother's footsteps, and tried to ask Beowulf to let her knock him up, instead of the other way around.

He was over-reacting, surely. She shifted her hips urgently where she straddled him, trying to keep her balance while he shifted, her whiskers twitching as she sensed movement. Her body flooded with adrenaline, disconcertly alert, as something ceramic grazed the side of her head, then connected, hard. Dazed, she loosened her hold as her vision swam, and she swayed from side to side, shocked. She obediently complied, lifting her hind leg over, and sat down, her body clear. "Don't hurt me," she pleaded, her voice silky smooth, despite the rising nausea,"I-I didn't mean to hurt you." She choked, unhappily.

Circlet ability: 2008 Birthday

Her voice is strangely silky and smooth. Cards rank 8 and below are very suddenly willing to answer to her every reasonable beck and call. (Meaning, if she tells them to jump off a cliff, the charm will be broken and they will probably run off or belt her a good one, depending on the crit X3 Reasonable meaning, if she stands in the entrance to the sandwich shoppe and proclaims how lovely it would be to have a drink...3 people will probably drop to their knees and offer her theirs.)

She will not be able to sham people out of hard earned items, some food and possibly some "ahem" personal favors, yes. Free items from any NPC headed shoppes, no...though they might be slightly more willing to give her a slight discount if they are 8's or less <3

[Yuiven]

(Oh, Ryn! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for the long delay between posts, but I came down with the worst cold I've ever had the misfortune to have. ; Anyway, I hope you like this.)

An incorporeal voyeur to this date, unseen and unheard to the rest to the world save for one special individual, stood alone in his biped form on the romantic sidelines. Persevering in his role, Wiglaf reminisced over the events which led up to this debacle.

After the date was arranged, Beowulf had preened himself and hailed a carriage to transport him to the Four Leaf Clover Café in Capital City. At first, Wiglaf was so overwhelmed by the possibility of a girlfriend for his best friend he let his happiness blind him. Beowulf wouldn't be alone anymore (and in Wiglaf's private opinion that man needed to get laid!) Even if he wasn't formally attached to Beowulf as a ghost to a chosen haunt, Wiglaf wouldn't have missed this for the world!

Warning bells had suddenly rung as Souris approached the meeting place; something about her wasn't right. By the Suits, she- she was a Yarrow!

Wiglaf had begun to panic, he hadn't reckoned on this at all. He had all but begged with Beowulf not to proceed with this date, hounding him to try to find an excuse so that he could avoid being maimed or killed, but his pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Beowulf clearly seemed taken with her. Despite his misgivings, Wiglaf hoped for the best, for his friend's sake. From the moment when he first laid eyes on Souris, he knew that mouse was going to be trouble. She was, after all, a Yarrow and thus has the stigma of her region going against her.

Proper introductions were made, then Beowulf followed Souris inside. The two were greeted by a waitress and escorted to a pair of seats located near the window, where their meals were ordered. The conversation flowed easily with the usual 'getting to know you' banter; even laughter between bites. Beowulf had sat close, but not too close, and he'd had plenty of time to notice that Souris was undeniably pretty. Just when things are going great, the poor schmuck got dropped with that bombshell:

"Will you be the father of my children?"

It was completely out of the blue. Now Wiglaf wasn't by any means a dating expert, but he wouldn't put that down as a standard first date question. You don't have sex with a stranger on the first date. Relying on his own common sense, Beowulf had rebuffed her gently, to no avail. While Souris was adamant in her demand, he still wouldn't give in to her. Then, in a fit of rage, fur and feathers flew as she had lunged across the table, knocking him to the floor.

And, as they say, the rest is history.

Once Souris dutifully climbed off the crow, Wiglaf face-palmed and groaned low in his throat, shaking his head as Beowulf scrabbled back, badly shaken, trying to get away from her, while at the same time tangling up his limbs and landing on his butt. "Why didn't you take off for the Highland Hills when I told you to?!" the ghost began to berate his chosen haunt. "I dropped a big hint that this blind date was going to go badly when I screamed: 'AHHH! Yarrow Amazon! Head for the Highland Hills, Beowulf!'" The Percheron gave a snort. "You should have listened to me."

Gripping the edge of a nearby table with both hands, Beowulf hoisted himself up, trembling as he staggered to his feet. He wanted to tell him, 'I know that. You don't need to tell me. Don't you think I've already told myself this? I should have known better...'

The honeyed tone of his date's voice caught Beowulf's attention. Turning his head towards Souris, his turquoise gaze fixed on her, causing his eyes to glaze over as she bewitched him. "Hurt you?" he murmured in disbelief. He stared into those alluring topaz eyes, framed within that soft, round face. There was a trickle of crimson that looked out of place trailing down the side of her head. It would really take a lot for someone to be able to harm her willingly. Beowulf's eyes grew wide when the realization dawned on him. 'Oh no, what have I done?' He hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Souris."

[Ry]

(*pets* Glad to see you feeling better <3 'sides, Wiglaf is worth the wait *BEAM*)

Had Beowulf been watching carefully, he would have seen the slight, almost perceptible relaxation in the mouse's body, as her date apologised. She tried not to look like she was trying to hard not to whimper. She had heard about the moderate magical ability that Hearts gained, but this was her first experience being on the receiving end. He'd simply picked up a ceremic mug, and had immediate proficiency as he'd used the item as a weapon against her.Struggling to focus against the intense pain, and work through the shock, she was relieved that her new ability had granted her a small reprieve. She would have the time to recoup, salvage the date, and approach him from a different angle when the shock had worn off. And the blame would not rest on the gentlemanly Jarvis.

In all honesty, the chipmunk had been reluctant to arrange for her to meet Beowulf, but she, and the circlet she wore, had convinced him. She needed the blind date to build reliable contacts, in order to build her clientle. At the same time, she had to be certain that her own meager abilities would stand her in good stead against a more formidable opponent. The corvid was a respectable Card in the Court of Hearts, and a good start. Now, if she just could keep her head down (literally), she might actually succeed.

She folded her ears back further, unhappily, as a splitting headache set in, absently aware that the practised gesture only embellished her appeal, gently reaching over to hug him. Not you're fault, her hug seemed to say, I forgive you.

(Unfortunately, this takes us away from fighting. Unless Wiglaf would care to assist us? XD)