Congratu....Condolences? [Keara Aithne]

[Peter Parkman]

[OOC: Backdated to the 19th of March]

As much as the way Keara and Enver argued with each other infuriated Peter, he still knew that they loved each other. There was something about the memory of his sire tackling that fadebeast head-on and fearless, while pregnant, that diminished any fear that he might have for her survival. The way in which Enver always stuck to her side, seeming to have forgotten Peter’s very presence the last time that he had seen them, confirmed that any fear that Peter did have, he shouldn’t – Enver wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

There was the fear, of course, that they’d get into some argument. One where Enver would leave the room and Keara had to summon a fadebeast to get him back. What if he did that again, and that was the time at which the creature decided to claw itself out of Keara’s gut? What if she lost all faculty to communicate with him? Peter supposed that’s why he’d stopped to tell them to quit arguing. That one last bit of advice before he left them alone.

That was the last time he had seen them, but not the last time he had heard from them. Somewhere, a couple of days ago, they’d both messaged him – Enver by phone and Keara by telepathy – to inform him that she was fine. Peter sagged with obvious relief and messaged Enver to say thanks, for letting him know, and to pass on to Keara to feel better soon. He doubted she felt very good. He also doubted that either of them would want to see him straight away, and thus he stayed away – that was assuming that they were still on Enver’s boat.

It was two days later that Peter finally assumed Keara might be feeling good enough for company. The blood had been delivered to his front doorstep; he’d fed and showered and was now dressed. He was still accustomed to dressing as if he were going to work – black slacks, white shirt, thin black tie, and a trench coat, for appearance’s sake. He meandered toward the fadeportal that would take him to the city. He wanted to get her something before he met with her. He had no idea what, but anything. Something.

It was only when he landed in the middle of the street that he messaged her.

”Feeling up to company?”

He pushed the phone into his pocket and glanced around, before making his way toward the nearest gift shop.

[Attire]]

[Keara Aithne]

The wounds had healed but the memory of it all was still fresh in her mind as she began tidying up the cell she had neglected for the better part of 3 weeks. The main areas of the Asylum were cleaned by a professional company, but the cells themselves were off limits unless those that owned them wished the places to be cleaned. Keara never allowed such people into her own cell as that was her sanctuary, well her’s and Enver's now and the idea of having someone else in there did not sit well with her. Enver was out doing whatever it was he needed doing, as having been at her side for the better part of three weeks, he was likely needed in one or more of his businesses.

The text message startled her slightly, as while she was now use to the voice of another echoing inside her head, the ping of Skype, was something quite different. It was a wonder she even heard it, as she was so pre-occupied with what she had to do, that the connection she sustained with the internet was almost forgotten to her. Now came the dilemma of how to appropriately respond. Was it better to reply to the text or to speak into her son's mind? The former, oddly, required a little more concentration but the latter was a little intrusive perhaps; not that that really mattered to her as she was always in the mind of those she wished to speak to these days. In the end she decided that she would reply in kind and sent the message via Skype.

Company quite lovely would be. At home I now am. By which mean I do the Asylum.

She wasn't entirely sure where in the city her son was and if he had any other plans or things that needed to be done before he came over and so she continued with what she was doing. The bed sheets needed changing and it was a much easier task to get done without Enver around sitting on it, or trying to either pull her down onto the bed. She wasn't sure what it was about her and housework, but whenever she seemed to be busy doing something that needed to be done, that was seemed to be the time that Enver wanted her attention the most. She smiled at this fact and for a second or two actually wished he was there to distract her. This thought passed quickly however, as the gift that kept on giving began pulling at the sheets and growling at her like this were some sort of game.

"Swear I do that if a dog you were not. Question I would your parentage. Too much time spend you do watching your father."

Gizmo didn't let up, his tiny jaw locked on the material, insisting in his own way that the sheet was his and it was going into his bed with him.

"Drop it," she commanded.

Unable to spank his tiny little butt with her hand, as she still had a hold of the sheet, she reached out with her bare foot and tapped him with that. Knowing when to give in was one of Gizmo's survival skills, and so he promptly opened his mouth, released the sheet and began scratching behind his ear with his hind leg rather nonchalantly.

[Peter Parkman]

The Asylum. Easy.

Peter had to stop to reply. He was a man more focused on books than on technology and he hadn’t yet acquired the talent that the majority of his students seemed to have – to be able to keep one eye on their phone at all times, while also being hyper-aware of the world around them. Peter had to do either one of the other. And so he paused, to type out his reply:

”Okay. I’ll message you when I’m there.”

He continued toward the gift shop, picking up the pace a little now that he knew Keara knew he was coming, and that she might be waiting for him. He stood in the middle of the gift shop with a slack jaw, having no idea where to start. The shop assistant approached and asked whether they could help.

”I ah… am looking for something for… a friend, of mine. She had a … well she kind of had a baby and lost it,” he explained. There was hope in his eyes. This person worked in a gift shop. They should know exactly the perfect gift off the top of their heads. Right? Instead, the shop assistant awkwardly hummed and hahed, their eager gaze sliding from Peter’s face to glance frantically around the store. In the end, Peter ended up doing the kid a favour and leaving without having bought anything.

Anyway, he wasn’t sure he knew Keara well enough to know what kind of gift she might prefer. Instead, he remembered the small dog that the two of them now seemed quite fond of. Instead of buying anything at the gift shop, Peter found a shop that would sell him a small fluffy dog jacket – something to keep Gizmo warm while in the company of vampires. He also bought a squeaky toy that looked like a duck.

Half an hour later he found himself on the ground floor of the Asylum, lingering just inside the doors. He pulled out his phone and texted Keara:

”I am downstairs. Should I come to you?”

He knew the Asylum was far bigger than he gave it credit for, and knew there were a number of places where he could find Keara. He stood and waited, the toy and the little coat tucked into one of the oversized pockets of his trench coat, his own hands shoved into separate pockets, one curled around the phone so that he would know if he received a text in reply.

[Keara Aithne]

"Little beast," she grumbled, the words sounding more like something her husband would say but they came as naturally to her as they would have to him.

She finished up with the bed as quickly as possible, partially to avoid Enver coming home and spoiling her progress, and partially as she wasn't sure exactly how long she had till Peter arrived. With this done, she moved into the bathroom to straighten herself up. Enver preferred she tied up in a specific outfit, but with him out of the way she often didn't bother donning the thing. Tidying was not as dirty work as he liked her to think it was, at least it wasn't when it was done regularly and/or no-one had been hone for a while. Her attire was typical of her and having missed being able to wear her clothing, she was dressed about elaborately as she could be, her hair was divided and in two low pigtails. Her skirt was of about its usual length, perhaps an inch or two shorter, a mass of black ruffled lace over a an opaque black underskirt. She wore a red bodice with black detailing and yet more lace trimmed this article of clothing. The look was finished off with a simple black chocker, which was made of (yes you've guessed it), lace and sported a binding tie and detailing of red ribbon. Her usual jewellery adorned her wrists and fingers, as while housework was a dirt task, it wasn't something that would ever make her take those particular items off.

Now that the bedroom was about as straight as it was going to be, all she had to do now was get on with sorting the laundry. By the time the next message came through, she had sorted their clothing appropriately and had made a pile of suits to be sent out. One wash was in, the next was ready to ready to follow and she was just finishing bagged up the suits.

"Peter here is," she called out to Gizmo.

The small rat-like creature took his nose out of the laundry he'd been investigating and barked at her as if to urge her to go and meet him. While Gizmo wasn't particularly aware of who Peter was yet, he knew the tone meant something good or exciting was about to happen and so his little tail wagged furiously from side to side. Scooping him up into her arms, Keara made her way to the elevator and downstairs to greet Peter.

With the pup under one arm, Keara rather awkwardly tried to embrace her son before giving up on the idea of that and setting the creature on the floor so that she could greet him properly. As She put her arms around him for the second time, Gizmo's throat began to rumble in a soft growl before one if his more shrill sounding barks came from his tiny form.

"No!" Keara chastised him as she released her grip on Peter, her focus momentarily on her dog, her finger extended towards his nose.

Gizmo went quiet and sulked for a moment, falling onto his butt. It wasn't until Keara's eyes were back on Peter that he tentatively stood up and began circling the male's shoes, every circuit bringing him closer until his nose was pressed against them.

"Sorry. Strange creature he is. For affection to watch, him angry does make. Know not why." She shrugged her shoulders slightly at this phrasing. "Nice it is for you to see. Well you look. Are you well?"

[Peter Parkman]

It wasn’t long before Peter heard the ding and the gliding of doors, indicating that the elevator had arrived at the ground floor. He turned toward the sound expectantly; it might not even be Keara. It could be one of the many other occupants of the Asylum. It was Keara, however, looking as intimidating as ever in her goth-inspired get-up, even if she was a fair bit shorter than Peter. The one thing that made her that tiny bit less intimidating was the small dog nestled under her arm – the small creature that got in the way when Keara tried to hug Peter.

The dog was soon deposited on the ground so that a proper greeting embrace could be given, one which Peter returned with all the warmth and welcome that he could muster. Although he could be a little socially awkward, he knew how to give a good hug – how to squeeze tight but not too tight, how to make the receiver of the hug feel as if they are admired. Gizmo let loose what he no doubt thought was a menacing growl. Keara tried to excuse the dog, after reprimanding him. Peter just laughed.

”He’s probably just jealous. And the way you and Enver are probably with each other…” he trailed off, arching a brow up at Keara as he crouched down to greet the dog properly. ”The guy probably feels like second-fiddle. Isn’t that right, Giz? Huh?” the latter half of the sentence obviously directed toward the dog as Peter reached out to ruffle the creature’s fur, to pet him, and give him all the attention his tiny little heart desired. He chuckled under his breath as he pulled the toy out of his pocket. He pressed the fluffy thing to make it squeak, which caused Gizmo’s ears to perk. Peter then threw the toy across the room, hoping that the little dog had at least been taught the basics of fetch.

When he stood, he held out the little dog jacket to Keara.

”I ah.. I went into the shop. I wanted to buy you a gift but came out with things for Gizmo instead,” he said, somewhat abashed. ”Because I am perfectly well – it’s you who might not be. How are you?” Peter asked, though the question, now that he was looking at Keara, seemed irrelevant. She looked as good as she ever did, and probably did not require any kind of coddling.

[Keara Aithne]

"Hmm..."

She had to give what he said about Gizmo some though and she looked down at the tiny creature as he too was greeted in an appropriate manner. It was almost funny to her how animal lovers liked to stop and greet other people's pets. She'd been stopped a few times in the park behind their house for other people to greet and appraise her pooch, having to give his name on every occasion, as it seemed almost important for people to know what they needed to call him.

"Thought I did that he our attention preferred. As in...prefers he does if we upon him do focus. Instead of one another. Liked he has not from the first moment that he us did meet when affectionate we are. Knew then he did not how we are."

She didn't play down the attraction she and her husband shared with one another. There was very little point in doing so around Peter, as he himself had born witness to their level of intimacy (to a lesser extent that was). Keara and Enver did their best to behave when others were around but poor Peter had already seen more than most in the way they were with one another when no-one else was looking.

Having addressed the issue of Gizmo's behaviour, she now took a hold of the jacket she'd been offered. It was rather cute and would probably keep him warmer than the t-shirt she'd cut up for him. There was a soft smile on her face as she realised that she could perhaps sneak a few animal orientated clothing items into her own store, as she was sure that there were people out there that would wish to dress their pets in a matching outfit.

"Most thoughtful this is," she said stooping to the floor and taping upon it.

Gizmo's ear's perked up and he almost dropped his new toy, which he was trying desperately hard to keep a hold of as he came trotting back to her. He gave a small disgruntled growl as she pulled it from him and placed it between her knees so that she could try fitting the jacket on him. He wriggled and squirmed a little at the start but he was chastised once more, the tone of Keara's voice telling him that this ordeal would be over quicker if he behaved. Once released, he began twisting and turning to try and see what it was that was upon him which caused Keara to laugh softly. Standing back up, fuzzy duck in hand, she looked back to Peter.

"Quite well I am. Lucky I was for to survive what happened did. Know I do not still how what happened, happened. But likely is that power that have I do saved me did. Saved us even. As if defeated I had been, attacked it would have Enver next."

She shook her head at that thought, knowing all too well that her husband was just stupid enough to stand there and let the thing kill him so that he could be with her in the Shadow Realm. Knowing this as she did, her wanting to survive had possibly been more for his sake than her own even, as her desire not to have him follow her was stronger than her desire to survive the event herself.

[Peter Parkman]

It was amazing how little Keara seemed to know how dogs worked. Actually, it was a constant surprise to Peter how little attuned Keara was sometimes to modernity; it made sense, in the grand scheme of things, and he should probably come to expect it now. But with dogs – well, haven’t they always been this way? Completely loyal in a way that sometimes means they get a little too possessive. A little too protective. Peter had to wonder who it was that Gizmo was most protective of. Keara or Enver? In this scenario, it seemed like it was Keara’s affection he was most fond of.

Talk of affection between two people wasn’t enough to discomfort Peter. Sometimes, he could be far too reasonable and clinical for his own good. Yes, sometimes his emotions got a little out of hand, and he could become the epitome of awkwardness if unprepared, but here and now he was not bothered. Keara and Enver were married, and thus mention of an ‘affectionate’ relationship between them was not unexpected. It was perfectly normal and natural. Of course Peter was aware that neither of them were celibate. He’d seen first-hand the consequences of their relations. If anything, it’s the consequence that he had cause to shudder at, rather than the acts that led to it.

Peter watched as Keara took the little jacket and attached it to Gizmo; smiled, too, when the dog tried to rebel against the item clothing, though he assumed the little creature would appreciate it when he realised how warm it would make him feel. Peter’s own dogs were the same when he first bought them jackets. Now, Jack and Ellie specifically, they get excited when he pulls them from their drawer (though of course that could also be because normally, the donning of jackets meant they were about to go for a walk).

Peter didn’t explain any of this to Keara, however, instead focusing on her answer to his more pertinent questions. Her well-being. Her words trickled into his brain and he rearranged them, putting them in the right order so that he could insure that he understood her correctly. It hardly inspired any confidence that Keara seemed to admit that it might have been a close call, and that both she and Enver could have died.

”You mean… you don’t think Enver could have killed it on his own?” he asked. He swallowed air that he did not need. He pushed his hands into his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward, as they normally do given his propensity to hide from the problems of the world. It was only now that the conversation started to discomfort him.

”What do you mean, if you didn’t have … which power?” he asked, still a little childishly giddy at being able to use the word ‘power’. As if they were all superheroes, capable of different things depending on their soul.

[Keara Aithne]

The answer to his first question was complicated. The short answer was perhaps just to say no but she couldn't bring herself to sell her husband short by announcing that and so she mulled the answer over, as there had to be a better way of saying no, without making him sound weak; something she was sure Enver would not want to be thought of.

"Complicated that answer is," she began. "Enver a number of gifts does possess and quite proficient with a gun he is... But... Well... No love has he for combat. No passion. Of us two. I the fighter am. Enjoy I do the challenge of such beasts to tackle. So more adept I am to such circumstances. If creature me could harm. Then likely is that Enver next would have been."

She was satisfied with this explanation. It was the truth but it was also a little diplomatic and didn't show Enver in a bad light. He wasn't a bad fighter, she was just a better one. He wasn't weak. She was just stronger. He didn't enjoy the hunt as she did, she knew this. He often hung back to watch her wield her blade. It was the way they were. They balanced one another. She had her strengths and he had his.

"As to the power. After much consideration over what skills possess I do and what possible was... Only one explanation there was. Somehow teleported Enos away I did. Normally that conscious decision is. Need think I do on person and then place to which sent they should be. With Enos aware I was not that done this I had. But that the same is when rituals wrong do go. Know not if I rituals to you explained have. Call forth you can a creature for your bidding to do. If succeed in task you do creature banished is. Sometimes however, creature escape can. Attack you then they do. And well... Proficient with that power I am. The one for self and others to teleport. Discovered one day I did that creature me did not attack once circle broken was. When came for me it did. Forced it I did from me before harm me it could. That instinctual is. Need think on that I do not. Think I do that the same with Enos done was. Expelled he was, as feared I did that he Enver or I would harm."

She'd prattled on long enough and Gizmo had taken to circling her, occasionally pawing at her leg as he wanted his new toy back. Squeezing the thing and causing it to squeak once, she then threw it a short distance from them, so that he would be forced to either fetch, or stay away and settle to inspect it further. What Keara had neglected to point out as she spoke, though perhaps it was obvious, was that Enos was what she'd named the parasite that had grown inside of her. Enver hadn't liked the fact that she'd named it but it seemed right to have something to address it by when it began to claw its way out of her.

[Peter Parkman]

Peter would not have thought that Enver was weak. In fact, as Keara explained it to him, Peter understood completely where she was coming from; could align himself with Enver, in a lot of ways. Peter was not a fighter, and nor did he think he would ever relish violence for the sake of violence. Of course he had practiced swordplay with Keara, but that had been for the sake of defence. There were plenty of creatures in this city that would do him harm; plenty of Hunters, too, that wouldn’t hesitate to send him to the Shadow Realm, even they had no idea who he was or what he stood for. For the sake of survival (and, he would admit, the need to be able to protect Jersey) he knew he had to learn the basics of violence. But he was happy to learn just the bare minimum.

Peter was happiest with his books, and in the quiet of places he considered to be home. Of course he had heard mention of Rituals before, and he wondered whether it was something he ought to dabble in. There were other things that he could also do in this life to keep himself occupied – things that had nothing to do with violence. He could follow in Enver’s footsteps and try to learn the basics of business. Perhaps that would suit him better than any other pursuit.

At first Peter was confused; he wondered if Enos was somebody he ought to know, and he found himself leaning forward with eyes narrowed in concentration as he listened to Keara tell her story, and the powers that came in handy. He was silent for a few seconds after she had finished, when it dawned on him. Enos was the fadebeast that she had given birth to – her power to teleport the creature to some unknown (or known?) destination was what saved them from any further hassle. His mouth opened in an ‘oh’ of understanding, the cogs turning in his brain as he crossed his arms over his chest.

”Is this why… why there are Fadebeasts in random parts of the city, sometimes? Maybe you’re not the only one who… would expel by instinct?” Peter asked. At first he thought that this would be the only reason why Fadebeasts would be running rampant through the city. But then it dawned on him as his thoughts caught up with him – no. They probably run rampant, too, when the mother is not so lucky.

”Wait, that was probably a stupid question. But… you don’t know where it went?” Peter asked. A Fadebeast landing smack bang in the middle of a crowd seemed equally as horrific as a random Fadebeast wandering the streets because it had just killed its mother. A shudder ran down Peter’s spine. He realised they were still standing in the middle of the lobby.

”I’m sorry – should we go sit somewhere more comfortable?” he asked, gesturing toward the room with the fireplace and the couches.

[Keara Aithne]

"Oh yes. That good idea would be," she said moving deeper into the Asylum.

Gizmo, who had just settled with his toy and was happily putting pin sized holes into the duck's rump, cocked his head to the side, his ears pricked as Keara passed him by. As soon as she was on the move, his tiny jaws clamped around his new prized possession and followed at the the best pace he could what with being so encumbered.

Keara moved into the centre of the room and seated herself upon the coffee table, as she always did. She waited to truly settle though until Peter had found a spot to call his own so that she wouldn't be sitting at some strange angle to him and thus made the conversation a little awkward what with having adopted such an odd position.

"Try I shall for your questions to answer but perhaps no good answers in these do I for you have. Know I do not whereto Enos went. Knew I did not that power this would do. Fortunate in that we were. Now that healed I am hunt I shall so many beasts as find I can in coming days. Hope I shall this way Enos to find. Ritual performed can be for such things within the city to find. And...hmm...think I do not that all creatures that way loosed are upon us. Sure I am that most females no such power have for such things to do. Forget not that human females such creature too can bare."

She paused for a moment and considered what he'd asked only a short while ago. Had she answered everything? She thought she had. She wasn't sure she had much more to add to the subject and so her lips stayed still, her eyes looking into Peter's as if she were assessing how much of the information had sunk in. A part of her was waiting for yet more questions to come spilling from his lips. Peter was the curious sort and she kind of liked that about him. Keara was quite open about what she knew and would happily make time for questions such as these. The new generation learned best by being able to ask what they needed too freely and so long as she had an answer to give, she didn't mind replying. She's heard a saying once about there not being any stupid questions, only stupid answers and she quite liked that, seeing as she was kind of the curious sort herself and didn't tend to hold back if she wanted to know something. Communication to her was paramount in many aspects of her life, even if people did find her words confusing to listen too and times. She and Enver had no shortage of misunderstandings stemming from what was said. They even came to blows at times but then that was the way they were and things always got sorted between them no matter how they choose to express themselves.

A small part of her wanted to enquire after Peter's human, of course she wasn't human any longer. A few short days ago she had been turned and had coincidentally ended up within her own clan. Keara’s mind had jumped from the topic of fadebeasts to humans to Jersey in a semi-logical sort of progression. While it wasn't unusual for Keara to be completely logical in her reasoning and thinking, she did have the habit of bouncing information around in her mind and sometimes circling back to or beginning new topics of conversation at a whim. Of course she tried not to do this in serious conversation or even casual conversation, if such conversations occurred in unfamiliar setting or around non-family members. At home and around those she cared about she was however much more prone to her own way of linking topics together. Enver probably saw this more than most; yet another way in which communication between sometimes turned sour between, as they were suddenly talking about two completely different things.

"How is your... Jersey."

This was how the question phrased itself after a moment's contemplation. Only just managing to drop the word 'human' in time but not before it made the female sound more like a possession. Not that she minded such phrasing. When addressing Enver she usually had the word 'my' in there somewhere, unless of course she had a question or was angry with him. These were little nuances that Enver had already picked up on, just as she had identified that he chose strange or uncommon pet names for here when they were at odds with one another.