Seeking Solace

[Aria]

Aria tried not to shiver as she realized he still held on to the power of the gods. There was nothing she could do if he decided to turn the power on her. She could only pray he would not.

His off the wall comment about not being welcome among the dead made Aria smile. It was't the dead that didn't want them to exist, or rather him, but monsters. But it wasn't malicious as he made it sound. They were hungry and hunger breeds aggression in animals, it's instinct. It could not help itself no more than a lion could help itself. But she didn't voice her opinion, really what was the point.

That was the one question Aria feared most. What do you tell someone who's just been attacked by a monster. Yeah, you were attacked by a Ijiraq. The next questions would lead to how do you know and what the hell are you. It was bad enough that he already claimed her sword was ridiculous. Her ridiculous sword just saved his ass.

Aria wanted to stew in the less than satisfying emotions, but in the company of a civilian it was probably best not to. But what was she to say to answer that question.

With a deep breathe Aria decided to speak in semi-truths. "It was a monster of course."
Well not semi-truths, it was the truth and rather obvious... paybacks a bitch.

Aria couldn't help but smile. "I suspect it was an Ijirah of myth and legend."
Aria knew what was next. "Though I didn't think they were real."
Aria lied. She looked around anxiously. It couldn't have gotten far. But where would it go? She wasn't afraid it would return, but faking the emotion was relatively easy. She didn't want to let him know that monsters of all sorts actually lived and breathed in today's world.

Aria shivered again from the cold, her jacket flung wide as a gust of wind blew by. She wrapped her self in the warmth of the lining despite the fact that a monster had just been here moments ago. "It was hungry."
She smiled, "You must be on the menu tonight."
But that also made Aria worry and the smiled faded quickly. Why had it attacked him? "I wonder why it attacked."
She didn't expect an answer that meant anything, actually she expected to hear her own statement back, it was hungry. She sighed, "Don't answer that."


"You okay? You never did answer me."
Not that it mattered anyway, he seemed back to his normal self as well as she could tell as he grasped the power. And her thoughts went back full circle.


Edited by Aria, Jan 31 2014, 01:47 PM.

[Dane Gregory]

The way she was looking at him. It made a chill tease the base of his spine. Like the wretch imagined turning that ridiculous weapon on him. Oh please. Please let it be so.

Blood pumping, Dane waited for her to try. He held the girl's seedy little gaze and silently begged her to listen to the instinct that tensed her muscles to attack once more. His retaliation licked the back of his mind even as the imagination before a kill sparked every hair on his body into sweet anticipation. Do it! Please! he urged.

She stayed her hand. The moment diminished. As did Dane's flickering interest in slicing Aria up with her own sword like a piece of rare steak.

Instead, he turned to something more vital: seeking his hat. The bloody thing must have blown away, born on the same gust of wind that ruffled his coat about his legs, billowed Aria's from her tiny skeleton, and rustled the carnations' willowy petals.

Her attempt at the obvious did little to crack against Dane's mood, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. His reply snapped.

"An 'ijirah' of myth and legend. I don't believe in such things."
He said then suddenly stalked across the bed of white flowers. Nestled beneath the stems of a hundred carnations was his hat.

He picked it up and smacked it free of debris. When he looked up from a closer inspection, he let the comet of power streak clean from his grasp altogether, but only to be replaced by another roaring behind freshly glimmering eyes. "Monsters, however. Are everywhere."
He spoke gently, reverently.

Unfortunately, the hat had been snagged on the pilings, likely from streaking across the roughened cement that had also dug sharp in his palms. A waste, he thought, and Dane dropped the thing in the nearest wastebasket and returned to Aria.

He was by no means a large man, but compared to the girl and her steak-knife, he was a giant. So taking her by the hand was easy enough, but only to turn her wrist and study the hilt. "Do I not look 'okay'?"
He asked, but like her, did not seek an answer. There was nothing in him but curiosity.

"What kind of girl speaks of myths and monsters, walks graveyards at night, and duels in cold steel? None that I believe to have encountered before,"
he said, grip tightening.

[Aria]

Dane spoke with disbelief and conviction about monsters as if he knew something she did not. Aria did not like the way it had come out. The power of gods was addicting, was this man a monster that she was taught his kind could be? Aria pulled her bubble of tightly around her. She did not want to have to feel more from him than she had to. He was starting to scare her and the fear slide along the bubble threatening to break in. But she was taught to control her fear. It was a tool to be used just like the sword she held in her hand. Just a tool, no matter how much this man was starting to frighten her.

When he finally released the power Aria was thankful for the calmness he projected, he was curious but nothing threatening. Fears slide away for the most part but they sat at the edge waiting for just one more thing to burst through her little bubble.

He grabbed her hand. Aria swayed in the breeze. It wasn't more than a moment, but there was nothing but Dane in her head. The grip on her arm was all that she noticed. If the monster returned they would both likely perish before Aria could react. Even though his glove padded the connection she could feel his budding curiosity.

Aria barely heard the question he had asked.

"What kind of girl speaks of myths and monsters, walks graveyards at night, and duels in cold steel? None that I believe to have encountered before."


She looked up into and stared into his eyes. She smiled as he tightened his grip. Aria pulled her hand towards her, not trying to break his grip but unbalance him, unnerve him, something other than the curiosity that flowed though her body. "Wouldn't you like to know?"


This was the closest she'd been to anyone in a very long time. The fact that she let him keep his grip on her stirred emotions Aria had been trying to forget. Things that had long since passed. Aria reached up with her left hand, and touched the his check cautiously. In that one touch, she feared nothing, but the longing to touch another seeped through her down her arm and out her fingers. It was like nothing Aria had ever felt, she pulled her hand back from his face and put it on his chest and pushed softly but not very forceful. "I... don't... I should go."
But Aria didn't move, couldn't move, she was transfixed with the mixture of his and her emotions.


Edited by Aria, Feb 3 2014, 12:35 PM.

[Dane Gregory]

Aria drew him in, closer and closer until his face was nearly pressed upon hers. Although he held himself back, he suddenly felt drunk on the green of her eyes, and wanted to sway along with her. Like two people standing on the bow of a ship at sea, as they were locked upon one another, neither truly noticed the rise and fall of their horizons.

Her question tugged at the deepest, darkest bowels of his soul. There was a fire there, always churning, always trying to break free, that with one simple question, Aria rattled its cage. She was raw meat traipsed before the lion's jaws, and Dane's mouth practically salivated to rip the prize from her grasp.

"You have no idea how much I want to know."
His words were panes of broken glass in the winter sun, sharp and deadly. The monster paced back and forth in his head, tempted by hot scents fillings its nostrils. The lamb was laid before him, inviting him in, begging to be touched, caressed.

She touched his face, and his cheek blossomed with nurturing warmth. This was the sole moment of his life when the mind of another was so clear to him. So obvious. Aria whimpered for his embrace. She wanted to be discovered, inch by inch. He imagined drawing on her new tattooes, red and careful with the tip of a knife. He could picture the sword biting at the edge of her throat. Tied to a wall so she wouldn't run away, he would hold her hand forever. This moment could last until the gravestones had crumbled to dust.

But she pushed him away, and rejection stung. The connection broke with the release of their hands, but the press of her palm was imprinted forever on his chest. He nodded, though he did not understand. He was going to let her go, but that did not mean she would escape.

"If I want to see you again, where can I find you?"
His question straddled both the romantic and obsessive. Whether she told him or not, he would see her again, but if she offered willingly, it would make his life much easier.

Edited by Dane Gregory, Feb 4 2014, 07:24 AM.

[Aria]

Aria had never felt anything like Dane before. She wanted to stay, wanted to be here with him but she knew better. His words still rang through her like a sharp piercing blow. She wanted him to know. She turned away, she couldn't look at him. Aria took a deep breath and turned back to stare up at him.

She wanted to tell him. But logic and sanity said not to. He was a stranger. But it was as if he called to her. Even when she had connected before with the boy of her youth, it had not been like this. She remembered feeling his passion but that was the end of it, he had overwhelmed her to the point of collapsing. Dane had not, he was calm with other emotions snaking to the surface on occasion. He was a curiosity.

Against her better judgment Aria smiled. "I could tell you."
She took a shallow breath to calm her voice but it didn't help as she spoke. "And I want to tell you. But .."


She couldn't tell him that the men and women under the Baccarrat Mansion could and would try to kill him. Aria didn't want to let him know that she knew what he was. Aria wasn't sure if she should be afraid of him, or if she was more afraid of herself. She wanted to touch him again but the moment had passed.

"I've an apartment above a shop called the Delicate Scroll on Nikolskaya Street near the Baccarrat Mansion."


The thought of headquarters and her knowledge that two men exist who can channel the power of the gods are alive because she did not kill them would surely land her in to trouble. She sighed, "But you shouldn't come there. It's not safe for either of us."


Aria rustled in her pockets and and found her a piece of paper. While out-dated it came in handy. She jotted down in practiced chicken scratch, that was what Father Dimitri called it, the number of her wallet. If you want to meet, I can come to you."
Aria held out the piece of paper to Dane. Whether he took it or not didn't matter, though she did hope he would.

[Dane Gregory]

Reaniimation followed rejection. Dane felt like Frankenstein's monster while the townspeople were both abhorred and fascinated with him. As well Aria should be: Dane was bloody fascinating. If she weren't clinging to his ankles, then there was something utterly wrong with her head.

She toyed with the idea of answering his question. Perhaps she listened to the sound of a loving parent's advice playing in her memory: mothers told their daughters not to trust strangers. She was right, if so. Aria should not trust him. He was utterly and completely insane, after all.

Dane's patience was infinite. He was tuned to every flicker of her eyes and every curl of her fingers. She was conflicted, but more importantly, she was frustrated with that conflict.

When she finally revealed the place of her residence, a sweet smile stretched slowly across Dane's face, ear to ear. The image of her climbing old steps; Aria fiddling with the lock of an ill-fitting door; the scent of dusty books seeping like smog through the floorboards; a mildewed bathroom and stained mirror; the place she thought herself safe enough to strip naked to bathe. Did she surround some clawfoot tub with candles? Did she smear liquid or bar soap across her body? Did she sink beneath the still surface of a filled tub and wonder when would be the night she finally drown in it?

Dane could help her - he was a gentleman after all, and Aria a delicate fruit. Should a leaf fall from the trees overhead and land on her skin, it was likely to leave a bruise. Dane would gladly serve her on such an occassion. He'd run the water. Gather the candles. He would be her King Arthur and she would be his very own Lady of the Lake. A mystic corpse whose pale skin was wrinkled with the long soak; Aria floating just under the surface until the bubbles ceased erupting.

He was a flat river of imagination. His emotions, the surface a dull mirror, but deep beneath, an eager, willing companion. When he accepted the slip of paper, their fingers briefly touched, and a flash of Aria's hesitation filled his mind. Brief though the clarity was, he knew it was not the last of their bond. He guarded the treasured gift in a pocket and nodded in agreement. "You are right, my dear. It is not safe."
How right she was.

The spirits of the watching dead seemed to agree. The wind suddenly howled like they were sending her warnings. It whipped his coat against his legs, and rustled the locks of lordly hair around his eyes. On that cue, Dane turned on his expensive heel and strolled away, and left Aria to lonelier company.

For now.

[Aria]

As quick as their meeting had started it was over. Aria could feel Dane walking away. Aria questioned giving him her location and her number. His last comment had made her worries come full circle again. He was an odd man, he didn't react like most would. He didn't care why it wasn't safe, only agreed that it wasn't. What could he possibly mean?

Another gust of wind blew threw the cemetery reminding Aria that it was cold and she shouldn't dally. While she wouldn't report the sighting on an Irijaq she wasn't about to let it hunt on others who were innocent. She sighed at her self, it was no real difference than telling the Atharim she knew, rather had met two power wielding men in her short time in Moscow. Aria had a problem hunting things that were mostly human. They were after all closer to her than she was to a human. Even though Furia are accepted among them, they are by far from equal parties.

Aria turned towards the woods in which the hunger feeling had first appeared. The Ijiraq could be close by, or not. But she would hunt until she found it or until the weariness of the day overwhelmed her. Aria regretted parting ways with Dane on such an intense note, but it was for the better. Or so she kept telling herself. It was all she could do, there were monsters to hunt!