Underestimation ? something she used as a weapon. She was merely a girl, right? How much damage could she really do? When she walked out of the tavern, she knew that he wasn't going to pick up her tab, and then like a little [censored], use his little methods of betrayal and have alerted the guards that she had indeed left without paying the two gold that was her measly tab. When she heard the jingling of the Guard's armor around the corner from her, a smile only grew upon her lips. He had played right into her tangled little web. A guard immediately came up to her, and moved her aside, to a dark corner where nobody could 'see' them. "He did exactly as you planned, Bella. The guards have been alerted but I have let them know the situation." Those golden gems of hers began to twinkle.

"Very good." She looked down for a moment. "Now you make sure that your little friends turn a blind eye to me if anything else happens, or I'll have fun snapping that neck of yours, okay?" She leaned in and planted a kiss upon his own, her hand moving to his neck and pushing him away moments after. "Now go." The guard she had known well seemed a little shock, and perhaps even a little lovestruck but he did do what she said. She chuckled softly, and suddenly she was gone in a plume of black smoke.

She waited for the exact time to strike. When Flavius was alone, somewhere a bit remote, is when she would bite. She was the snake in the grass, and somebody had just stepped on her tail; she was pissed off, lethal, and had enchantments guarding her from being detected until the last second. Flavius would suddenly feel the razor clinging to the skin of his neck, pressing into his throat and just begging to cut through the flesh. "Aren't you just glad to see me?!" She said in that psychopathic, peppy tone of hers. "I can't believe you actually fell for it!" Her fist balled, and a punch was delivered to the back of his head, which would cause him to tumble to the ground below him.

"And you call yourself an assassin?you're a pathetic excuse." Leather-clad legs began to move, those heels clicking below her. Her hand outstretched and gripped the front of his cloak, lifting him from the ground he lay upon, and right into the concrete wall. Polished nails would grip the front of his head, and she'd begin to smash the back of his head against the wall and let it bounce off of it like a basketball. The same hand that gripped his cloak would send him flying back onto the ground. Blood was all over the walls and the floor at this point.

She spit on him, right on his eye. "I know your every move, Flavius. What you've done, what you're thinking, what you're going to do. You're beneath me. I'll be sure to let Ocato know what a bad choice it was to hire your diminished abilities?and let me offer you a little advice." She gripped that knife, and walked over to his body again. She stood raised above him. "Next time you think you have the upper hand, think again. I'll be watching you, and next time I'm not going to just give you a warning. I won't spare you. The torture will never stop."

A heel came out and made contact with his rib. "Hmph." She turned on a heel, and then disappeared into the darkness of the alleyway. Her laughs echoed through the alley, but if somebody were to look, she'd be gone already. Her next stop would be at the home of one of her imperial guardsmen lovers. He was sitting down at his desk when Dibella had arrived. "I need you to set up a meeting with Ocato." Her eyes stared directly at his own. "Why? What's going on?" She let out a frustrated sigh, and folded her arms. "Flavius is going to trying to talk him into capturing and torturing me, calling me a traitor, but I'm dealing with him at the moment. Just do what I say. Go." And he complied.

Flavius picked himself up, licking the blood that dripped from a cut in his lip. He smiled a long, sneering smile as he watched her go. He could still feel her heel digging into his chest, and the delicious agony nearly sent his senses reeling. He stayed still, allowing the sensation to pass, and then walked away.

Her maniacal laugh still echoing like sweet music in his ears, Flavius headed toward the palace. She was good, he'd give her that. In a match of strength, well, he wasn't sure how things would play out. He hadn't fought her then, because he hadn't wanted to -- he'd known that his life hadn't been in danger. If it had been...then he wasn't sure what would have happened.

But the incident had confirmed his suspicions: she had connections inside the Guard. There certainly was no way that she could have escaped and tracked him with the alarm now raised unless someone was covering for her. He smiled, reciting an incantation. She -- or anyone else, for that matter -- would not find him again now -- not now that his doubt had been laid to rest.

He walked with a moderately fast pace, covering the distance to the palace relatively quickly. He took little time to enjoy the sights around him, although he did take time to make note of the people he passed. People were his fascination, his hobby, his delight and his loathing. He hated them so much that it seemed sometimes that he actually loved them; after all, without people, his life would be empty and meaningless. There was no fulfillment in tormenting dumb beasts -- although some people were so stupid that they nearly fit the same categorization, in his opinion. What thrill was there in hunting an animal, what glory in besting a beast in a contest of wits? None. No, without humans, his life would be dull indeed.

So he always took care to observe the humans around him. There was the fat miller, and his fat wife, arguing again...and here came that quiet priest from the chapel, who always seemed so deep in thoughts of his own, so lost in meditation. Flavius smiled, and his eyes glowed with malicious delight. If he had time, he might see just what it would take to shake his steadfast faith in goodness. Well, some other time...right now, he had to get to the palace.

At last he had reached the palace, remembering little of the scenery he'd passed, but all of the people and faces clearly. He slipped in quietly through a servant's entrance, and instantly felt his enchantments slipping away. Gods, he thought, that bastard sure is paranoid... The palace was protected by heavy enchantments, all designed to keep the Emperor safe, and they undid most enchantments and spells. Only great skill would be able to evade them, and he had yet to hear of or meet anyone skilled enough.

He touched the dagger at his side, and smiled. It was bound to its sheath, sure enough. Shaking his head with grudging admiration, he traversed the long stone halls quickly, arriving at last at Master Bertrand's quarters. Master Bertrand was one of several coordinators, as they were called, who managed Ocato's spies and agents. Flavius' skills, and the undying passion with which he pursued the hunt, had earned him the Emperor's esteem; but even he had to go through a mediator before gaining admittance to the royal personage.

"Ahh, Flavius!" Bertrand, a short, stocky, one-eyed Redguard greeted.

The Imperial nodded. "Master Bertrand."

Bertrand's face wrinkled into a smile that was more alarming than welcoming. His half full mouth of teeth, his battle scarred skin and shaggy hair cut hardly aided the picture. "Good to see you, my boy!"

Flavius flashed that crooked, devious smile of his own, and it was at least as frightening as his superior's. If there was anyone in this world that Flavius genuinely liked, however, Bertrand was probably that man; and his smile therefore was one of sincere pleasure. "Thank you, sir," he replied. His unaffected tone was thin, clear and inexplicably, but terribly unpleasant.

Bertrand smiled. He knew the Imperial well, and he, too, had a bit of a soft spot for the other man. In their different ways, they were surprisingly similar. "So, judging by your bruised and bloodied face, am I to assume things did not turn out how you expected?"

Flavius shrugged. "She didn't agree to help, but I didn't expect that she would. But I found out that she is working with someone in the Guard."

"Working with?" Bertrand asked, the eyebrow over his good eye raised. "What is their scheme?"

"I don't know about that...yet," he smiled. "I think it might just be someone helping her." His smile grew wider and markedly thinner, and he absently rubbed his chest where her heel had dug in. "Some associate, friend, or lover."

"Ah."

"She's good," he continued. "Very good. Completely merciless...cold as ice...deliciously cruel..."

"And do you think she can be turned?" Bertrand exclaimed.

This drew a smile from the slight Imperial's thin, curved lips. "Of course. Not the way we turn most of them. I saw that today...no, even if she responded to pain, it would be too late for her to be useful by the time that she gave in."

"Then how?" the Redguard asked, frowning.

Flavius' smile grew. "She's good, but she thinks she's better than she is. She thinks she's worth more than she is. She even asked for a meeting with the Emperor."

Bertrand's eyebrows rose, over the good eye and the bad one.

Flavius nodded with his crooked, serpent-like smile. "I think we should arrange one...but not the way she meant." Bertand laughed, a deep, booming laugh.

* * *

Shortly thereafter, a regional alert went out, instructing the immediate capture of one wanted criminal, called Dibella. Meanwhile, while these instructions and a description of the fugitive were circulated, a company of Militia rounded up about two dozen Imperial Guards who had been in the immediate vicinity when Dibella escaped. Flavius watched with a sneering smile as they were hauled into the rooms he'd prepared for them. He wasn't sure who the traitor was, but he was about to find out.

Wile marcus was on his trip to the waterfront he needed some rest but he had the same dream every night he went to bed this night he was sure it would stop but no he was rong it started again the same thing he could here the screams of his famly wile ocato Just laughed as he bucherd them just letting marcus watch as he fell into darkness "NO stop" marcus said as he awoke from his dream he wanted to cry but he dident have eny tears "damn you ocato" you will pay for killing me and my family

Groggy eyes burned in response to the brightness of the afternoon sun wreathing through the cracked curtains of the Altmer's room. There was a white light in her eyelids as she failed to close them. Rolling over, she pulled the covers up over her head, before emerging, many minutes later, enraged, sweat on her brow. This time, she simply left the covers at her neckline, facing away from the sun's incinerating heat. After this plan shortly failed, she threw the covers from her and stood, walking towards the mirror in the corner. She lightly brushed out the knots in her hair, wincing as knots ripped and came free. She didn't much mind how she looked, nor the fact that she stunk of alcohol so thickly that the summer mosquitos completely ignored her or died in failure. She pulled on her undergarments and dressed quickly. A loose shirt beneath a veil of chain, rusted and tarnished into a mottling of red, brown, and dark, dark gray, a pair of chain leggins equally oxidized, and her usual boots. Her scarf was still present, hiding her neck beneath the black fabric. She had, however, stripped the fur from her chain, making it much more accomidating to the warm temperatures of middle Tamriel. She loved her job though, not the killing part of it, but the fact that she could abuse a name to get all the free drinks in the world. This morning, however, she was paying for it, as her skull felt much the same as a drunkard's face in a bar fight. She quickly found the door to her apartment, kicked it open, and departed into the busy streets, keeping her hands above her eyes.

She quickly found her way to the palace, trusting the guard with enough of her knives to keep out of a body search, and walked briskly up the corridor until she entered the antechamber for the Emperor's Throne Room. The attendant looked at her, baffled at how such a character had the gall to even guess Ocato would like to meet with them. "Can I help you? Emperor Ocato only meets to those that have an appointment."

"I have one. He's expecting me," she said, calmly standing at the man's desk as he entered the chamber.

OOC: Sorry about the long hiatus. I'm back.

J'Dato Lay in his imperial prison cell he fumbled with a pick lock for a bit waiting for his pal to bust him out. He heard foot steps then he saw the prison guards body fly past the cell. Then a cloaked figure walked up to the cell and opened it with a touch of his finger. 'Thanks pal another successful robbery 10000 GOLD!' The Cloaked figure took of his hood to reveal a Breton with blood red eyes and no hair but scars all over his face. 'Where is it?' Asked the Breton.

[reply soon, Rachel message me when you see this.]

Marcus got up from the ground to continue his trave to the waterfront. One hour later he could see it it was just over the hill but he see someting on the corner of his eye a mugging, he went to get a better look there were 2 men a breton and a nord beting a helpless women so he went over to stop the madnesss. "Just give us the gold and well stop" "allrite I will do it" the stopped beatning the women to let he get up then Marcus was behind them " let the girl go" the muggers turned around to respawn to what they say "well look what we got here a hero trying to save the lady well you know what we do to heros" "What" 'we steal there gold also GET HIM" the mugges lunged at Marcus he grabed the first one wile he was swinging his fist and snaped his arm the other one grabed his hood down then he could se his face "What... Whats with your eyes" he then lunged on the other thief and repededley smashed his fists in his face knoking him out "GET OFF OF HIM" all marcus did was tun his head and grin a the theif to make him run in out of sight. when macus was done he went to talk with the women "are ou alrite" " what Happened to you" all macus did was smile and told the women to get out of here then he continued his path tp the waterfront.