Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-11588669-20131029012632/@comment-11588669-20131105012458

When nothing answered him, he was on edge. Sliding his knife out of it's sheath, Nox hit the activator on the door. It opened, and he stepped through. To stare.

She looked....great. The dress looked stunning on her, though it was a bit short. He flushed and stuttered.

"S-sorry....I just needed a bit of help with the chestplate...I'll just go now..." He closed the door. Leaning against the wall, the now flustered male slid down it and sighed.

"She looks damn good....Tristan clearly knows how to dress to impress. Fuck." The mercenary flicked the blade across the room, grinning as it sunk into a bust. Dead center of the eye, a perfect kill shot. Looking at it, he frowned.

It was all he knew: killing, arsony, things that would be illegal without his liscance. That and how to count money. He wasn't some high born aristocrat who could spend their lives on frivilous items and trivial activities. He was a creature of necessity.

And Nox wasn't sure if that could cut it anymore.

He was already threatened by the Noble. Those night eyes hid someone who was afraid of others, so they closed themselves off. He wasn't an insicure individual. It was just with those close to him.

At least, that's what he told himself. But the truth stared him in the face: He was afraid of losing her to some idiot with money, and a passion for collecting as many women as possible.

Oh, how low the fabled Winter's Night has sunk...