Comings and Goings [Tytonidae]

[Jesse Fforde]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Every> After dropping her weapons off of her hut, Every walked quietly around the wooden paths in search of Jesse's with a bottle of blood from Ariadne's winery in her hand by the neck. It wasn't much, but after seeing his wounds, the idea of two antiques hadn't exactly sat right with her. "Jesse?" She called out after sometime, giving up about making it a surprise, "I know I could probably just triangulate and such but I'm a little exhausted from a few duels. Where are you?" Every's eyebrows pressed together. She still wore the same sweatpants and tank top, her sweatshirt tied around her hips. The only difference being that she'd smeared the green paint into a streak along her ribcage from where Micah had shot her.


<Jesse Fforde> When in the hut, I make myself at home. It is my home, so why bother acting any other way? And so I walk around in only a pair of tracksuit pants, no shirt. It might be cold, but I'm a corpse anyway, right? The cold is good for me. Though, it's a little warmer in my hut, given that I have so many plants to take care of, to nurture. I've turned the spare rooms into greenhouses, and the humidity seeps out into the main room. I'm sure I've got soil smeared across my brow, dirt stuck under my fingernails. I've been doing some gardening. I'm moving from one room to the other when I hear my name being called. I stride toward the front door and open it, and perk a brow at Every, who has her back to me. I clear my throat.


<Every> At the sound of someone clearing their throat, Every turned on her heels to find herself face to face with the man that she had been searching for. Every hadn't quite ever spoken to Jesse, at least, hold a conversation even from paper to speaking if she remembered correctly. A few texts, but nothing long. She wasn't quite sure why - granted, aside from the fact she didn't really talk to that many people away from Ty meetings or goof off periods. It wasn't that she lacked a friendly nature, but she was uncomfortable on certain occasions. "First off, I've definitely seen less maulings. Secondly, here, as a thank you." She stated, holding out the bottle of Spice.


<Jesse Fforde> The last time I spent any time with Every was during the epic paintball gun battle. At least, the last time we were not apart of a group, and not via text. I glance down at my torso - quite a few fresh gashes, to join the gunshot wounds that are on their way to healing. I'm not a stranger to maulings. I don't take the bottle as she holds it out to me, even though my mouth waters for it. I turn from her, though I leave the door open as an invitation for her to follow me inside, should she wish to. "Thank you for what?" I ask, voice still raw and new-sounding. "I didn't actually achieve anything," I tell her with a frown. I'm not exactly happy about my shortcomings.


<Every> Lifting her eyebrow lightly, Every followed after the man and let the bottle fall against her thigh as she made a mental note to leave it somewhere in his hut. While she hadn't been as shocked as some to hear Jesse speaking during the meeting, the concept of the once-mute male doing so still caught her off guard as she glanced around the decor quietly. "For taking time out of your schedule to at least attempt a ritual you hadn't done before to aid me," She spoke, her hazel eyes lifting to Jesse afterwards, "even after a year and some odd months in Ty, I'm still not quite used to asking for help, people getting mauled to aid." She motioned at his torso. "It's a change I'm still working out."


<Jesse Fforde> I watch Every carefully; I know she can't make much of my hut, far too warm inside, like the humid tropics. The vines creep out of the doors of either spare room, barely contained inside. I feel like they'd curl around me affectionately were I to give them half the chance. I think perhaps I am going a little insane, that I think about the plants as if they are alive. The floor is scattered with weapons and discarded clothing, canvases leaned up against the walls, paper pinned all over the place, fluttering in the light breeze drifting through the door. It takes me a minute or so to respond, still an avid fan of silence. "You're a step ahead of me, in that regard," I say. All help that has been given to me--bar one instance--has been done without my asking for it.


<Every> Despite the way the room it looked, the former California resident didn't seem bothered at all by the way it looked before she chuckled quietly and gave a shake of her head. When he had mentioned before that he grew plants, she hadn't a clue what it would look like and she surely hadn't envisioned it. As Jesse spoke, she set the bottle down on the floor by a discarded shirt clearly showing she wouldn't be taking it with her and straightened up once more, her arms beginning to fold in front of her chest before she thought better of it; she simply tucked her hands into her pockets afterwards. "Mm, it's taken me quite a while and I still don't like doing so. I suppose I just do not like to feel as if I'm imposing on others when asking them for things."


<Jesse Fforde> "Mmm," I hum, thinking, testing the sound of my voice in my throat. Sometimes I'm like a child, not quite certain what sounds I can achieve and which ones I can't. I'm still staring at Every, a habit that I cannot shake, and nor do I wish to. This conversation differs from the one with Ariadne. Or with AJ earlier, for that matter. The focus is not on me, and thus I am more comfortable in it. "Maybe it's not a matter of imposing. Maybe it's a matter of not wanting to appear weak. Or in need of help," I say, afterwards clearing the itch in my throat.


<Every> She was quiet as she considered his words, that was certainly a possibility. When her brother had been alive, she hadn't felt the need to consider feeling weak around him, but even with Lia, who she'd known for years, asking for help had always been difficult. "It makes sense," And when he cleared his throat again, she pinched her eyebrows together softly, "Vocal chords still tight, I'm guessing?" She asked, the question more harmless rather prying. If he wanted to give detail, it would be his choice. "It's different, by the way. Not seeing you all the time with paper in hand." She gave a playful smirk, showing she meant no harm from the comment.


<Jesse Fforde> I smirk. I know she's not prying. She's not asking if I need help. Nor does she think I am in need of psychological help. These are the conversations that I have had, lately. I only nod. It is still a little strange, talking when I could otherwise be writing. "Believe me. I considered keeping the pen and paper, regardless. Thought that might not be such a good idea, in the end," I say. I perk a brow at the bottle of blood she'd left on the ground. I had the chance to taste some of Ariadne's stock, and then the woman rudely took the bottle away, disallowing me any more. I clear my throat again and reach down to collect the bottle. "I'll take it. But only if you share it with me. Might help soothe the vocal chords, yeah?"


<Every> "It's only a bad idea if you consider it to be so," She shrugged her shoulders, removing one hand from her pocket while he smirked. "During hunts? It'll make it easier on all of us with you being vocal... but otherwise I don't see why it's any issue." When he took the bottle, a faint smirk graced her lips until she heard his condition and Every almost rolled her eyes before she decided it was fair enough. "Alright, but you're keeping the remainder of the bottle." She had about three more in her hut, anyway.


<Jesse Fforde> I shrug, in a 'whatever' gesture. "It's an issue if I kept it from people on purpose," I say. I had assumed everyone would assume I'd been lying all along. Wouldn't be good to perpetuate a lie I never told to begin with. I turn around, facing the mess of the room. I give a frown, and a small laugh, as I turn back. "I don't have any glasses," I say. I haven't had any need for them, here. I unscrew the lid of the bottle and take a swing. The blood is only soothing as it sticks to my throat. The satisfaction doesn't last long. I hold the bottle out for Every, perking a brow in invitation.


<Every> Frankly, both from the perspective that she had enough things kept to herself - being Enver Marshall's cousin being one of them - and the fact she wouldn't be bothered either way, she felt it wasn't any of her business if he could speak all the time or not. "If you could, good for you. I'm sure you had a good reason to keep it a secret. If not? It's nice to hear you found your voice. It's none of my business either way." She offered a faint smile before she moved more into the room, nudging clothes aside with her foot. Her own hut was neat and clean, and as she heard his comment, she considered offering to go back there before she lifted her gaze to him when she heard the bottle unscrew. "That works." She stated simply, taking it lightly and taking a drink as well.


<Jesse Fforde> I watch as she nudges clothes aside. I consider apologising for the state of the hut, but decide against it. I am a bachelor in his prime and this is my space. I won't apologise for my own space, when it's one that I'm comfortable in. I give an appreciative not. "Thanks. Wasn't lying, though. Just for the record," I tell her, eyes narrowing if only a little slightly. I don't know why I get so defensive about it. I suppose it's that... not wanting to appear weak, thing. "Don't have cooties, do you?" I ask in mock seriousness wiggling my fingers as I wait for the return of the bottle, far too thirsty for my own good.


<Every> More from habit of not wanting to stand on his clothes, Every stepped into the cleared spot and then she lifted her shoulders faintly, "I wasn't doubting it," She nodded in the direction of his head, "but thank you, for being honest with me." When he mentioned the concept of cooties, she lifted an eyebrow and gave him a slight look of amusement, "Shouldn't I be asking you that, instead?" Every handed the bottle back to him after taking another light drink.


<Jesse Fforde> I eye the bottle deep in thought. I suppose I was only ever vaguely familiar with the concept of cooties. I never did hang around much with the other kids. "What if I told you I did - and that you just caught them?" I ask, distracting her with the question as I lift the bottle to my lips--take several mouthfuls, this time, instead of only the one. I force myself not to drink the whole thing in one go, completely unaware of any remnants that might have slipped out the side of my lips in my haste. I hold the bottle out again to Every, as if it is a devil that she should free me from.


<Every> "Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to teleport you into the nearest lake to get back at you, Mr. Fforde," She smirked softly, not seeming bothered at all as he drank quite a bit from the bottle. She pretended not to noticed, turning her attention to the canvas aroud the room quietly in thought. "And then I would have to hope that they die off without a proper host." Her hazel eyes flashed in amusement while she turned her attention back to him when she noticed the movement. She took the bottle afterwards, swirling the contents as she studied the man's features. Curiosity reflected in her own, but vanished quietly as she took another drink. "You've got a bit," She lifted her hand at her own lips, mocking the trail of blood with an emerald green tipped fingernail, "just there."

[Every]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jesse Fforde> I smirk, though the expression fades as she points to what I suppose is a bit of leaked blood. I quickly lift fingers to wipe the blood away, only to slow my movements. An inner twitch, as I like the drops away, one by one. "Mmm," I consider apologising for that, too. But don't. For a moment I am pure predator, wanting to launch after that bottle of blood like it is my one and only salvation. The epitome of control, however, I hold my ground. Why'd I think this was a good idea, again? I keep the subject light. "Because I am a proper host, you know. Cooties are loving creatures, attracted only to the best kinds of people," I say with a grin.


<Every> She catches his actions and makes a mental note to ask about them at a later date, the last thing that they needed was to get back to square one - silence (although, she knew Jesse being silent had been normal) and slightly narrowed eyes. "Well, then I suppose I should feel that if your cooties have decided to move to me special." She smirked, taking another drink from the bottle and resting it against her thigh leaving the neck bare for him to grasp.


<Jesse Fforde> I try not to look at the bottle. To act as if it isn't there. Wouldn't do to start acting like a savage beast, not when drinking blood in such a civilised way. I give a slight bow. "Indeed. I'd be happy to give my cooties up to you; a worthy host indeed," I give a smirk, and move to retrieve the office chair near the desk. I wheel it over to Every. "Do you want to sit?"


<Every> Her lips twitch in amusement and she set the bottle down off to the side, her dark brown hair falling over her shoulder while she reached up to lightly scratch at her cheek and chuckled. "Thank you," She spoke, moving to sit down in the chair - her motions were cautious from habit, not that she felt threatened near Jesse and once she was settled, she crossed one leg over the other. "So, what have you been up to other than being throttled by a demi-fae and speaking?"


<Jesse Fforde> I give a shrug. I reach up over my head, smiling at the curlicue of vine that has grown awry. The thing seems to twitch and I haven't even touched it. Seems to stretch toward my fingers, growing just that little bit more. Not that it needs to. "Growing things," I say. "Pissing people off," I perk a brow, hesitating--then refrain from saying what I was about to say. Maybe Every's not the type to appreciate seediness. "The usual."


<Every> It was different to see Jesse smile, lightly, the observant vampiress inclined her head slightly as she took note what was going on before her logical side immediately discarded it as a trick of the light. "Simple enough, I take it." She smiled lightly, glancing over his ink afterwards before she lifted her gaze once more to his face. "Nothing wrong with a usual routine."


<Jesse Fforde> I give a shrug. I lean against the tattoo chair, the only other available chair in the place. "No, I suppose not," I say. Normally I don't like routine. I like to do something to shake it up a bit. I could probably do so with Every. But maybe I shouldn't try to lose the respect of everyone around me, even if I don't do so intentionally. I return my stare to Every, wondering slightly at my own inclinations. "And what about you? Still attacking people with paint guns, I see," I say, gesturing to the paint smeared over her attire.


<Every> "Water balloon gun is more my style, can't figure out where the hell I put my wooden sword months back." Actually, she wondered if Nishaa had it stashed away somewhere and made a mental note to ask her childe the next time she kicked her out of bed. "This," She motioned at the paint, "is because my sire found himself to be amusing to shoot me when I was climbing into the cage in The Realm." Granted, she had been taking her time and thinking about things, but either way. Impatient sire. The matches had been fun, mostly unarmed. "I just can't get the paint out of my shirt so it's pretty much a 'what the **** ever' moment."


<Jesse Fforde> I glance down at my own attire - or lack thereof. I gesture to Every's stained shirt. "You could just go shirtless," I say with a grin. That one slipped past - I suppose I truly cannot help myself. Maybe I'll never change. Maybe I never want to. I know that I have a spare wooden sword somewhere. Where'd I put that thing? Maybe I'll surprise Every with it, one of these days. I do bite my tongue about making some nasty quip about wooden swords. That might be taking a bit too far. "Realm, huh? I wasn't invited?" I ask, perking a brow.


<Every> "Hm... and yet, while I have for the most part, I've learned I'm not quite fond of people staring at my ink. Or, well. Questioning the meanings." She didn't particularly go around completely topless as it was and she'd leave it to his imagination with a smirk playing across her lips. She technically walked around in a sports bra and shorts when in her hut, but oh well. "We were doing something with the Andras line," She stated, thinking of her family lightly while she considered the event after the masquerade was over. She definitely knew another fight night for the faction was needed soon.


<Jesse Fforde> I nod, slowly. Not something I'd be invited, too, then. Not that I really thought that I ought to have been. I'm not really bothered by that now, anyway. The mention of ink captures all of my attention. I arch a brow, fingers itching to remove that shirt myself. To slowly run my fingers over her skin, that she has made canvas. To see the ink that has been etched there. I lick my lips, and cant my head to the side. "Woman of mystery then, eh?" voice still a low, near-whispered husk. Although I get her, I'm not aligned with her ways. I like talking about my ink. I'm proud of it. Though I suppose there are some things whose meanings I wouldn't easily share.


<Every> The brunette gave a small lift and fall of her shoulders at his question, considering her words about the tattoo meanings - some, like those on her wrists she didn't particularly mind sharing. "One could call me that, I suppose." She chuckled, and then turned her wrists over to show him the cat design that adorned her left one, 'BJ' and three dots along her right. Often, she considered to have two removed but she never found herself able to do it - granted, Every supposed it didn't quite help that now her blood was inky and black. The words that fell along her ribs made her think of her past, although she knew the tribute itself wasn't dark. Hazel eyes moved back over Jesse's designs and then to his features once more.

[ Cat: Cat : BJ : Dots ]

<Jesse Fforde> I echo the movements. Not that I seek to hide any of my ink ever, but the stuff on my palms is often overlooked. I give another smile as I show off the rabbit as it leaps through the portal, surrounded by little stars. A whim, I suppose, but a recent acquirement suited, I think, to my changed circumstances. After showing the rabbit off, I reach forward, leaning forward ever so slightly so that I can take Every's upturned hand in my own, the callused pad of my thumb brushing over the ink, feeling for the raised skin, admiring the artistry of others on this particular canvas.

Rabbit]

<Every> Her lips twitched into a bit wider of a smile at the design, finding it cute but unwilling to vocalize that thought as she sat very still. After the attack on her in April, it was safe to say that she still wasn't fond of most contact but she somehow managed to keep herself still while he looked at it. "The cat, flowers and skull was my first, granted, each time my arm was removed I had to have it redone." She explained lightly.


<Jesse Fforde> I cant my head to the side, looking up at Every's face, mock disappointment writ all over my features. "And you never came to me? Well. I'm offended," I tell her. I hold the expression for a few lengthy seconds, only after which do I release my hold and sit back again, the teasing grin returning to its usual perch.


<Every> "Well, to be fair I'm relatively quiet period. I'll be sure to come to you next time, because we both know this arm will be cut off again." She chuckled, moving her hand back lightly to rub at the design. "Maybe something different might be in order, instead, too."


<Jesse Fforde> "Maybe," I say, fingers curling into the leather of the chair on either side of me. I revert to my normal silent habits. I'm not one for small talk. Never having to indulge in it before, I don't particularly know how to proceed. I know how it is to be relatively quiet. It's a permanent state of mind. I have noticed this about Every - she keeps to herself a lot. And maybe that's why I'd like to keep some form of her respect. It's not often you find someone willing to keep their business to themselves.


<Every> She was comfortable in silence, at least until she found herself alone with her wraith who chattered all the time or the memory of her brother hitting her too hard. She lightly set her elbow on the arm of the chair, her hazel eyes studying Jesse quietly once more as she mentally went through her thoughts, tossing out wrong perceptions about the man in front of her to make room for new ones. "Hm... I suppose I should probably get out of your hair, it's getting late." She spoke after a little while.


<Jesse Fforde> I perk a brow and glance skyward. I rub my fingers across my scalp. It's all shaved off, always is. "I don't have any hair," I say with a smirk. "And I don't sleep. Entirely up to you," I tell her. My door is never locked. As much as this is my space, and I make it as much my space as I want it to be, it's still open to anyone who might want to wander in. I'm not bothered whether she stays or goes. "I was on my way to feed the babies," I tell her, gesturing to the door to the room behind her, to which I was headed when she called out from beyond the front door. "Nothing urgent."


<Every> "It's a saying, he-who-has-cooties." She felt her own smirk play across her lips lightly before she gave a soft shake of her head while she chuckled, "Well, you might not, but I get cranky if I don't and tonight the initiates have their training." She thought of the rottweiler puppy that had been left on her bed, "I'm down in hut eight if you ever need anything." Every stood up lightly, stretching out her legs idly with a smile playing across her lips.


<Jesse Fforde> I stand, too, not quite understanding the mild disappointment, but I don't push the matter. I remind myself of the vow that I made, and the defenses go right back up again. I give her a grin. "Eight. I'll remember," I tell her. Though I can't see me going to her if I need anything - just like her, I have trouable asking for help. "Sweet dreams. Or whatever," I say, ready to walk her to the door.


<Every> "I can't admit that I keep better company than plants, too," She smiled faintly as she chuckled, "but that's always offered, as well." After a moment of hesitance, Every reached over and gave the man's side a light squeeze of her hand while she moved in the direction of the door. "And I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."


<Jesse Fforde> I glance down at the touch of her hand against my skin; there's no warmth in it. Not literally. The plants are good company, I must admit. I do whisper to them, now and again. Where others keep journals, I whisper to my plants. She takes her leave and I salute my goodbye. As soon as she disappears, I head into the room with the plants, still mindful of the proximity of the sun, as it does stream through this part of the hut.

[Jesse Fforde]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jesse Fforde> The costume from last night is gone. Rather than try to wash the smoke from it, I have discarded it. I don’t think I’ll ever wear it again, anyway. Far too gothic, far too emo for my liking. I’m more relaxed than what I was last night. I have no idea what came over me—but the inferno helped to satisfy. Satisfy what, exactly? I haven’t got a ******* clue. The night is still young. I haven’t slept, of course—I’ve been holed up in the hut just waiting for the sun to rise. Normally I might hang around. I might keep drawing. I might head into the green houses to tend to the plants a little before heading out of doors. I’m not normally in a huge rush to leave.

Tonight, however, I feel the need to get out. To find another abandoned building somewhere—to find something new to burn. I like watching things burn, I’ve suddenly realised. Fire cannot be tamed, not really. Fire is a demon of chaos, just like the demon Loki. I think, perhaps, my favourite mythical figure. Both loved and hated, Loki was. The instigator, always.

I wear a pair of faux leather pants and a plain shirt, that I’ll cover up with a coat. I sit on the chair by the desk and reach for a pair of boots.


<Velveteen> What was meant to be fun had quickly gone bad and she still had no idea as to why. Micah had fallen asleep for now and while she was feeling kinda warn herself sleep was still a long way off. She slipped off the bed quietly and headed out to do a little hacking in the hopes of distracting herself. Her thoughts, when left untended, were taking her to places she really didn’t want to go and anything had to be better than that. Her fingers moved without thought across the keyboard as she navigated the systems in autopilot.

So often had she done this that it was almost too easy and when it wasn’t she would find herself staring at the big red letters informing her that she had been booted and locked out. Not a big deal. She’d just find another and start again. However none of this was really doing as she’d hope. Perhaps a walk, some fresh freezing cold air might help. Her silver orb fell on the coat draped over the chair but she didn’t plan on leaving the Eyrie so left it where it lay and then disappeared into the elevator. She idly wondered if anyone had thought to throw some wood on the fire that she liked to keep burning near the main gates. She decided to go check and kill two birds with one stone.


<Jesse Fforde> I lace the boots, pulling the knot tight. Nothing worse than shoes coming loose when one wants to romp around the city making a nuisance of himself. Once the laces were sufficiently tied, I pull the jacket over my shoulders. From the dresser by the door I grab wallet, phone, and keys - I stash them in numerous pockets. From a hook by the door I retrieve my helmet - the one with the silver skull painted on the back. My own creation. Once out at the elevator, I mash the button for the ground floor. I reach the ground floor and stride toward the exit - only to pause in my tracks as I encounter Velveteen. Velveteen, shadowed by flames.


<Velveteen> Living in a tree in the wilderness, surrounded by trees, meant there was never a shortage of wood and she didn’t have o go far to find extra fuel for the flames that, whilst still burning, had grown rather weak. The large coals burning bright red at the bottom were the only thing that had been keeping it alive. It took barely anytime at all for her to collect what she needed and she was busy making her woody sacrifices when the elevator doors slid open. The dark haired vampire looked up to see a familiar figure silhouetted against the blue glow of the elevator light. She hadn’t really expected to see anyone at all and that surprise was audible in her voice as she spoke. “Jesse? You’re heading out early.”


<Jesse Fforde> I come to a halt. I bite my tongue to keep the retort from slipping out. The one that Velveteen doesn't quite deserve. It's just a friendly question. A meaningless one, to be sure. Something akin to 'isn't the weather lovely tonight?' A question that I'd normally completely ignore because it's almost rhetorical. Almost without need of a reply. I take another couple of steps, gaze drifting to the front door. I am about to leave, but I slow down to stand directly in front of Velveteen. The heat from the fire envelopes us. My tongue runs across my teeth, before I answer. "S'what happens when you don't sleep. You get restless."


<Velveteen> The woman looked at him a little oddly. She was sure he had told her something about that before but the idea of not sleeping at all ever exhausted her and she couldn’t help but wonder how that would affect a person. Forever was a long time, too long to not be broken up with sleep and dreams. Her expression was one of deep thought and she caught herself as her mind began to travel a maze of odd tangents and questions. “Yeah. I imagine it would.” Her gaze narrowed slightly as she as she only noticed the man’s attire. He looked as though he was either about to embark on a mission or meet up with a hot date.

She remembered the way he had left her the other night and his behaviour at the masquerade thinger. He seemed angry and she couldn’t blame him there but there was also something very dark that seemed to be growing within him. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her now empty hands in the back pockets of her faded black jeans. “Where are you of too?” She asked, her voice still casual though her silver gaze pinned his.


<Jesse Fforde> Although Velveteen’s tone of voice was casual, there was something about her demeanour that gave her away. Maybe the way she narrowed her eyes; the way her gaze pins me in place as if she’s looking for more than just a casual answer for where I’m going so early. Most people might take a deep breath to calm an oncoming storm. I don’t, though. I stand still as the dead, except for the way my tongue roves across teeth aching for a feed.

I, too, narrow my eyes. “Out,” I say, simply. This time I don’t bite my tongue to keep the somewhat rude retort at bay. “Are you trying to be my mother, now? Does it matter?”


<Velveteen> A delicately curved brow rose ever so slightly so as to barely be even noticeable. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected but this wasn’t it. She had watched him give others attitude. Some were deserving, others not so much. She considered herself to be in the later. It surprised her to find it stung a little though she kept her poker face on. If hurting her was what he was wanting she wasn’t going to give it to him. “No.” She shrugged. “ I suppose it doesn’t and hardly. From what I have heard your mother wouldn’t have bothered asking.” She looked at him challengingly and her chin tilted upward somewhat defiantly. Being that she had forgone boots or any sort of footwear, she was significantly shorter than usual, the loss of 5 inches to her stature was painfully obvious.


<Jesse Fforde> Of course I could have argued. Sure, yeah, my mother wouldn’t have bothered asking. Maybe that’s why I am the way I am now. I don’t care. I don’t give a ****. I like who I am now, so maybe I should thank my mother for that. I could have told Velveteen that she was trying to be some kind of surrogate, but the argument seems petty. She’d already negated the assumption. Time to move on.

I can’t help but let my gaze wander; to slip to the woman’s attire; there’s something different about her here. I have caught her out in the open. A wild Velveteen. She is a woman I ought to be scared of, and I know she is the last person I should be giving attitude to. But perhaps it’s this newfound thing I have for seeking a thrill. No excuse, really. I should walk away before I do something stupid. “No,” I say. “S’pose not,” I mutter in response. I begin toward the exit, knuckles white as my fingers curl into a tighter fist around the bottom of the helmet.


<Velveteen> She couldn’t explain way but the fact that he was walking away on her again annoyed her . Maybe because it felt so dismissive and beside the fact that she knew she deserved better than that she was not someone who was used to being dismissed so easily. “Why is it you get your voice back and like magic become a bigger dick than you ever were? What? All of a sudden you think the world owes you or somethin’? You’re not the first person it chewed up and spat out and I doubt you will be the last. Feeling sorry for yourself won’t change that.” She bent down to fetch another piece of wood to toss it into the drum where the flames now licked at the air hungrily as if none of it mattered.


<Jesse Fforde> I pause. Her words are a barrage against my back, which is what she can see. I bow my head. I am not accustomed to shouting. I've never reacted to anyone by shouting. It's not the first reaction that comes to mind. I let her words sink in. I let them swirl around. I think about my response, rather than responding hastily. When next I turn to her there's a smirk on my lips and a fire in my eyes. "You just haven't annoyed me before," I tell her, voice nearly a hiss. I don't think it'll ever be robust. "I'm the same as I always was," I tell her. She'll connect the dots. Maybe I don't mean it. But in the end, I just want her to back off. She's seen enough of me at my weakest. I don't want her to see any more. "Why the **** should I think the world owes me anything?"

[Velveteen]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Velveteen> The truth was she had no idea and was merely grasping at straws, trying to make him react perhaps? To coax him into giving her the real reason as to what was going on just to prove her assumptions wrong. She meets his smirks with a crooked one of her own as she brushes her hands across her denim clad thighs, dusting off any dirt that might have been there from the wood. “You shouldn’t. So...why the **** would you act like it does?” Her voice, as always remained calm. The pitch more inclined to grow softer and more deliberate when she was angry. She barely ever raised her voice. Such displays of emotion and lack of control were not her thing. Never were.


<Jesse Fforde> I take a step closer to the woman. I roll my shoulders. That's what's different. She's not wearing heels. She's far shorter than normal. I glare down at her. "I apologise, your majesty. Apparently I'm doing it wrong. The world isn't bowing down at my feet," I say with a smirk. I don't know what she's trying. I don't know what this is. It feels like an interrogation. It feels like she's trying to get a rise out of me. She doesn't know that it's working, because I won't let her know that it's working. ****, I should just walk out. I turn around again, offering her my back, intent on walking out.


<Velveteen> The woman laughed, a mixture of sarcasm and genuine amusement. "If you know you are doing it wrong then why do you persist?" She crossed her bare arms over her chest. Her allmost translucent skin stark against the black form fitting t-shirt. It was freezing out and yet there she was, barefoot and in a t-chirt like it was summer. She still felt the cold, it just didn't worry her like it once did. She didn't miss that. She did miss feeling warm though. She tilted her head to the side and watched his back, letting him take a few more steps. "So who are you so angry at Jesse? And why the need to take it out on everybody who actually gives a ****?"


<Jesse Fforde> "Why don't YOU quit ******* persisting?" I ask, voice still a hiss. This time, however, I have spoken without thinking. I lament. I don't want to turn into the rest of them, using words as flimsy weapons, to fill blissful silences. I don't want to lose the comfort of silence, when so many other comforts feel as if they've been taken away. I don't tell her that I don't believe her. No one gives a **** in the end, not really. I pull myself up. My fists are clenched. My jaw is tight. "Maybe I'm just an asshole. I'm not angry at anyone. Might be, though, if they don't stop asking stupid ******* questions."


<Velveteen> Velveteen snorted and shook her head. Disappointment coloured her features. “Maybe you are and maybe I was wrong about you. Or maybe you just need to tell yourself that to justify being a prick for no good reason....but hey, if it works, then have the **** at it. But, before you walk away you should know that I thought you were worth it. Probably still will tomorrow but if you don’t want it I can’t make you. And I will be sure to stop bothering you with my stupid ******* questions.” A hand came up and her fingers were combed half way through her waist length, raven coloured strands before she shook them loose and shrugged. Her lips parted as if to say more but instead she snapped them shut and just shook her head once more. Maybe her problem was that she cared too much.

She wanted to help but he obviously didn’t want her to. Whatever was going on with him was his secret and his alone.


<Jesse Fforde> Worth what? I want to ask her. Can't make me what? Another step and I am directly in front of her. So close to... oh, I know I want to. Sharp eyes linger just a little too long on those lips of hers. I like the way they look when she swears. But do I, really? Where does the urge come from? Because I want her to shut up and this is the surest way to do it? Because I want to die? Do I...? For the second time in two nights the thought crosses my mind. I violently shake it away, shaking my head at the same time, stepping back as if physically pushed. I glance up and to the side. There are cameras there, blinking. Winking. They know all. "I'm not worth anything, Velveteen. Sorry to disappoint you," I say, almost so silent as to not be heard.


<Velveteen> She held her ground defiantly and her eyes on his wandering what is going through his mind in hose moments of silence. Maybe she had touched a nerve, maybe she had finally found a small crack in the armour he wore beneath the surface. In the quiet she waits for him to say something , to tell her how wrong she is but he doesn’t. Something seems to change as he steps back and she wonders what it was that happened and then when he does finally speak she finds it is her that snaps. His words igniting an anger that she never thought she would direct at him. “Wake the **** up, Jesse.”

She growled moving forward in a sudden blur of motion to drove the heel of her hand towards his chest, knowing full well if it connected it was likely to set him back a few feet, land him on his arse if she was lucky and very possibly piss him off even further but at this point she was beyond caring.


<Jesse Fforde> Maybe I should have kissed her. The result might have been the same. This way, I don’t get any kind of reward, beforehand or after. I don’t see it coming, the thrust to the chest. I almost feel the crack of a bone as the blow lands; as the force of it sends me reeling backwards. This woman could kill me, I know that much. She could squash me like a bug beneath her heel, whether she has shoes on or not. I know I should bow down and give up. But she has hit a nerve, and I can’t help but lash back.

I fail to regain my balance completely and drop to one knee. In one swift movement I swing out one leg in a wide arch, attempting to knock Velveteen’s feet out from underneath her. We do this all the time, right? We spar. We beat the **** out of each other for fun. She is right, of course. I’ve got bucketloads of anger and I’m taking it out on all and sundry. And she happens to be the closest thing—on top of which, she’s pushing my buttons.


<Velveteen> Anger blurred her senses and for whatever reason she truly hadn’t expected him to react which considering that was exactly what she was trying o get him do seemed rather contradictory. She saw his leg a little too late and he managed to catch her ankle before she reacted. Her arms went out in front of her, unable to prevent the fall itself but it was enough to stop her face planting into the ground as she landed on her knees instead. “Asshole!” The word was spat vehemently as she brought a leg around with the sole intent of driving her foot into his face. He was just lucky she didn’t have her gun or he’d be dodging bullets by now.


<Jesse Fforde> A bark of laughter escapes my lips. I can see it coming, this time--can see her foot flying directly for my face. As a hobby when human - and still a hobby now - I liked to practice a little parkour. The skills come in handy now as I thrust my body backwards to avoid the broken nose. I push all my weight onto the palms of my hands (the helmet had been thrown aside the first time she hit me) and in one swift motion I swivel and flip back onto my feet. "Exactly!" I tell her. I am an asshole. I can't hide the regret in my tone. I'm not quite skilled at such things just yet. I don't know where it has come from, or why. This is what I wanted. Right?


<Velveteen> “Yeah...**** you.” She was annoyed as much with herself now as she was with him and her irritation showed. “This is really what you want then?” She didn’t look at him this time as she pulled herself to her feet. “To be a self deprecating **** that no one gives a **** about?” She snorted and shook her head, sarcasm dripping from every single word as she spoke. “Why not right? Not like anyone here cares at all. Didn’t sit by your bed when you decide to take a nose dive out of the tree. Haven’t helped you in any way at all or given you a home and a family. And that’s not even all. Yet this is what you do with it?”

Disgust was the only expression she wore as she turned her gaze on him once more. “It’s all good and well to be angry Jesse, it’s not ******* ok to take it out those around you just because you can.” She hung her head and shook it. There was really no more to say though she looked like she might for a second and then a hand came up to cut through the air dismissively. A sad, disbelieving smile curled her lips at one side and she turned away from him. He knew where to find her when and if he ever chose to.


<Jesse Fforde> Her words cut like a knife, straight to the very core of me. Perhaps they should have acted like a bucket of ice, cooling me and bringing me to my senses. Instead, that knife only succeeds in cracking open the rock, beneath which flows a river of molten lava. The last thing I want to do is lose Tytonidae - lose my home. But so many have given up on me already without a second glance backward. Those who care don't give up on those they care about. And it looks like Velveteen has just done the same. Given up. So ******* be it. I don't tell her that only recently I got myself slashed and beaten bloody by the fae to help Every.

I don't tell her that I'll continue to put myself down to help those in the faction. She'll see that, with her own eyes. I don't need to tell her that. I let her go. I turn around and swipe my helmet from the ground, and I exit the Eyrie, more furious than ever before.

[Jesse Fforde]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Velveteen> She was still angry with him but at the same time she was curious and confused. The Jesse that she had seen lately was not the same guy she had come to know and she knew she wasn’t the only one to think so. She wasn’t sure why she came. Maybe she wanted to see if he had anything to say for himself. Maybe it she wanted to put herself there and let him know he wasn’t getting off the hook that easily or maybe she wanted to let him know that Micah knew what had happened and was likely gonna shoot him when he saw him next. Maybe it was all of the above.

She knocked at his door before pushing it open tentatively fully expecting the male to be somewhere behind and when now sound came from within she pushed it open further and stepped inside. A quick scan of the hut and the silence that met her told her that the place was currently empty and she shrugged as she turned back toward the door, though she stopped mid turn. An open book on the nearby desk caught her eye and while she wasn’t usually one to pry she moved a little closer, certain that it was probably drawings or sketch ideas but instead all she saw was words.

She tilted her head a little catching a few words here and there and it didn’t take long for the woman to realise it was some sort of journal. The very private thoughts or an even more private vampire. She knew she shouldn’t have read it but she did anyway. Maybe she would gain some insight as to why Jesse seemed to have gone off the rails.


<Jesse Fforde> I start by writing a text. Text seems too impersonal, however; and so I switch to a computer, and begin an email. I don’t trust myself, or my actions, if I’m actually going to go and apologise, face to face. As I write, however, I realise that it doesn’t matter. I would be a coward not to see her, face to face. The honourable thing to do is to find her, so that she can see that my apology is not just a bunch of empty words. So that she can see it, in my face and in my demeanour. It would be cowardly of me not to test myself, to force myself to be contrite. I’ve got no hope if I can’t learn to control myself.

I slam the laptop shut and pull a plain singlet over my torso. I’m not in the Eyrie. I’m at Larch court – waiting, hoping for Abigail to come and see me. She hasn’t come. I head, bare-footed, out into the kitchen, where I’ve left my jacket. Inside is the tome that will take me to the Eyrie. I wear a pair of plain grey drawstring slacks.

It’s only when I’m in the elevator that I suffer a moment of indecision. My finger hovers over the buttons; if I go upstairs, Micah might be there. This is not a bad thing, I suppose, but my apology is not to him. It is to Velveteen. I push the button for the ground floor and, as I make my way to the drum where the fire burns bright, I type out a message:

“I want to apologise. Can I meet you downstairs? Where the fire burns.”


<Velveteen> Velveteen frowned a little. It wasn’t so much because of what she read but more because of what she didn’t read. It conformed much of what she thought. She knew Jesse was hurting. She knew he had felt the raw slap of betrayal more than once recently and suspected that he also felt a sense of abandonment and aloneness. His sire, his childer. Those he devoted himself to all but given up on him or just plain disappearing. It made sense that he would push away anyone else out of fear of them doing the same but still, while she could understand it, she didn’t consider it a valid excuse for the way he was treating those around him.

It was a self fulfilling prophecy that he would see to fruition whether he realised it or not. She was lost in her own thoughts as her phone rang in her pocket and she jumped, thinking maybe she had been caught in the act. A heavy sigh of relief passed over her lips and she dug out her phone only to arch a curious brow. She really hadn’t expected to hear from him, not this soon but in a way she was kinda glad she had. He wanted to apologise which told her that not all hope was lost and somewhere beneath all the douchebaggery, Jesse still did give a ****. She didn’t bother answering. It wouldn’t hurt him to be left hanging for a little while as she made her way downstairs.


<Jesse Fforde> I linger by the fire. I don’t pace. I don’t kick at the dirt—whatever dirt there may be. I don’t scratch stray, non-existent itches. Instead, I stand with my hands shoved into my pockets. My toes are curled, dug into the ground as if they want to root me in place. I stare into the flames as they flicker and dance. They aren’t flames that I have created. They aren’t my own. To the side of me, nearby the drum, there’s a spare branch—fuel, I suppose, that someone’s left behind. I reach down to pick up the branch. I hold it out over the flames.

That’s how I’ll appear, to anyone approaching—I’ve got one hand in my pocket curled around me phone, waiting for a response from Velveteen. The other holds onto that branch, out over the fire. The leaves crackle and crisp; they turn to ash at the fire’s mercy. My brow furrows into a frown as I watch, utterly transfixed.


<Velveteen> He doesn’t seem to notice her as she approaches and for the longest moment she she just stands quietly and waits. Whether he is lost in his own thoughts or it is the flames themselves that he watches so intently she can’t be sure but she doesn’t necessarily want to be the first to speak either, being uncertain as to what to expect from him. Besides, she was still angry despite the most relevant revelations. The woman moved a little closer to make her presence known even if silently and dug her hands into her pockets. She was patient and could wait for however long it took.


<Jesse Fforde> I don't know how long I stand there before I get that feeling. Hairs stand up on the back of my neck, and I know I'm being watched. I know who it is. I invited her down here, didn't I? I suppose it could be anyone. This is a main thoroughfare. I drop the branch into the fire and allow the flames to swallow it entirely. Only then do I turn, slowly, to make sure - it is Velveteen. I bow my head as I clear my throat. I stare at her feet. "I haven't got any excuses. I don't know what's wrong with me. You didn't deserve to be treated like that," I tell her, only then raising my gaze to look her in the eye.


<Velveteen> The dark haired woman considers him for a moment and her expression gives little away. Her silver orbs are tinged with the soft amber emitted by the nearby flames and she keeps them pinned on him, meeting his directly when it finally does look up and not at her feet. She purses her lips a little and chews thoughtfully at the inside of her lower lip. It’s quite obvious that there are a thousand and one thoughts running through her mind, though for now, she voices only one. “You do know Micah kinda wants your head on a pike right now, don’t you?”


<Jesse Fforde> I give a smile that might be half smirk, half cringe. There's that death wish again. "Figured, given the way he was sneering at me last night," I say. I still stand motionless, hands in my pockets. "He can do what he wants," I tell her. And I'm being completely, genuinely honest. If it's punishment he wants to give me, then so be it. I think I'd prefer whatever pain Micah might dole out, to having to open up and share and all that fluffy pink ********. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, biting to keep from joking - from trying to make light of the situation and inadvertanly make it worse. He'd want more than my head on a spike if I'd actually kissed you. I don't say it, though. Oh, no. Let's not let that cat out of the bag.


<Velveteen> The woman simply nodded, letting the quiet settle around them once more, the crackling of the fire becoming amplified in the silence. Her hand moved in her pocket , digging for something and she withdrew one of the coffee flavoured cigars she had taken to smoking. The flavour a rather poor substitute for the real thing but being as it had been several years since her last coffee, it was easy enough to convince herself that it was close. The thing, brown cylinder was pinched between her teeth and she made a ceremony of lighting it, taking her time before responding. She regarded him once more through the thin plume of aromatic smoke that was expelled and soon dissipated in the frigid air.

“I don’t know how to help you if you won’t let me. And no, I’m not trying to be some sort of surrogate mother. I just want to be your friend.” Her shoulders rose in a rather non-committal shrug. “I care, Jesse, but lately you are making it hard.”


<Jesse Fforde> I am a fan of silence. If she's trying to use it to make me uncomfortable or anxious, it's not working. I'm not going to fall to my knees and beg black and blue for forgiveness that I don't deserve. I've grown accustomed to not breathing, but I make an exception; as the cigar smoke fills the air, I take a deep breath, revelling in the scent. I can't my head to the side as she speaks. I give a slow, languid shrug and shake my head. "You shouldn't--" I start, I stop myself. I hold my breath for three beats. "If you know what's wrong with me, then please enlighten me," I tell her, smooth and genuinely inquisitive.

[Velveteen]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Velveteen> The slightest of grins possesses her lips and she shakes her head a little. She isn’t about to let him know that she read something that was never intended to be read even if she did suspect much of i already. And considering that he as much wrote it down she finds it a little hard to fathom that still he doesn’t know what’s going on within him. “You mean you genuinely don’t know?” She looked at him a little sceptically as she took another long draw from the thin cigar. Her eyes strayed to watch the smoke waft and fade before returning to meet his icy blue stare. “I am not a full on telepath and I can only really guess at what the truth is Jesse is. But it seems to me to be pretty damned obvious. What do you think is wrong with you?”


<Jesse Fforde> I heave a sigh. I look away from Velveteen. This is about the time I want to walk away. This is about the time where I might lose control again - where I might let attitude get in the way of honesty. I take a step backward. I pace one, and then twice, near the fire. I watch the flames, as if they can offer me a way out. I think about the things I had written down. My hands curl into fists in my pockets. I still pace, even as I answer her. "Of course I have ideas," my voice is low. It's obvious that I'm forcing the words. They don't want to come out. "Nothing that can be fixed, though," I tell her, jaw tight.


<Velveteen> “That’s ********, Jesse. The only thing that needs fixing is you and I don’t believe that can’t be done for a second. You have to want it though.” Velveteen knew all too well about abandonment and loss and hopelessness. The need to connect and not feel completely alone. It’s how and why Tytonidae was born. “You were dealt a pretty **** hand in life and in some ways you are still being dealt one, but that is not how it has to stay, Jesse.” She didn’t want to say too much or he would know but it was difficult just tripping around the edges as well. “You know I haven’t seen or heard from the one who turned me in **** knows how long. At least a year, maybe two even. I’ve turned quite a few myself but only actually see maybe two....rather occasionally at that.”

It was something that did get to her, especially when she let it. The Andras gathering usually, because it was even more obvious when none of her own were ever there. She drew another steady stream of flavoursome smoke and held it for a moment before releasing it lazily. “It sucks when it’s the ones that you think should care the most actually give the least amount of fucks.”


<Jesse Fforde> I don't like being told that my problems are ********. I know that's not what she means, but I've reason and unreason coiling around in my soul like twin snakes, spitting venom and hissing as they battle to the death. I hold my hand out over the flames. I lower my skin to the heat. There's something there, something in her words that strike a cord. That gaping, yawning hole screams at me. The skin of my palm sizzles against the heat. I pull it away to examine the blister. The pain anchors me. "You make it all sound so easy," I say. "I don't know what I want. So how can that guide me? No--. I'd love for those I've turned to come back. I'd love for Phoenix and Axel to--" I bite my tongue, shake my head. "How I am supposed to get what I want? How do I make that happen?"


<Velveteen> She watched him curiously, waiting for him to respond, hoping he was thinking about what she had said. And when he did speak she couldn't help but laugh, it was a short yet genuine sound, not meant to be derisive in way. "It's not that easy. Trust me. But as they say, those things worth having are worth fighting for." One more drag and she had had enough, tossing the remaining cigar into the fire to be consumed by the ever hungry flames. She wanted to ask about Phoenix and Axel but she was pretty sure she probably already knew he ending...or the gist of at the very least. "You are not going to get what you want with the way you have been going about it. In fact that will get you the exact opposite."


<Jesse Fforde> A short grunt sounds in my throat. Involuntary, really, but an immediate reaction that I had no control over. "That's the thing," I say. I turn to face Velveteen now, shoving my burnt hand back into my pocket. My fingernails dig into the blister, bursting it, keeping the wound open. "Maybe that's what I really want. To ... have faith in someone is to be vulnerable. They've got a weapon to use against you. If I refuse to have that faith, I can be more efficient in my job. I won't have a weakness. Get it?" I give another sigh, and I shake my head. "You... and Micah, you are the exceptions. You've given me so much. I can't not have faith. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here apologising."

"I'll help Tytonidae. I'll give, when asked. I'll give when not asked, if it's helping out another member. But I can't stop being an asshole," I tell her, jaw set, shoulders straight.


<Velveteen> her head canted to the side and she was sure she wore a rather amused grin though it was likely barely visible. She couldn't but wonder if he actually heard himself. If he sounded as contradictory to himself as he did to her. Though she only had one question, she wondered if he'd even have an answer or stop to think of one. "Why not?"


<Jesse Fforde> I narrow my eyes, silent for only a second. I try to think about what I've just said. I don't understand the question. "Why not what?" I ask. Is that permission? Why not continue being an asshole? Hasn't she just told me my behaviour ought to stop, or change, that I'm going about things the wrong way? "I mean tell me, honestly. I apologised to Ariadne, though I don't reckon I acted too badly. Who else have I offended? And seriously? If they can't handle it, then that's on them. Not on me," I say.


<Velveteen> She shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know who else you have offended. I only know people have noticed. And that is all good and well, Jesse, to be an asshole. I'm hardly Miss Popularity in this ******* hellhole but I am ok with that. I have those that matter to me close and that is all that really matters. But ya know what? It's always a gamble. There are no guarantees or promises. Turning others is a lucky dip. And getting close to anybody is a risk. Sometimes it goes it **** but sometimes....you find that diamond amid the **** that makes it all worth it. You just have to be open to that and right now, no matter how much you want it, you just aren’t open to it. You have been hurt several times over and don't want to keep putting yourself through it, I get it. I do."


<Jesse Fforde> "Okay, good," I tell her. This is starting to feel far too much like those shrink sessions I used to loathe. One that I don't need right now. "You get it, then. So leave it," I tell her, harshly. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I feel like there's a fist around my heart and it just keep squeezing tighter and tighter. Others don't need to see that, though. It's what I'm struggling to do, isn't it? Make sure no one can see any of my weaknesses? I don't want Velveteen to see them because I'm ashamed of them. I'm ashamed of the way my throat aches, and not because of the thirst. I'm ashamed of the way my head feels heavy, as if I could just fall to my knees, then and there, and scream until I have nothing left in me.

I don't know what's wrong with me. It's got to be something more. Something... "I have to go. I wanted to say sorry. I'm sorry. Tell Micah to kill me if he wants," I say, only realising after I'd said it that I said 'kill' instead of 'shoot'. I turn toward the exit. I need to go back to Larch, in case Abigail shows up.


<Velveteen> She narrowed her gaze and said nothing as he turned away. Had he forgotten that he asked her to enlighten him. She can only share what she thinks and knows. She is no a ******* magician or some ***** with a magic wand that she can wave and heal all even if she wished she did. She stands still, unflinching except for the muscles that tense around her jaw as she watches he flames. She recalls something he wrote about the fire, about it being his creation. It is symbolic and it seems significant but for now the actual connection eludes her. She shakes her head and sighs, letting it go for now. "I'm here if you need me." She states, knowing she doesn't really need to, he should already know that but reiteration never hurts.


<Jesse Fforde> I'm not wearing any shoes and it's cold out. I don't have my bike. I haven't really thought this through, but I don't care. I feel a walk. A walk might clear my head a little bit. She tells me she's there if I need her, and I try not to be grateful. I don't want to have to rely on anyone but myself. I am grateful. Maybe, one day, I'll take her up on the offer. For now, however, I just give a wave over my shoulder, before pushing my hands deep into my pockets and exiting into the city, allowing the cold, crisp air to attempt to cool the flames within.

[Jesse Fforde]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

* Jesse Fforde feels the world spin. He hadn't actually fallen asleep yet. In the ensuing silence he'd focused on the pain - both the physical pain, and the emotional. He'd put himself through the ringer in both respects that night. In his distraction, he'd forgotten about the promise to summon. It came as a surprise. He swore as he landed, body crumpling beneath him.


‹Every› She had returned to her hut shortly after summoning spirits, changing into a pair of simple black yoga pants and a black teeshirt before she went to the couch. Her lips pursed together lightly when she saw the man land. Oops. "Maybe next time you'll learn not to get the **** knocked out of you to the point you're exhausted." She shook her head softly, sitting down by his feet as she looked at him.


* Jesse Fforde stretches out. The couch is definitely far more comfortable than the chair and table were. The softness seems to envelope him in his current broken state. For all his teasing, he's really not in the state - physically or mentally - to try seduce Every. One night, maybe. Not now. "Noted," he mumbles.


* Every stood up to collect an extra pillow and blanket from underneath the television set, her dark hair falling down her back with her movements. "You didn't answer me earlier, when I asked if your bones were set. It's going to be a ***** if they aren't." Every glanced over her shoulder at him, frowning. She didn't really know what to think about the teasing all night, or any of it, really. "You landed on my owl." She took note of the green stuffed animal under his back and gave a small chuckle.


* Jesse Fforde arches a brow at Every before shifting, wondering if he'd inadvertently killed a live animal. He hisses as he twists his back the wrong way. He shakes his head. No bones have been set in the course of the evening. Just broken, several times.


* Every moved back to him, setting a knitted blanket on the back of the couch before she set the pillow on his stomach. "Stop moving before you make it worse," Every sat down on the ground beside him, not pleased at his words. She sighed, moving to collect the toy by pushing the couch cushion down and easing it out from underneath him. "Do you want them set, or are you going to be an ***?"


* Jesse Fforde slightly relieved to see that the owl isn't actually a real owl, he relaxes. He's not exactly keen on having to endure any more pain, but she does have a point. It's going to be a *****, otherwise. And he doesn't particularly want to kick around like some kind of crooked hunchback with a back-to-front foot and hand. "Jusdoitalready," he sighs, waiting for instruction.


* Every set the toy on his chest before she went to collect her first aid kit so she'd be able to attempt to keep it all still. "Swear if you need to. If your shadow has a mind of it's own and hits me, I'm hitting you back." She didn't know if his could do that, but things happened and she'd been on the receiving end one too many times. "Let's do your leg first." She moved to it, getting ready.


* Jesse Fforde 's shadow had been eerily still, lately. Yes, it had a mind of its own sometimes, but he didn't think it would cause any problems now. Jesse grasps at the plush toy that he been placed on his chest, his other arm useless at his side. He nods at Every - he's ready.


* Every had never thought having sports injuries would come in handy as she carefully adjusted the injury and straightened it out, pressing on the injury quickly to work before straightening it out. Afterward, she moved to his arm, doing the same. She didn't want to linger and wait until he was completely calm again. "What were you thinking?" She asked without really thinking to not.


* Jesse Fforde doesn't swear. Doesn't even make a sound as his bones are set, as it feels like his limbs are being torn in half. His entire body tenses beneath the onslaught of agony, however; his knuckles are bone-white as he near squeezes the innards out of the stuffed owl. Stars dance beneath closed eyelids, and Every's voice comes to him through a haze. "I wanted to die," he says through clenched teeth. He doesn't think it's a secret. It was rather obvious.


* Every was surprised that he answered her, knowing how he seemed to usually be so intent on keeping quiet about himself. "Yeah, well. I can assure you that The Shadow Realm is no cakewalk. Only a handful deserve to go there in my opinion." She stated, frowning. How was she going to fix his back? She'd probably save it for Micah... no. He and Vel were having a date day. Her hazel eyes lifted to his skull, knowing there wasn't much she could do there. It was likely cracked, hers had been as had Vel's. Both of them had healed it completely.


* Jesse Fforde doesn't continue to share. She has asked what had he been thinking, and he had answered simply. He had already had this discussion with Micah, and isn't keen to repeat himself. He wonders whether the handful Every thinks deserve the SR are those that Tytonidae send there. Even now, Jesse is unsure where the suicidal urges are coming from, or why. The Shadow Realm calls to him, the call getting stronger each day. He doesn't confess this. He breathes heavily, the act unneeded, but it helps to soothe him.


* Every set her hand lightly over his knee while he breathed, remaining silent as she listened to the sounds around them. She understood the action, she did it more than she thought. After a moment she moved her hand to her thigh. "I can't crack your back... or well. I don't know if I can, considering it was broken three times, I wouldn't know where to start." She reached for a set of ace bandages. "Maybe not moving around might be best, be summoned everywhere or have Doc look at it tomorrow."

[Every]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

* Jesse Fforde shifts uneasily. "**** no, not Doc," he says. The last time Doc was doctoring Jesse, he tried knocking him out with some kind of drug when the last thing Jesse wanted was to go back under. He hadn't had a great experience with Doc. Deep down he knew it couldn't hurt. Again, he is being stubborn. "You should just give it a go," he says, preferring to get it over and done with now.


* Every crinkled her nose, "Then you're going to have to roll onto the floor and risk a bloody nose." She scooted backwards at that, pushing her coffee table forward carefully so she didn't spill the roses that had been sent to her earlier in the evening. Valentine's Day. Ha. "And then lay on your stomach."


* Jesse Fforde groans as he does as he's told. Doesn't matter that the bones are set in his arm and, they still hurt like a ***********. It's his back that's causing him the most discomfort, however. By all means, he shouldn't be able to move at all, but he does so only because he knows it's not permanent. There's something freeing in knowing injuries would heal. It makes pain bearable. He rolls onto his stomach, still clutching at the stuffed green owl.


* Every had considered helping him down, but decided it against it as she crinkled her nose when he simply rolled. Oh well. When he was settled, Every moved to sit on his thighs unhappily recalling the teasing and conversation earlier with a roll of her eyes. Leaning forward, Every slid her hands underneath the man's shirt, carefully touching his skin. "Ready?"


* Jesse Fforde is slightly comforted by the feel of the woman's hands on his bare skin. He doesn't say anything, though. He doesn't tease, not when they're alone. The teasing is only for the public. Again, the yawning abyss threatens to creep up on him. He prods at it with his psyche. Why now? Why here? He gives a grunt. He's ready.


* Every resisted the urge to tell him he sounded like a caveman as she pressed down against his back, moving slowly along his spine to add pressure as she went, pausing and slowly realigning it. Every now and then, she could hear the loud 'pop' with her effort. Lightly, she moved up his thighs to get at a better angle, readjusting to repeat the process in case she missed anything.


* Jesse Fforde doesn't know, exactly, what he's doing as the bones are shifted back into place. This time he does shout and swear; the noise is smothered, however, as he bites down on the nearest soft thing. The poor stuffed owl might forever be marred by Jesse's teeth marks, the canines piercing small holes in the fabric. He made sure to stay absolutely still.


* Every got up once his back was back in place, moving to adjust the couch cushions and remove anything that she'll need within the cushions later before she adjusted to help the man lay back down on it. "Careful, move slowly."


* Jesse Fforde again, does as he's told. He moves slowly, the physical pain triggering something deeper, something that lulls him into complete silence again. He doesn't feel the urge to talk. When he's finally settled on the couch he sighs; the ache has overtaken his entire body. He knows he'll begin to heal, now. He knows it might take a while. He's still holding the stuffed owl, oblivious to the spit matting the fuzz on the fake bird's shoulder.


* Every set the pillow down beneath his head, carefully setting the blanket down over his body. "I'll summon you to your hut tomorrow, or down where the others are unless you're up before me and grab Vel or Micah to do so, or after me, when I'm doing Nix's hair while Prey plays with Pea." She didn't care if he cared or not, and as she saw what shape her owl was in, a smirk played across her lips. "That was a birthday gift from Phoenix a couple years ago."


* Jesse Fforde doesn't really care about tomorrow. The words sort of drift over Jesse and he's in the middle of offering a non-commital shrug when Every mentions about the owl. The owl he doesn't really realise he was still clutching. He looked at the thing in surprise; his fingers uncurl. They are stiff. He watches as the stuffed creature tumbles to the floor. Every has, pretty much, tucked him in. He gives a smirk. "Thanks, mum."


* Every 'accidentally' struck her hand out against the broken leg the moment he called her mum, a roll of her eyes before she leaned over to collect her stuffed animal. Afterwards, she used the blanket to wipe off the spit, "Welcome jackass."


* Jesse Fforde the strike of her hand only adds to the reverberation of aches that tumble through his body. "Aw, c'mon," he whines, like a kid. Kidding, of course. He wants to be able to curl up in the fetal position, but his bones won't allow him to do that. He stays, straight and narrow, and doesn't move. "Youloveme," he says. He can't help but tease, sometimes. And his head has begun to spin.


* Every tensed lightly at the word, unnoticeable unless he really had been observing her physical stance as she moved around before going to collect a candle she kept lit in the evening before turning off the light. With it in hand, she pulled the coffee table closer once more. "Bathroom is to the left of the door. I have a dog and a hedgehog," She looked towards the cage where the smaller animal could be seen wobbling around, "TV is hooked up to the internet, remote is there. I've got two bottles of blood in the kitchen, hollar if you need anything."


* Jesse Fforde watches everything. Saw Every tense, even as she moves around. Maybe one day I'll try get into her head, subtly. Not right now, though. And not when she doesn't pry about my problems, either. "Thanks," he says. He eyes the TV. He'll probably make use of it, given his tendency to avoid sleep.


* Every nodded her head softly, "You're welcome, Jesse." Every gave him a small, light smile before she started to head to her bedroom, "I hope you feel better." She said it just before she shut the door behind her, the sounds of an ocean track eventually being turned on lowly sneaking out underneath as she turned in for the evening.


* Jesse Fforde doesn't end up turning on the TV. Instead, he listens to the sound of the ocean as it ekes out from Every's room. He stays absolutely still as he stares at the ceiling, trying not to grind his teeth, focusing mainly on the pain in his body to distract him from his thoughts.

[Every]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

* Every had taken her time after she'd woken up to get ready for Nix, showering before she had changed into a pair of sweatpants and a slightly baggy teeshirt. Afterwards, she had summoned Jesse back to the shop and with the damaged green plushie in hand, she returned to her apartment before sending a text to her friend. 'Alright, I'm up.' She sent the directions and flopped down on the couch, studying the stuffed animal in wonder of fixing the fang marks.

* Phoenix for her part had performed the main task: procuring hair dye in the perfect shade of red to revitalize her bleached locks. The box said that for her length of hair, two boxes would be appropriate, but paranoid as she was, she'd picked up three. Just as the cashier, a very bubbly woman, considering it must have been near the end of her shift, was checking out her purchase, Nix's phone buzzed. Text from Every. With a grin, the soon to be redhead replied to the woman's message. 'I'm just getting the dye. I'll be there in 10 minutes.' After hitting the send button, she paid and made her way out the shop and over to West Towers; it was a quick walk from the market and the weather was mild, at least. Like clockwork, about 10 minutes later Nix lifted her hand to knock on Eve's apartment door.

* Every turned on her stereo after a little while, making sure the music wasn't too loud from habit of living with other people for most of her life and quietly hummed along to the tune to go and collect what she'd need for the evening - towels, a bowl, etc. Her wraith, Cypriana, had been asked to watch the door for her while she prepared and as instructed, when Nix arrived, the cheery and friendly dead woman spoke out, "Miss Every said for you to come on in! She's wandering around and distracted a lot lately." And from inside behind the door, Every said, "I heard that Cypriana." She opened the door with a frown playing across her lips, stepping back. "Come on in, Nix."

* Phoenix grinned at the banter she heard through the door, even though it was muffled. It would have been nice to have such exchanges with her wraith, but the old Egyptian didn't have much of a sense of humor. When the door swung open, she stepped past Eve into the apartment, "Thank you, Cyp. Be nice, Eve." She chided playfully as she set the bag of dye on the counter before extracting one of the three boxes and holding it up to the side of her head. "This seems to be the right color... right? I want it as close as possible to the natural color. I got extra, so don't be shy about... dousing this horrible blondieness."

* Every eyed her wraith that seemed happy to receive thanks as the brunette simply waved her hand in the direction of the smiling female. "I am nice to her, she's just been very chatty lately on how I am." Pushing the door shut, she locked it from habit and made her way back to the kitchen. Every's hazel eyes narrowed lightly to study the box and gave a small nod of her head, "Yeah. We'll have to do a test strand either way to see how long it'll have to sit in your hair." Picking up another box and plucking away the one from Nix's hand, she moved to set it on her dining table where they'd be. "I still can't believe you stuck your head in a bucket."

* Phoenix blinked curiously, furrowing her brow. Test strand? This was news to her. "Don't you just stick it on and wait how long the box says, then wait a bit longer for more vivid color and only then rinse it out? I mean I'm blonde - not hard to cover that crap up. This test strand business seems silly. And not very time management sensitive." She nodded sharply, as if she'd decided it was nonsense, but then sighed. Eve probably knew what she was doing better than she did. "It was a big bucket, then I took a shower," she grumbled as she wandered to take a seat at the table. "This is like a spa day. You gonna do my nails, too?"

* Every gave a small shake of her head, "Did that once when I went ginger," She didn't really talk about it and as she sat down to begin mixing the dye, she spoke up again, "It was supposed to be red. Went carrot orange instead." She chuckled at the memory before pushing it away as another quickly began to make its way into her mind. "I can if you want, not like I've got anywhere else to be for tonight."

* Phoenix laughed at the image of a carrot top Eve, though she tried to disguise the laughter as a series of coughs over the fumes from the dye. "Strong stuff," she commented, still hiding a smile, albeit poorly. "I'm sure you made a wonderful carrot top. Did you keep it or did you re-dye it something a bit more... you?" As she spoke, her eyes flicked around the room, taking in the decor. When she saw the green owl plushie on the couch, Nix smiled, though she didn't comment.

* Every narrowed her eyes lightly but remained quiet as she stirred, agreeing about the smell of the fumes. At least they didn't have to breathe, Every knew it would have given her a headache immediately. "I kept it for a while, then went to a darker red before finally returning to brown. I'd put red highlights in, but Micah'd likely say something along the lines of ginger." She gave a shake of her head chuckling, nodding at her phone, "There's a picture of it on there somewhere."

* Phoenix reached for the phone, idly scrolling through the images for the right one. When she found it, she grinned. "Didn't look too bad, but yeah... I could see how Micah would... uh. Well, since I'm the only acceptable ginger - well, Ari too, I guess - I don't think he'd be too happy to have you go red." She set Eve's phone back down and picked up a towel, carefully wrapping it over her shoulders before flipping her hair out of the way. She'd washed it and let it dry without product, so the blonde locks were a bit of a mess. "What happened to Jesse last night?" she asked, the thought just occurring to her.

* Every lifted her shoulders in a shrug lightly, "I like my hair the way it is, more me, I guess. I was a dirty blonde for a while because of how much the sun bleached it." It just explained how often the woman had been outside in the sun prior to her turning, often out on the water or sitting out on a dock. While she didn't particularly mind the dark, she missed the way it felt sometimes. When the dye was ready, she picked up a tube of amber scented lotion that'd she'd use to make a barrier between Nix's forehead and the dye. "I summoned him onto my couch and didn't give him any warning." She wouldn't admit that seeing the man in pain had made her feel somewhat amused, but then again, he did tear two holes into her owl. "Set his bones, then let him sleep."

* Phoenix scrunched up her nose as the cream slathered her forehead. For some reason, this seemed to be the far most unpleasant part of the whole hair dying process, but she remained silent. She wasn't about to complain when Eve was being nice enough to do it. "I could see you as a beach bum dirty blonde. Definitely. The surfer chick look would suit you." She paused a moment as she mulled over Eve's explanation of the night, a bit of a smile curling her lips. "You set his bones? All of them?" She half-turned to scrutinize the woman with an arched brow and a wicked glint in those honey brown eyes.

* Every gave a small snort while she worked, delicately brushing her fingertips along the woman's forehead and then along the tops of her ears. "I'd hope so, spent enough time doing it when I was younger." She grinned softly, "It kind of kept me connected to my dad, he loved the water as much as I do." When she was done moving the lotion around, she wiped her hands on her sweatpants before twisting her own hair into a high ponytail so it'd stay out of the way for the duration. "Sports taught me how to do it, reading helped the rest. He bit into the owl you gave me when I fixed his back, I'm guessing to dull the scream. It's the only time he verbalized it." And to clarify, she added, "Only the broken ones. Though I did smack his hurt leg after."

* Phoenix listened in silence, something rather strange for the woman, nodding. The only thing she had that connected her to her father was the martial arts. Her eyes unfocused as she let her thoughts wander back, though she kept an ear on the conversation - she understood why Eve would have done something her father had loved. "Can't say I've ever been surfing, but it sounds like it'd be fun. Not really a nighttime sport, though..." At the mention of the owl, her eyes refocused and found it once more, still lying prone on the couch. "He bit the owl? Cruel. I'm sure you made him scream like a... banshee," she deadpanned. There was an innuendo there, but it wasn't a very good one. "You mean he didn't succeed in charming the pants off you in the train wreck state he's in? Good. You have standards."

* Every gave a soft nod of her head, "Yeah, haven't gotten much of a chance to go a lot last year, but I still manage to get a few breaks in when I went." Her lips turned into a light smile as she put on a pair of plastic gloves before she began to work on the test strand of hair. "Yeah, I'll patch it up when your whole head is ready to be dyed." Every leaned over and collected a small hair clip when she was finished, pinning it up to wait. "Let's try ten first." After, she returned to her chair, shrugging, "I don't think Jesse's going to be charming enough to get my pants off in all honesty. He's hot, but he's not my type and he seems to be too damn moody for my liking. Plus, I'm kind of a connection type of gal. Commitment, too."

* Phoenix grumbled at her hair being stuck up in this damn 'test clip'. She shot Eve a displeased look, but just grumbled about it instead of actually grumping. There were juicy relationship details to be had while the test strand was doing its thing anyway. She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table and dropping her chin into her cupped palms as she listened. "Jesse's very pretty. You're right, though. If he weren't constantly on his man-period, he'd be way more attractive. I mean, I get the whole broody allure thing, but he takes it to this whole new extreme of PMS... and MS." She paused, clearly amused by her own candor. "I like connection and commitment too, though I can't say Axel and I had an amazing connection before... **** happened." She shrugged, lips pursing thoughtfully. "If not Jesse, you have anyone else in mind?"

* Every smirked from the look and then lifted her shoulders while she sang a few bars quietly along with the stereo before she listened to Nix's words with another lift of her shoulders. "Not really into the broody allure, he's got his moments but nothing stays around too long for me to want to try anything." She crossed one leg underneath herself and freed her right hand from a glove. It was clean and she would put it back on later. "Sometimes it just has to grow. I like Jesse as a friend, but even then he makes me question it occasionally." When Nix asked if she had anyone else in mind, Cypriana cackled. The wraith knew the man. Every tapped her nail against her table before leaning over and collecting a pen and napkin, writing his name down and sliding it over.

* Phoenix nodded at Eve's assessment of Jesse. She'd been alienated by the man's general negativity nearly half a year ago, and so the sentiment wasn't new to her by any means. She didn't really want to try to sway the woman one way or another - Jesse would either salvage or sink himself and she had no need to influence that with Eve. When the napkin was slid over, she eyed the name curiously, slips slowly twisting into a grin. "You see each other often? I mean... If you two even see each other like that at all?"

* Every heard Cypriana comment, "They flirt a lot" to which Every turned her head to give the wraith a dark glare before she turned her attention back to Nix, "Nothing will likely come of it. I'm... a bit fucked up when it comes to that stuff after the last relationship. Wary, I guess is the best way to describe it." She stated softly, her ungloved arm curling around her midsection unconsciously while she thought about everything. Scared was better way to put it, really.

* Phoenix brightened visibly as Cypriana piped up. "Flirting is good," she blurted, ignoring the glare Eve shot the poor wraith. A hand came up to brush away Eve's worry - at least initially. "Something might come of it - might even creep up on you and take you by surprise." Not wanting to push Eve into explaining something she clearly wasn't comfortable with, she shrugged. "You never told me what happened last time."

* Every listened to her wraith snicker, "She likes him a lot." to which at this point the brunette didn't even bother to deny it. "I'm going to have to figure out how to summon a mute wraith." She simply mumbled from embarrassment before she blinked and looked up at Nix afterwards. She frowned faintly, a small sigh escaping past her lips before she bit the bottom one. After several minutes, the word "fadebeast" quietly slipped out and she got to her feet to go get something to remove the dye to complete the test. She didn't like to talk about it.

* Phoenix frowned, regretting her choice of words as soon as she saw their effect on Eve. She'd meant for the woman to simply brush it off, but that simple word - fadebeast - in the context of a relationship really did tell her everything she needed to know. Except, of course, which relationship this last one was referring to. She scrunched up her nose in distaste, but gave Every the time she needed to put the thought out of her mind. Instead of making it worse, she went about mixing the other two boxes of dye. If the stupid test strip was red enough after ten minutes, it'd be needed shortly. "Let things with you and him happen naturally. You'll be happier for it in the end - even if you two just end up flirting for years on end."

* Every calmed down quietly, shrugging it off as she thought about something pleasant before she eventually returned and set the bottle of water down. She figured they could just wash it out right there. "Long story short, it ruined something that wasn't that bad. The guy and I are still close, at least." It made her lips twitch into a small smile, "And I'm not mad at him... well. Kinda." She might be sometimes. Removing the clip with her ungloved hand, she began to spray out the dye carefully, pleased when the color was close to her original shade. "Looks like we've got a winner." Afterwards, she nodded her head softly to the last bit. "That's the intention we've got. If it does, it does. If it doesn't, we're happy to be who we are."

* Phoenix was pleased to hear that she was well on her way to re-gingerifying herself. With a happy little hum, she collected the other two bottles from the table and placed them along with the third in easy reach. "Then start slathering! At least you two are still friends, but that does sound kind of rotten. You're a better person than I am - I think I'd be livid and might have tried to kill him. But then if you've got your eye on someone else, then by all means, I suppose it's a good thing you two parted ways."

* Every carefully set out the wet strand before she put the other glove back on her hand, not particularly inclined to have the term caught red handed ever apply literally. "I was going to, but he did a vanishing act and hid from me. Won't go near Micah, who I actually got to calm down, either." She chuckled at the thought before she began to paint Nix's hair. It had been a while, she thought, since the two had actually sat around together to do anything. Then again, after everything that had been happening over the past year, Every hadn't particularly done it with many. "Yeah. I felt bad, but then again, with that, I can dangle it over his head I suppose. I'm not a better person, though, I'm more controlled."

* Phoenix listened some more, heartily amused by the bit about Micah. The hulking man had never seemed intimidating to her, but perhaps that was just her lack of self-preservation speaking. She could certainly see how his sheer size would put some people off. Then she seemed to realize the rest of what Eve had said - the bit about calming Micah down. As the dye started weighing down her hair, she perked a brow. "True. Dangling can always be fun... I bet he owes you a few favors at least for being a dick. And you can always threaten to sic Micah on him if he's that scared." She snickered to herself. "What were you calming Muffin down about?"

* Every nodded in agreement to what she had said, he did. "Micah was the one that had removed... it." She explained lightly, "I wouldn't let anyone else touch me, the guy offered... but no." Dipping the brush back into the dye, Every paused for a moment to fix one of the gloves before continuing, "He wanted to beat him to death and back. I told him it wasn't worth it." A small smile graced her lips as she remembered the conversation with her sire. "I keep trying to coax the guy to a fight night but no. Apparently he thinks my sire will pound him into the cage." Which, he probably would, but hey.

* Phoenix laughed outright, giving a slow shake of her head. She could just imagine Micah raging after ripping a fadeling out of Eve - it really wasn't a laughing matter at all, but Jesus, talk about awkward. She sobered, trying to push the humor from the situation she was imagining. "If what he wanted to do to Jesse was any indication of the protectiveness he gets when it's just a broken rib, I'm not sure how you managed to talk him down... I have a feeling this guy would have been beat senseless."

[Phoenix]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

* Every would have told her that it was, oddly enough, a slightly humorous situation indeed but gave a small chuckle regardless and a shake of her head, "Dude hid for months after... I saw him once after, said we were going to continue try and then I ended up breaking it off..." She trailed off with a small sigh, "We didn't see each other much, different schedules. He goes to school, is able to go in the sun... and I live in the shadows. We might get a chance in the future again, we might not." She wasn't sure which but, oh well. "Micah found him once, I was amazed he didn't beat him."

* Phoenix tried to stifle her laughs this time with far more success. "Sounds kind of like a dick, though. I'd probably have decked him on your behalf. I'm shocked Micah didn't at least try to beat him too... He would have deserved it." She nodded sagely, then went stalk-still, remembering she shouldn't be bobbing her head around too much, what with the dye. "Still, even with the conflicting schedules, that does sound a bit more romantic than what happened with Axel and I... I don't see an end to it, but yeah. That didn't start out well."

* Every smirked, "Always can if you see him. Blonde hair, kinda pasty. Smells like chlorine, eyes like a reptile." She explained his description while she worked, eventually taking a few more clips to keep Nix's hair out of the way before she moved to sit down. She set the time on her phone, "I think the important thing is that you two are happy. Otherwise? It's not really any of my business." She had been saying those last few words often lately and frowned faintly in thought, "Just know that if you ever need to talk or anything, I am here and I'll attempt to listen."

* Phoenix blinked at her curiously, then laughed. "It's one of the Dragomir twins? The one that's not Superbia? That makes so much sense. They both always seemed kinda... flaky." She shrugged, wishing for the nth time this week that she could see her reflection. People always looked funny with a head full of dye. "Oh no, we are happy. We just... well. He came over to ream me about the whole Jesse business. Then he broke some of my furniture and blew out my window, then..." Had she been human, she'd have blushed. "Angry sex. Very, very angry sex. It was all very cathartic. We ended up curled up in bed, cuddling."

* Every gave a soft nod of her head, "Azariel. He's actually not as big as an idiot as he acts." She chuckled, to which Cyp who wasn't quite fond of the man snorted and Every felt her lips twitch to hide a smile. "Hey, whatever works I guess. I mean, I drew a dick on Ariel's forehead the night we were official." And she still found it amusing, comparing something in her head quickly before she snickered. "Let's just try not to lose this Nix again, ever." She squeezed the woman's shoulder.

* Phoenix was about to reply to what Eve'd been saying - specifically about drawing a dick on the poor guy's head, but then her shoulder was squeezed. Her brows furrowed thoughtfully as she met Eve's eyes and held her gaze for a moment. Though she knew it was childish and needy, she had to ask. "You like this Nix better than the... bitchy, snarky one? I mean, of course everyone likes it better than crazy-Nix." A pause. "Except Doc." As far as she was concerned, Zoey didn't count as a person, let alone a person whose opinion held any worth.

* Every pressed her lips lightly together before she answered, "This Nix is the Nix I became friends with and considered family when I was sired by Micah. I don't like useless, petty drama and even if you don't mean it when you're bitchy and snarky, it can appear that you're being hostile." She pursed her lips as she thought about the best way to describe it. She didn't trust many people, especially after dealing with the constant headaches over the past few months, "I can handle bitchy and snarky, I just prefer not to because it's pretty much not something I'm interested in conversing with especially when I know it's not the true person beneath."

* Phoenix listened. She could remember a time when the words would have hit a bit too close to home, when she may have snapped back with something unpleasant in defense of her past behavior... But now, she simply took pause and assessed what Eve said and found that none of it hurt or stung - none of it made her bristle or even consider getting on the defensive. It was simple truth and she appreciated it. A smile played over her lips and she nodded. "I think... there's a better way to handle things than how I have in the past, and I'm slowly realizing that handling things that way isn't actually a sign of weakness. It's just more respectful to everyone you care about, which is more of a strength. You've been good at the smacking me thing," she grinned, clearly appreciative of the woman's prodding.

* Every smiled in return, a soft nod following her words as she agreed. She had always closed off and fled, and it was something that she was still working on as she relaxed lightly. "Smacking is generally just an automatic response, I used to be afraid of you..." She admitted lightly, removing one of the gloves and turning it inside out before she pushed some of her bangs behind her ear, "It's alright to pull back some when you're hurt... but with some people, I've learned recently from experience, it's not fair to them for you to run or snap back at them."

* Phoenix pursed her lips into a thin, thoughtful line before tipping her head back just a bit. The weight of three bottles worth of dye seemed to be dragging her head back. Her lips quirked into a smile and she winked to Eve. "You totally should be afraid of me - I'm a scary ***** when I'm angry. The good, normal, healthy kind of angry, not the raging psychopath kind of angry..." she trailed off and then frowned, "Though I suppose that's actually more scary... Huh." Her eyes turned serious as she considered the last bit of what her friend said and how it applied to her. "I just hate feeling like I'm being left out in the cold, and that's when bad **** starts happening. I'm... working on it. I think it's going well."

* Every gave a shake of her head, "Wasn't really that. Yeah, you can knock me on my ***, but it was more so the fact we were close before you went raging lunatic." She scratched her cheek with her nails lightly, wiggling her nose faintly before she nodded her head in agreement. "It seems to be so now. Frankly, now I just ignore the stupidity or snap a rubber band against the inside of my arm... or go take my anger out in a stealth raid."

* Phoenix scrunched up her nose at the mention of a stealth raid. Her stills were remedial, at best, and so she wasn't likely to be successful with any of those anytime soon. Which really was a pity - there were some good relics to be found tucked away in secret locations, apparently. "You should loan me some elastic bands. Ones with really good snap. Why'd I scare you before, though? Off-putting bitchytude?"

* Every glanced at the timer lightly before she snickered, "I'll give you some after we wash this out." She wiggled her gloved hand at Nix where the red dye was staining it. After a few moments of thinking, Every lifted one shoulder in a shrug, "It was more so the unneeded bitchytude considering I had never done anything to you to deserve it. So maybe it was moreso just... confused distance mixed with wariness?"

* Phoenix flicked her eyes to the timer, thankful it was almost done and then flinched back as that glove slapped at her face. "Ew." The drying was getting awkward around the periphery of her head. As the timer ticked down, nearing the final minute, she pushed herself to her feet, tipping her head to the bathroom, though also careful not to drip. "Fair observation at the time. I was kinda of a **** when I joined Volkov/Andras... I mean, not as bad as I could have been, but still pretty superior and bitchy." Without skipping a beat, she changed the subject, "Might as well position myself for the rinsing before the time's up, yeah?"

* Every stood up with her, giving a nod of her head while she tucked her phone away into her sweatpants, "Yeah, but again, never did **** to you. I'm actually considerably polite to everyone even if I want to break their face in." She followed after Nix snickering softly as she picked up the second towel she had brought into the living room. "Yeah, might be best." She removed remaining glove, collecting another pair and slid them on as she slipped into the bathroom. She wasn't surprised at all to smell the sweet scent of her shampoo still lingering in the air.

* Phoenix paused in the doorway of the bathroom before shuffling over and kneeling by the side of the tub. After sticking her head under the faucet, she heard the timer go off, albeit faintly from the depths of Eve's pocket. It occurred to her that, should anyone barge in over the next few minutes, the scene would be quite amusing: Nix bent over the tub, *** in the air, with Eve bent over her, rubbing at her scalp. Of course it was perfectly normal girl behavior to do each other's hair, but still, she giggled. "I never did **** to you either, whippersnapper," she teased, turned just enough so she could see the woman. "I'm working on my polite - you're a good role model."

* Every reached up to collect the removable shower head, finding the hose to be that much easier for the situation as she moved to pull Nix aside lightly so the water would be able to heat up. "Whippersnapper? What are you, fifty?" She furrowed her eyebrows together, "And thank you. It's not easy, but I like to think being able to tell someone to **** off politely without getting in trouble helps a lot with my attitude."

* Phoenix smiled at Eve's consideration for her comfort. Though it was unnecessary, she supposed, it was nice nonetheless. "I could be fifty for all you know... Whippersnapper. At least I'm not calling you Weave," she laughed, though she thought the nickname was cute. "I'll work on getting my polite **** offs down pat and then we'll have a passive aggressive competition or something. High-class insult festival." She shifted position, making herself as comfortable as possible before being doused in water.

* Every gave a small roll of her eyes as she heard the nickname once more and then chuckled quietly, "True, but hey, I can call him Molly now and he can't say anything." She replied, "He started calling me it after he heard Azariel call me Eevee. I've always told everyone so long as I can understand who they're talking to, they're welcome to call me whatever. So." She set the towel on Nix's ***, it was there so why not use it as a table, before leaning over and beginning to massage the dye out of the woman's hair. "Sounds good to me."

* Phoenix grumped as her *** was used as a table, which implied it was flat. It was kind of flat, but that was besides the point. She liked the think she was somewhat bootylicious... Even though her stick-like figure really wasn't. "I'll stick with calling you Eve. Because you're an Eve and everything else seems weird and kind of wrong. Eevee is kind of cute, though. Like the Pokemon, right?" She would have said more, but just then, Eve's fingers began massaging her scalp. Hair dying or not, it lulled her into contented silence.

* Every managed to avoid snickering as she worked, very much aware of how weird it was the way she was standing but ignored it. "Yeah, Eevee, Evee, same concept." Once all of the dye was out, Every paused to collect a color safe conditioner - she had multiple bottles of hair care products scattered about, mostly full showing how rarely she was in the apartment itself - and began to apply it through the woman's hair.

* Phoenix watched, mesmerized, as the crimson water fell to the bottom of the tub, swished around and then finally made its way down the drain. It was far too orange to be blood, but she could imagine it was, sick creature that she could be. She spotted the conditioner Eve was about to use - the box had come with its own brand of sealant - but she didn't know what the **** she was doing, so she trusted Eve's judgement. "Is it actually reddish orangish? Or did it turn magenta or something?" Maybe, just maybe, she was a bit worried. The water looked right, but you never knew.

* Every rolled her eyes and couldn't stop the reply, "No, I somehow managed to slip magenta food coloring into your hair dye while you were sitting and watching me the entire time." She managed to keep a balanced tone, the words coming out casually to the point it could have sounded plausible to those that didn't know her better. "It's reddish, we'll see how orange when I dry it."

* Phoenix stared at the water that still had a reddish tinge as it leaked off her head. Somehow, she suspected purple food coloring really wouldn't have done the trick anyway. "Next time, you'll need more food coloring - I think you missed the mark on this one," she laughed, playing along. "I want my gingerlocks back. You have a blow dryer?" She wasn't being impatient, she was genuinely curious. Was that a thing that Eve owned?

* Every rinsed out the conditioner afterwards, making a mental note to wipe the tub down later with peroxide in case there would be any red residue remaining against the porcelain tub. "I'll be sure to do so." She snickered, leaning forward to turn the water off before she removed the towel from Nix's *** and wrapped it around the woman's head carefully. "I do, yeah. I know I don't look like it, not really one to even use it." She had a hair straightener and curlers, too. "Sometimes I like to look pretty. Most of the time I don't really give a flying leap, never spent much time on my appearance and probably never will. I can't exactly see myself in a mirror and I don't particularly feel like standing there with a camera facing me so I can get an image of what I'm doing."

* Phoenix was glad when the water finally seemed to have rinsed clean and was turned off. With the towel wrapped around her head, she stood from the incredibly awkward position and stretched herself out. She didn't complain though - it probably hadn't been a cake walk for Eve, either. And then she laughed at the woman's reaction. "Oh dear, Eve... You sound kind of defensive. I was going to say you're just naturally beautiful and don't need any fancy shmancy tools to enhance nature's perfection." She batted her lashes as she wrung as much water from her tresses as she could. "I don't mind leaving it dry on its own, I just wanted to see if it's actually red when it dries." She was skeptical - what she'd seen didn't seem to be the same color as her regular hair when wet.

* Every stepped back and stretched out, leaving the shower head to dangle while she moved to put the conditioner back in it's usual place. Clearly, she still wasn't used to any form of comments about her looks as she simply made a face before leaving it with a simple "hush." She would have blushed had she been able to anyway. "Well, like we thought it probably won't be the exact same shade... but you won't look like those little old ladies that go in with gray hair and come out with neon red hair?" She lifted an eyebrow.

* Phoenix hooked a strand of hair from under the towel and blew on it. This continued for a few minutes until the strand, but some miracle, was actually dry. She inspected the tip of it critically, eyes narrowed as if she could, through sheer force of will, make the strand be the proper color of red. Finally, she let the new test strand fall, seemingly satisfied. "It's a bit more... red than I'd like, but at least it's not blonde. I'm sure the red will fade, too, once my copper takes over." She beamed, unwinding the towel before stepping out into the living room to snatch her brush from her bag. With the wet towel over her shoulder, she proceeded to brush out her newly minted curls. "Thanks Eve."

* Every watched her in amusement, a small chuckle escaping past her lips before she gave a nod of her head, "Yeah, it should. It doesn't look bad though." Setting the other towel in a nearby hamper, she padded out to follow the women with a smile playing across her lips. "Welcome Nix."

* Phoenix felt more like herself even if the color wasn't perfect - it was better than it was, and even knowing it was closer to right made her feel far more at home with herself. "Awesome. It'll dry fine now that it's brushed, too." She hummed thoughtfully to herself as she stuffed the wet brush back in the bag. A thought had occurred to her. "If you don't have anything planned for the rest of the night, you want to come hunting with me?"

* Every snickered quietly, but she understood Nix's reasoning with the color project. Every had liked being a ginger for a short time, but then she'd grown bored. Her dirty blonde locks had been the younger version of herself, and now... brunette fit perfectly. While Nix brushed her hair out, she went back into the bathroom and shut the door slightly to change into a pair of her usual faded blue jeans. She came out of the bathroom tucking one side of her baggy shirt into the waistband of her jeans, thinking about the offer. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

* Phoenix beamed as she removed the towel around her shoulders and tossing it, along with the one that had been around her hair, into the hamper. It was cold outside, but she'd be in the sewers long before the chill night air had the time to freeze her curls. After grabbing her jacket, she tipped her head towards the door, "After you, my lovely stylist." She winked to the brunette as she collected her bags, and followed Every out.

* Every pulled her jacket off the back of one of the chairs and shrugged it on, followed by picking up her bag that contained her blade and gun before she made her way out of the apartment, holding the door open for Phoenix as she locked the bottom knob.