Count your lucky stars (K'sel)

[Shiny]

Heavily outlined eyes darted to and fro, looking for any signs of life. The silent figure crouched behind a rather thick tree trunk did not move. The sun had transcended a great portion of the sky while Syrene hunted, although it was rather hard to tell under such a thick canopy of leaves. The sinister 20-turn-old was grateful for the green roof over her head, as it blocked much of the sunlight. The last thing she needed was to have an allergic reaction now, while she was hunting.

The cold was welcome. With her black cloak tucked around her small figure and her Fortian threshold for disgruntling temperatures, she was content. The jungle was nice and quiet - no idiots from the Weyr to grate on her nerves here. That was a good thing for them, because here, nothing would stop her from silencing them with a blade.

Her ears pricked at the dull sound of footsteps against cold earth. Something was coming. She stood silently, completely hidden from view. As the sound grew louder, Syrene adjusted her grip on her blade's handle, spinning to throw the knife at whatever was there.

What her eyes saw barely registered in time to sabotage her own hand mid-throw. Whizzing past the tip of K'sel's nose with microscopic distance, the blade collided with the trunk of a tree. It wobbled side to side, slowing to stick straight out of the wood. The black-clad woman darted from behind her post, glaring at the man she had almost hunted as she went to retrieve her blade, her baby, from the tree. Her aim was amazing, and it was a miracle she had been able to miss him. Not that she really cared about hitting him for any friendly or moral reason. Her blade was already dirty with animal blood; she didn't need to clean off more than she had to, thanks.

"Idiot," she murmured under her breath quietly as she gave a good yank on the handle. It was stuck in there but good - she could throw harder than she thought. Finally managing to pull it out, she held it in her hand, not ready to put it away yet. Who knew what this man would do?

With one hand armed and the other holding a decent-sized dead rodent by its ears, she turned to glare at him. "You are one lucky man. You almost died, just now." She doubted the man would realize how lucky he was. Her aim was so good, it was starting to evolve into a curse. "I suggest you try not to sound like an animal, if you don't want to be hunted," she said coldly. This was all his fault, really.

[Lotty]

All goth chicks were the same.

This is the conclusion he came to, holding back from accompanying the decision with a sage nod; it would do no good to give the would be attacker any sort of real reaction to her trespass, and yes, in his opinion she was on his stomping grounds. She was just one of the many morons who would come and invade his tranquil little kingdom where the shelter of the jungle allowed for the noble savages to roam, wantonly playing with knives, and having the gall to lash out at him. Who did this girl think she was? He had been claiming this section of the woods since the day he was allowed out of the creche, and he was growing rather possessive of it.

"Lucky? Am I now?" His reply was cool and even and as always paired with a cocked eyebrow that meant he was certainly unimpressed with the present company. Why didn't people just say hello? It was a pet peeve of his, that he while being a complete and total degenerate half of the time he could properly greet someone while these northerners - he automatically had her pegged for one since the southern born types usually were already familiar to him, and also weren't so privy to flashing knives - couldn't even form a hello. Of course there were exceptions, but they usually came in the form of the older riders who with a couple turns of experience learned some temperance. The teenagers and youthful ones all marched around like they had something to prove.

Picking at a frayed thread on his fingerless gloves, the rider considered his options. Yes, the immediate thought that popped into her head was to tell her Well I suggest you not be such a cold hearted harpy woman if you want to get laid, but considering that was more or less the route he had taken when running into Karou - the Weyr's other resident Queen of Darkness - he wanted to try something new, something that wouldn't get him slapped preferably. He glanced at the knife she was still brandishing; stabbed was also something he wanted to avoid, though with his sort of dry humor he doubted the feat would be possible. Maybe she should know about all the various little traps that he and F'ur had riddled the jungle with but a few sevendays before? Again, the decision was thrown out and he opted for something entirely different.

He barked.

"Wooof.......grrrrr," and he growled, and he put on his best rabid face that he could, because you know he apparently sounded like an animal, so now he was going to play it up for her. He would even howl if she asked for it, because shards that was just a fun thing to do whether or not you were messing with an easily perturbed agent of doom and gloom. And don't think that he was willing to offer her an explanation. If she thought him psychotic it was that much better for him, because that always left the chance she would just run away and leave him to return to his tree climbing and jumping. Quite the feral child he could look like at times, which he was sure to show off my leaping straight up and grabbing a vine to swing on for a bit.

Now maybe she would go away.

[Shiny]

All Southerners were the same.

"Yes," Syrene said in a slightly exasperated voice. This man didn't count himself lucky, as was expected. K'sel's calm coldness was rather interesting though, and it caused one of Syrene's thin eyebrows to quirk in the same fashion as the man's did. So this one wasn't all rainbows and sunshine? How interesting. She observed his aloof demeanor with a face that was laced with hints of boredom. Suddenly thrown completely off-kilter by what K'sel did next, she wasn't sure what expression to wear.

She blinked at the sudden outburst of barking and growling, grip tightening on the blade's handle. The black-clothed girl stood completely still, assessing the situation. What was the point of this? Why was he making a fool of himself? Was he insane? Perhaps he was mocking her. And just as quickly as her emotionless confusion had come, it left. The corners of her lips turned upwards, eyelids falling slightly as the coldness in her expression melted away. Some kind of sound foreign to her ears escaped her mouth.

Syrene was genuinely laughing.

It was a wonder her face didn't crack. The hand wielding the blade fell, her head tilting skyward as the sound increased a little in volume. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd laughed, it was so long ago. If there had ever been such a time. Why now? Something about this man's attempt at mockery was extremely amusing to her - she was strangely not angered by it at all. Maybe she was just long overdue for a laugh and her brain finally managed to force one out of her at a time it deemed appropriate.

A moment passed, and her head dropped to face K'sel straight-on again. At the realization that actual emotion - a happy emotion - was showing on her face, she froze it immediately, or tried to, at least. The blade came up between them again, but somehow, its threat was lost. Amusement swirled in Syrene's dark brown eyes, a more sinister-looking smile gracing her cold lips.

K'sel had just gained himself a little respect from her. He had some spunk. And really, she'd needed that laugh, whether she would admit it or not (and she definitely wouldn't, even if it killed her). At any rate, Syrene approved. She wouldn't kill him. "You forgot to howl," she said monotonously, smirk still gracing her lips as she slid her knife into its strap on her thigh. There... easily accessible, but she didn't see a need for it at the moment. Although K'sel would probably overlook the action, Syrene hardly ever put her knife away when around others, especially others she didn't know. Was it that K'sel had somehow gotten into her good books? (Not that her good books were, well, good per se. That was still better than her bad books, though. Definitely.)

She took a slow step to the side, eyes watching the growling and barking man amusedly as her other foot followed the first, and so on. She was starting to make a slow circle around him, analyzing him like a predator. (Except she actually had no intention to hurt him, surprisingly.) But K'sel had brought her guard down a little - which was unfortunate for her, because if her guard had been up all the way, she would have noticed the trap she was about to walk into.

She stepped on a particularly leafy patch of ground, the difference making her head snap to look. She'd stepped on something that felt like a vine suspended slightly above ground. Even her lightning-fast reflexes couldn't save her this time as she was dragged upwards. A net had erupted from the ground to engulf her. She sat in a rigid clump inside the net, her lightness not putting any kind of strain on the vines that attached it to the branch that the sac!Syrene hung from.

She blew raven black strands of hair out of her face, staring out of the net blankly for a moment, still trying to register what had just happened. It was very hard to catch Syrene off-guard, but somehow she'd wound up like this. I guess I didn't notice how much energy hunting drained. A renewed, darkly amused expression crossed her frigid features as her eyes shifted to look at K'sel. "Was this your doing?" If it was, she was actually rather impressed. Stupid, barking Selenite was not so stupid after all.

---

((I'm assuming a couple things about the traps and just hoping it's right so if I'm wrong here please let me know and I'll change it <3333))

[Lotty]

Well laughter was a definite first, and much, much more welcome than the punches and slaps he usually received so he dropped down from his spot on the hanging down vine and let the woman circle him like a feline. He even humored her for a moment and gave her the howl she desired, throwing his head back and baying at the canopy. The brownrider knew something she didn't after all; noting with a peak of his eye a red bandana that hung from a branch that she was about to step into one of his... There was something of a quick snapping sound and in an instant the leaves went astray and his new acquaintance was pulled up and off of the ground in a bundle. Perfect for him to interrogate and tease her a bit first.

It probably wasn't the wisest thing ever to prod and poke at the person who had laughed at him instead of trying to gut him, but he couldn't resist the temptation to take advantage of a unique situation and now he was circling her after picking up a rather switch like branch off of the trail. He wasn't even about to be a big hypocrite and brandish his own knife, but K'sel distinctly felt the need to wield something in his hands. Shards, usually he had something to eat in one of them, but he had finished his last redfruit but ten minutes before. With a quick poke at the woman he answered her first question, "Yes," well he wasn't alone, but he and F'ur had only set so many of them. K'sel got a little trap happy in recent days. He wasn't a sadist though, he made sure to check his devices...

"Now, my turn..." he purred as he closed in closer to the hanging net and examined her black ringed eyes and he was endlessly curious about them. Wearing kohl of course was a trend among women, but usually it was not caked on like a mask, "I know of only one other with eyeliner abuse issues such as yourself..." he was pacing now and thwacking the stick against his leg in contemplation, "Are you in league with the one they call Cr'oph?" He didn't think it needed any explanation, the red haired monster was on the brownrider's list. Firstly because he was a dreaded bronzerider (which meant that he was bound to be his boss someday and the rider had some slight issues with authority) and secondly because the Bendenite was a manwhore who he suspected spiked the punch at the last graduation, gave his sister unbelievable amounts of trouble, and likely would boink Neph if given the chance.

Yeah, clearly despite no actual interaction, K'sel was not a fan.

Not waiting for an answer the man trotted over to the rope he had set with the counter balance and finally relinquished his stick in exchange for finally pulling out his own hunting knife. With one hand firmly taking hold of the rope he cut the tether and used his own weight to give her a much smoother landing than had he just ripped open the net. He was at least being that considerate...but mainly he just didn't want to hear her moan and groan should the fall have caused a broken bone or a really big bruise. With that done he swaggered his way back over to the girl and waited for whatever reaction she had for him. Maybe he was just getting used to and craving abuse.

[Shiny]

A more restrained laugh escaped Syrene at K'sel's howl, amused at just how much effort he was putting into it - baying and all. The howl had been too distracting for her to notice the bandanna hanging just in her path, and she was snatched up unawares by the net.

Her eyebrow quirked as her new acquaintance started to circle below her, weilding a branch of some sort. What, was he going to poke her for his own amusement, now? A hand went to her thigh and she withdrew a thin blade of decent length, considering just cutting through the net to free herself. Poke. Didn't she know he was going to do that? A grin of cold amusement twitched at her lips. For some reason, this wasn't really getting to her. Perhaps because she knew she could cut herself free at any moment, or throw one of her weapons at him. Being up high was actually advantageous. "Congratulations," she replied in her usual deadpan voice, "the amount of work you put into this pointless prank has amazed me." And amazing Syrene was hard to do, even if she had sounded a tad bit sarcastic.

She narrowed her eyes to glare sharply at him. Eyeliner issues? The kid had some nerve. At the name, Syrene scoffed. She'd met Cr'oph just the previous day, and it hadn't exactly been the friendliest of ways to meet someone. He'd stolen her eyeliner, after all, and that did not bode well for him. "No," she replied, sneering. Like K'sel, Syrene was also not exactly a Cr'oph fan. One could say she didn't have much to back that up, but he used her eyeliner without permission. No one got a Syrene fan by doing that. She felt like she had no control when she was around him, and she hated the feeling of vulnerability. "He stole my kohl. Of course I am not in league with him."

She blinked as K'sel cut the tether and used his own weight to lower her gently to the ground. It appeared the man wasn't as big of a douche as he lead on to be. It took a moment, but her feet finally touched flat ground. When K'sel let go of the tether, the walls of the net fell away from her. Crouching in a puddle of net, she slowly stood, eyes trained on K'sel as he approached her. She slid her blade back into its hold on her thigh and readjusted her cloak to fall almost completely around her like a black waterfall.

"You appear to dislike Cr'oph," she stated, smiling deviously at him. "It's a shame you put all of this effort into something he may not even be caught in." Not the fact that there was anything wrong with his traps, but she just knew Cr'oph wouldn't be off-guard enough to be caught. But personally, she was dying to see him get pranked.