Sorcerer Stabber Orphen Fan Fiction ❯ Satin Blaze ❯ Lovely Shaltanou ( Prologue )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
:: Satin Blaze ::

Sorcerous Stabber Orphen

Sequel to Velvet Flames

Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.

Rating: PG

Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai+Hartia, possible/eventual Orphen/Majic

Warnings: AU, weirdness

Notes: Eh... I know in Velvet Flames I kept promising eventual Orphen/Majic, but when it started to get long in chapters I decided to turn this into a series. I've REALLY deteriorated from my original idea, but this is fun anyway. No longer does the plot focus on the Tower of Fangs, but now around and in Totokanta! Fun! ^^

Thanks to my muse, the almighty Kat-chan who should be worshiped for her god-like musing skills, for the idea for the prologue. XD




He was gorgeous. That's all there was too it, really. He was easily handsome with his messy brown hair and slanted, red-tinted eyes, his body just beginning to finish growing into that of a young adult. He had the trademark broad shoulders of a man, the natural narrowing of the hips and long very, VERY nice legs.

Yes, she was definitely interested now.

With a flip of her curly dark hair, the young woman stood and made her way over to the man sitting at the counter, his eyes closed as he sipped at his soda, appearing almost bored. He didn't even notice her, which irked her at first, but then maybe he was just dense. She took a seat just beside him, smiling coyly in his direction. Still he kept his eyes downcast, his expression blank. She had to cough to finally get his attention.

"Hi," she said in what she believed was a throaty, sexy voice. If he thought so, he didn't show it. Instead he simply blinked before looking away again. She frowned. "I said, hello," she tried again. This time he blatantly ignored her.

Hard to get, eh? She was used to it. She slid her stool closer to his, making sure to bump his leg with her own. "So what brings you to Shaltanou?" she questioned, referring to the town.

He finally looked at her, glancing down at the knee pressing into his thigh and said in a cool voice, "Would you mind removing your knee? It's unpleasant."

For a moment she felt like he'd slapped her, but no, that wasn't possible. He was just very GOOD at the hard-to-get game. She always won and she loved a challenge.

She smiled quickly, complying. "Of course. My apologies."

Then he went right back to ignoring her. She attempted to start a conversation many times, but he played deaf until he finally snapped at her.

"Excuse me," he said curtly, getting to his feet. "I'd like my bill," he said to the bartender.

"Of course," the stubby, middle-aged man responded, disappearing into the kitchen.

The young woman laid a soft hand on the young man's shoulder, not noticing his left eyebrow twitching. "Please," she murmured. "I just... Want to get to know you," she said innocently, moving closer to his ear until she was breathing in it.

The young man jerked away but she went right after him, unfortunately knocking them both over in a rather embarrassing position for the world to see. She laughed just as the bartender came back, slip of paper in hand.

He took one look at the scene and went white. "What the hell is this?!" he roared.

The young woman suddenly jerked off the man, turning a piteous look on the older man. "Oh, Daddy," she wailed. "He was putting the moves on me! He touched me, asked me if I liked it... And then... And then..." She sniffled.

The young man leapt to his feet, glaring daggers at the young woman. "What kind of idiot daughter do you have?" he said angrily. "If anything, SHE was putting the moves on ME--"

He didn't get a chance to finish. "Get out!" the bartender spluttered, running around the counter and to his daughter's side, helping the sobbing girl up. No tears fell from her eyes, but the old man was obviously not only biased, but convinced. "Get out of this TOWN. We don't need men like you corrupting our daughters!"

The man said tightly, "Only on one condition. Tell me where the Sword of Baltanders is."

"I don't know what rubbish you speak of," the bartender barked. "OUT!"

Thoroughly disgusted and somewhat disappointed, the wandering sorcerer turned on his heel and promptly left, happy, for once, to be kicked out of town.