The Hag

Anything he wants....anything he wants...

Loch frowned.

There was nothing he wanted he couldn't get from himself. He drummed his fingers across the table some more, his seductive smile plastered across his face. So she was turning down his advances? That was a first. Loch debated about turning the charm on some more, if anything just to give him something else to focus on besides the pain, but that's when he had an idea.

If you want something you can sink your teeth into, that can be arranged

Something.
To Sink.
His teeth.
Into.

Lochlann's smile widened slowly, his dark eyes meeting hers, and he leaned across the table, patting one of Viazi's hands with his own.

"My dear Viazi,," he said, breathing her voice out like a lover's exhale, "I think there is something you can give me after all. Tell me...what do you eat all the way out here...surely you know how to cook, yeah?"

Loch frowned.

"I take it cooking lessons are out of the question, then?" He sighed. "That's one thing I've wanted to learn since we got here, and every home ec class I've had in the past has been a sorry excuse for play-time."

He watched her for a moment, thinking to himself.

"what if I could get you more guests?" he said, "I'm very persuasive."



(ooc: D= sorry it's short! my brain is fried! Would it be alright if I invited someone to hop in this topic if they're interested?)

Lochlann shook his head. He was sweating considerably, and his eyes were still a little unfocused.

"No, that's too easy," he said, frowning. "It's a long hike out here, I have to convince people to come into the woods--woods that people think are haunted, mind you-- and then hike all the way out here. I could get a book from the library or go on the internet."

He did manage to haul himself to his feet, and now he was pacing, slowly. "No, Viazi, what I would like is for you to teach me. It is far too dangerous for me to be in a normal kitchen where I am hungry. Here, you can have your company, and I can have my lessons. I can bring you visitors, and you shant desire more company."

He stopped pacing suddenly, gripping his chest with a balled up-fist against his damp shirt, and then he collapsed back into his chair. "Infact, I think it would be good for lessons today, No? Does this work for you my dear?"

"I'm.....on a diet," Loch admitted, and here it was clear that there was a reason he decided on these lessons. "Can only eat so many girls before they lock you up or they kill you."

There was a catch in his voice he wasn't expecting. Loch was fairly certain he would die if he didn't make progress here. As it was, he was a detriment to his herd. Feeling like he did now demonstrated it.

"So I don't want to eat now," He said, shaking his head. "But I'm okay with learning something. I think beef is supposed to taste good if cooked correctly, is it not?"

He looked at the orb briefly, though it was his only indication that something was amiss. He didn't bat an eyelash at the book. It Loch's experience, books tended to do that the moment he took them home, so it wasn't anything new to him.

"I can be very persuasive," he said, "so it won't be trouble to bring people back here. "

He licked his lips.

His heart hammered in his chest and he could feel the blood pumping sluggishly through his veins. His mouth was dry and he licked his lips, now for the first time wondering if he should pick up and drink the tea that had been placed before him. At this point, it was lukewarm, but he still couldn't bring himself to do it.

He was thinking about being trapped. Imprisoned. Jailed.

"Have you been in these woods long, Viazi?"

Not hungry?

On the contrary. Loch was starving. He'd lost a lot of weight, but given his already lanky frame it wasn't as noticeable as it might be on someone else. His muscles made up for the rest, though the result was a raw, feral look when he was shirtless. Paired with the bags under his eyes and his jittery behavior, Loch was starting to look like a stereotypical addict.

Loch licked his lips, but it was because he was watching Viazi pace, not from the smells coming from the pot. They were foreign, strangers to his nose, and he had nothing to compare them to. They were making him dizzy, though, almost as dizzy as watching Viazi's robes swish back and forth. Loch slouched forward, propping himself up on the table, and he tried to make it look like it was intentional and not that he was getting worse. He absorbed everything Viazi said with a nod, not needing to take notes.

"I think I would like that," Loch said, 'but I didn't bring any beef. I wasn't planning on a picnic today. I suppose I could go get some if you'd need me to."

He pressed his hands flat against the table and tried to push himself up, but his legs were shaking too much. Viazi didn't need witchcraft to keep him here; Loch was doing fine all on his own.