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The Voodoo Queen of Greater Moscow
#21
After a while her fist leaned to prop against her chin. The heat swirling the surface of her coffee began to dim as the beverage slowly cooled. She hadn't sipped it at all these last few moments, mostly because she couldn't afford to replace it when it ran out, and as the minutes began to drift she silently hoped she would not be kept waiting too long.

Asha judiciously ignored the burn of eyes for a while before it began to bother her. Curiosity radiated from him; she could feel that without looking, but couldn't fathom why it was centred on her. It blazed embarrassment on her cheeks, almost enough that she wanted to scoot from her chair and escape to the restroom. But she didn't want the waitress to think she was done with her drink.

Eventually her gaze bounced to him, affected enough by his emotions that it eroded the discomfort of her own. Inky black hair tousled about his face, and eyeliner smudged his eyes like Elias. He was staring over the rim of his cup. She offered a shy smile, clearly perturbed by the attention. And maybe not quite sure what to do with it. "Hangover food?" Then wondered immediately why she'd said it, like he might take offence. "Oh, I mean. Not that you look, you know. I just meant, ah... I just meant. Sorry."
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#22
Xander put his coffee cup down and gave the girl a charming smile. Even Tobias was charming - Xander didn't know how to be anything else. Sure there were dicks he could play but why be a dick when he could be pleasant, so much more rewarding.

She stammered out an apology like she was the one staring at him. But this was the first time she'd actually glanced at him for more than a passing flick of her eyes. He did love the girls who were unconfident in their words, and their actions. So much easier to manipulate. Though this one still, was different.
The words gave him the impression of innocence but he saw darkness in her past. He didn't see images of her in any of it. She was a confusing mess and Xander had no idea why. "Something like that." Tobias answered cleanly with a smile. "I'm sorry for staring, but it's not so often I find a beauty like you sitting alone. There's something about you, I just can't figure out." Xander hadn't meant to say the last part outloud, but it had come as easily as the lie. Though it wasn't really a lie. Flirting and charm were natural, and she was a beautiful little thing, and the innocence was always a draw. But he was here for profit, not pleasure. And Xander rarely mixed the two together.
"The greatest friend to a con artist is lack of knowledge." ~ Jane King


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#23
He didn't take offence, which made her feel somewhat better, until he actually spoke, and then she felt worse. He reminded her of Damien, with that glib tongue and easy smile, though Damien's attentions held an intensity this man's lacked. Thankfully. "Oh." Her gaze broke contact like she considered he might mean someone else. Then she cleared her throat. "Waiting for someone, actually. So the aloneness is temporary."

Aloneness? Her nose crinkled at her own awkwardness, prompting a self-deprecating laugh. She pressed her fingers into her forehead before wrapping them back round her cup, only the tips of her nails visible. "Oh. Ah. Okay. Let's start again. I'm Ashavari. Most people just call me Asha." Her senses swept wide, drawing upon the easy confidence and chatter of others. There was plenty to choose from in a place like this, though she very carefully moved around a few more amorous individuals.
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#24
Xander chuckled at the word. She was adorable, awkward but adorable. Her aura fluctuated and then it became sharp. Xander blinked. She'd introduced herself and he sat staring at her. With much practice, Xander offered a name, "Tobias." Though he sounded miles away as he listened to the change in her voice, and the confidence in her aura the brightness of the blue shone through. What the fuck was she doing? Xander had never seen anything like it. She manipulated her aura...

Xander looked around and saw no one coming immediately and stood up. He moved around his table and sat down across from her. "I'm not making advanced, Asha." He smiled at her even as he reached across the table and ran his fingers through the aura he saw. He knew he looked crazy. He was in a way. A long time ago acquaintance once tried to get him committed. Thankfully Xander was a quick talker and a charmer and talked his way out of it. It was just a game after all. The blues were so vibrant but they weren't her's.

Xander looked around again and saw some of the blues in the room but none match and without thinking much he spoke outloud. "What are you?" Xander snatched his hand back realizing what he'd said. A look of fear flashed over his eyes as he saw monsters in her aura, things of the snakes but she held no death aura. Xander stood up and stepped away from the table. He sat back down in his chair. But he couldn't take his eyes off her. What the hell was she?
"The greatest friend to a con artist is lack of knowledge." ~ Jane King


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#25
He offered his name and joined her at her table, strangely distant. She blinked a few times, uncertain she was comfortable with this development.

And then he tried to reach for her.

She flinched, chair scraping back, though since she was almost flush against the wall already there wasn't much scope for escape. But he didn't touch her, and actually it didn't seem like he intended to. Still, it was just shy of the sort of crazy she definitely didn't want to get too close to. El would be spitting feathers by now, but Asha was less inclined to dark thoughts and quick judgements.

Whatever mesmerised him snapped suddenly. Fear shot through the curiosity, so much so that her own heart started thudding violently in her chest. He snatched himself back like she'd scalded him.

And kept staring. Like she'd sprouted three heads.

The question hurt, though; just spilling out of his mouth like a mistake. It flashed across her expression as he retreated. Her uncle warned her to silence over what she was, over what she could do, and as much as she understood the why, she had never been good at secrets. Elias's acceptance lulled her to false security.

Though it couldn't be what he meant.

"Scary, apparently. Are you okay, Tobias?"
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#26
"Scary, apparently. Are you okay, Tobias?" Her words startled him and he blinked at her several more times before he comprehended their meaning.  A genuine smile spread across his lips and he bowed his head.  "You are anything but scary, Ms. Ashavari."

Xander looked around with some skepticism. "I'll be honest, maybe it's this place. I've never seen anyone like you. Not in my entire life. Never once has someone manipulated their aura so perfectly. Sure I've seen some pretty great liars, " Xander was one of the best. But this wasn't a lie, she had manipulated everything about herself. "Maybe it the whole Voodoo vibe here, I don't know, but you my dear Ms. Ashavari have the strangest aura I've ever seen. It was a mash of everything and then you went so calm and collected, and I couldn't help myself. Then I saw things that scare me. Not you, but things I avoid. You didn't have their aura around you, not even a little, but you've seen these things. "

Xander didn't know why he was telling her this. Next thing he knew he'd be spouting off his real name like she was a key to some unlocked puzzle. He still didn't know what she was. And he'd seen the pain flicker across the beautiful blue. "And I'm sorry my question hurt you. It wasn't my intention. I was stunned that's all." Xander picked up his coffee and water. "I think it's best if I sit some place else, Ms. Ashavari. It was a pleasure meeting you though." Though he never knew what she was, but Xander wasn't exactly sure he wanted to find out either.
"The greatest friend to a con artist is lack of knowledge." ~ Jane King


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#27
He changed. She hadn't noticed it before, that faint layer of falseness, multi-folded like an accordion. Complicated layers like that were always hardest to interpret. Asha couldn't parse lies from truth, but she could tell when someone was being earnest.

She laughed as he assessed their surroundings, and turned to mock whisper behind her hand. "There are more than a few weird people here. You didn't notice?" Honestly, it wouldn't have been her choice of location, but that owed more to its popularity and thus business than anything else. As far as unusual individuals were concerned, little phased her. She was used to being the strange one, at least until she'd arrived in Moscow.

Her eyes drew wide as saucers as he continued though; she leaned in, fascinated at what he described. And by her rapt expression utterly believing every word. Auras? There was nothing about that in Aria's monster manual, though it tended to focus on less human creatures. And ways to kill them that made her squeamish. 

He made to move and she stood abruptly, banging her knee and upsetting her coffee over the lip of the mug. She cursed in Hindi as she tried to manoeuvre out. "Wait! Wait, you can't say that and leave!" They weren't the same, she was fairly sure. Asha didn't see anything when she looked at others, certainly not colours. But he'd read the passing flicker of her emotion. "Please?"
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#28
That was a first. Her knee thudding into the table and her near begging made Xander sit back down. Leaving was usually what people wanted him to do when he went all psychedelically on them. And Tobias looked like the sort of guy who might be on something. It was intentional in this guise, people gave up more information when they underestimated you.

Xander took a deep breath and let it out slowly and let the colors fade. He didn't want to see those things again, not around her. Once the colors were back to what most people would consider normal Xander gave her an award winning smile. "So what can't I say and leave? I gotta say this is a first, most people think I'm on something when I say I see things." He cocked his head playfully and then returned to sipping his own coffee. "And sometimes they are right, but right now just boring ol' Tobias nursing a hangover."

Maybe he'd figure out what she was, or at least what she did to make everything so beautifully - not her. Not that she wasn't beautiful, but her aura was a mess, too many things going on. Xander had never see anything like it.
"The greatest friend to a con artist is lack of knowledge." ~ Jane King


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#29
She took his dumb joke in stride. Cool. The place she led him to was pretty interesting. The neighborhoods he frequented mostly wore that old blocky soviet style from back in the day. He'd seen elegant buildings, of course, in the enlightened district, ritzy neighborhoods and the like in his haunts and missions. This thing seemed to have been lifted from another planet, though, towers and various roofs at different levels, large windows and some sort of porch that seemed to encircle it, plants and rocking chairs and tables. It was wide open, light and loud music made from various horns and drums and pianos and the sounds of laughter spilling from the windows and open doors.

And he loved it. It was like one big party. The smells of the food was pretty good too, stuff he'd definitely never tried before.

And he enjoyed the tickle of her lips against his ear, though he didn't know what she said. She led him through one room after another, though she did stop to talk to an ancient black woman, mouth wide with laughter showing oof her gums. Practitioner is what she called it? He guessed it made sense. Laughed at the woman's comment. "She gonna conjure these pants off? I'd like to see that."

Finally, she stopped at something that looked like half a couch, collapsing on it. Immediately, wine was brought to her and he was asked what he wanted. He was gonna say Vodka- this was Moscow- but then decided to try something new. The server handed him a drink menu and he looked at it. The Hurricane looked good. It was singled out as a specialty. Which PROOOOBABLY meant it was good for getting kicked in the head. He was only a little lit anyway so what the hell. 

He sat close to her, feeling the heat coming off her. The air was warm- humid almost- between the dampness of his shirt- hey all that dancing and writhing and the fire he wove had made him hot, you know?- and all the bodies in the restaurant, despite the open windows and doors.

Mik's hand raked through his damp hair and grinned at her. The power still flowed through him and lazily he wove a bit of air to cool them off. "What do you want to know Doll? Oh. Yeah. What's your name. I guess I should know. Since apparently figured out mine. And yeah, what the hell did you do? You pulled that little rhyme right out of my head! Seriously, you gotta tell me how that works." Man, the possibilities of that were endless. He would own ALL the secrets.
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#30
Rowan laughed demurely into her hand at Mik’s questions. Rough type indeed. What kind of schooling had the man had in life? Not that Rowan judged others based on their intellect. She had had the finest schools money could buy. She was privileged; something she never forgot. Rowan had won the lottery when she entered the world. Not many others could be so lucky. She had seen the poor and impoverished, healed and taught them. She would never judge those that could not control the circumstances that dictated their lives. Still. It would be helpful to know if only so she could figure out which way to steer the conversation with the man. Magic. She knew magic. That would have to do for now.

                Before Rowan could answer Mikhail, something caught her attention in the Séance Room, which was the main room, the one they had entered into the Amber Room from. A tickle nagged at the back of her mind. It was the same tickle that had revealed Mik and that strange Asian man for Channelers. It was different this time, though. Rowan felt an affinity for that strange man sipping his coffee; but not for the woman he was ogling. There was something about her too though; Rowan could not put her finger on it. She hailed one of the servers and he came rushing up to Rowan. The young man bent his ear down to Rowan’s mouth and she whispered, “Keep an eye on those two,” She signaled to the pair in the Séance room, “Give the signal if they say anything… interesting…” The server nodded and rushed off to the main room, busying himself within earshot of the other pair.

                Turning back to Mikhail, Rowan smiled sweetly, “I do apologize, Mon Dieu. Something caught my eye… Where were we? Oh, yes… my name. Rowan Finnegan, daughter of the famed architect Seamus Finnegan, and twin sister to the American superstar, Aiden Finnegan. I won’t bother telling you why I am here because I’ve already done so. My damn brother has sequestered himself out here doing god knows what. It is imperative that I find him. Our very lives may depend on it…”

                Rowan swirled the red in her glass before downing the contents of the cup. A different server rushed up to refill her glass. She leaned back on the chaise, effortlessly, looking every bit the queen in her court. It was all an act. Rowan didn’t normally carry herself so… glamorous. She needed the act. When people came to the Bottom of the Cup Café, they saw the lush surroundings and expected it’s owner to behave a certain way. Imagine if they saw her demure and tending to the roses, which she would much rather be doing right now. That wouldn’t do. Once the sun went down, Rowan put on her diva mask and let people form their own opinions.

                “You mean… Can’t you divine the future? Or information about others? I was taught the arts of Voodoo in New Orleans. That is where I was given my gifts, the ones you saw me use in the ritual. Control over the elements, divining the future, making the dead speak. All of that is a gift of the Loa, the ancestor spirits that answer to the calls of Voodoo priests and priestesses everywhere!” Rowan downed her glass again if only to loosen the lips a little. Another refill and she was talking again, “I’ve heard this Ascendancy guy talking about Channelers and the like. I suppose that is what I am. Although I have never met another… Until you showed up tonight. Do you practice Voodoo? I haven’t heard the Ascendancy talk of Loa, so that must mean there are others out there that came upon their gifts without divine intercession… The things you did… I should have you at every ritual. The crowd really ate it up. I see many faces here tonight that were at that circle. That’s never happened before.”

                Her eyes-and-ears, the server that is, announced in the next room, “Good evening ladies and gentlemen! On behave of the Voodoo Queen of Moscow, I bid you welcome to the Bottom of the Cup Café tonight! As a special thank you for your continued patronage, we will be starting a happy hour right now! All drinks in the house are half-off for the next 60 minutes! Don’t forget to tip your bartender and enjoy your night!” Rowan stopped talking at the announcement and a sly smile curved onto her lips. She turned to Mik and said, “Just a moment, darling.”

                Rowan opened herself to the touch of Papa Legba and pulled a piece of chalk from her sleeve. She drew a symbol on the ground; it appeared to be a stylized crossroad. She tossed two small pieces of paper down on to the symbol and felt that familiar light behind her shoulder. A small thread of fire appeared above the papers and burned a message into them.

                ‘You are cordially invited to a private gathering in the mistress’s quarters upstairs. Food, drink, and weed will be supplied free of charge. Please make your way up the main staircase next to the main entrance. We have much to discuss. – Always and Forever, Rowan’

                With a flick of her wrist, Rowan sent the two pieces of paper spiraling through the air and into the hands of the two other strangers; the female almost knocking over her table. Rowan suppressed a smile and grabbed Mikhail’s hand. She pulled him up and lead him through the Séance Room, past the pair, and up a set of black-varnished stairs. Mounted lanterns lined the wall, providing an eerie flickering light to their ascension.

                Rowan spoke over her shoulder as the made their way up the steps, “That rhyme in your head? I heard it in mine when I looked at you. Remember that Asian gentleman at the ritual? The one that didn’t want to play? Well, I heard something in the back of my head when I looked at him too. The first time that’s happened, but I knew what it meant. Both of you could touch magic and wield it… I hope he calls me. I’d very much like to pick his brain too. Is there a Coven around here? A gathering of Channelers? If there are many of us out there, I do not see why we cannot work in tandem, or at least come together to share our tricks… How did you do that flame aura thing? I’ve tried to make fire bend to my will, but I can’t do much more than candle tricks. Earth and Water are another matter…”

                They came to the top of the steps, a long stretching hallway lay before them. It was white paneled and brightly lit with three candelabras. Three doors were set into the right wall, four to the left, and one large set of double doors at the very end.

                She led him to the doors and stopped before them, turning to face the roughly handsome Mikhail, “Those other two down there… They cannot Channel… I don’t think… But there’s something about them… Something familiar about that man… I’d know what it is, so I have invited them up here to my private rooms for a little… party… You like to party, right, Mik?

                Rowan was all doe eyes and sugary sweetness as she asked the question, batting her eyes and staring deeply into Mik’s own. This man had secrets of his own, and she would know those as well.

"The power Voodoo. Hoodoo? You do! Do what!?"
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