[OOC: Backdated to April 25, 2014]
--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
‹Jesse Fforde› Renee had said something on the Crownet about there being Mooncalves in Bullwood. Mooncalves in a public place can never be a good thing. It's downright bad, actually, and a severe breach of the Masquerade. Curious, and eager to find out what's going on - experiment gone bad? The army, letting something loose? Conspiracy? - I head to Bullwood. I park the bike outside one of the shops and remove the helmet. From here, everything seems fine. With a sigh, I secure the helmet to the handlebar of the bike, shove my hands into my pockets, and begin an aimless wander. I am armed, of course, though it might not look like it to the innocent passer-by. I have learned how to properly conceal my weapons. And out here, I have to make sure that I do not engage any stray Mooncalves with powers. I keep it in mind as I cross the road, and begin peering down alleyways and side streets.
‹Phoenix› The shop merchant hands over a bag of blood. It looks like it's seen better days, the exterior grimy and smeared with something that could have been motor oil, but it's blood nonetheless. And really, who am I to judge something by its looks? I don't need to look down to know that I look like I just rolled out of a car wreck. What scraps of my leather pants aren't slicked with my blood are drowned in someone else's - where the tears have let blood seep inside, I can feel it congealing between the leather and my skin. Whatever.
With about as much regard for propriety as I have for my appearance, I down that grimy old blood bag. At least it's AB+; just my type. Finished, I toss the empty bag over the counter and stalk out, high on the undead equivalent of adrenaline. I want more carnage, more violence... but I'm not so far gone that I believe my appearance will go unnoticed. The shadows fold around me like an old friend as I stalk balk towards the place from which I've come - Glasshill Hall. I shuffle to a stop after only a few steps, staring across the street at the wandering man. I know him. I wish I don't, but I do.
I let the shadows fall away; I know this part of town well enough to be confident that I won't be seen by prying eyes - the shadows were for Gullsborough and Wickbridge. "Jesse," I hiss as I make my way across the deserted asphalt, a smile on my lips and a knife in hand, not that I remember drawing it.
‹Jesse Fforde› My wandering leads me to no stray Mooncalves. I can't see anything that doesn't belong in the alleys or corners, or even under the bright lights. A frown creases my brow - I wonder what it was that Renee saw. Was she imagining things? Or maybe some asstard dragged a single beast out into the open? Whatever the case, it's hardly an infestation, which is a relief. Movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. A flash of red that wasn't there before. I turn toward the rogue splash of colour - aha. Phoenix. Covered in blood and looking like she's stepped out of a Quentin Tarantino movie. Perhaps not as conspicuous as a Mooncalf, but still conspicuous. There's that violent gleam to her eye that I know so well, and a knife glinting in her hand. What now, I wonder? I arch a brow and cannot stop the dancing of a smirk at the corners of my lips. I keep the distance between us as she closes in. "Come to stab my eyes out again, Nix?"
‹Phoenix› Stab his eyes out again? Now why would I do that? "No... Once is enough." At least I mean that, but that doesn't stop me from reaching out with my mind to touch his. With a smile on my lips, I recall the sight of him on hands and knees, blood streaming from his eyes. It's not the visuals that I'm interested in, though. It's the words; his voice begging me to kill him - to finish what I'd started. That smile still on my lips, I package up those memories into a neat little box and I push them into his consciousness. Really, it's more of an assault than a push. "I've got a very vivid memory." Maybe the recollection of his own cowardice would wipe the stupid smirk off his lips.
‹Jesse Fforde› I have no idea what she's doing as that cold smile spreads over her lips. It only takes a few moments, however, before my mind is barraged with a whole bunch of images - memories that aren't my own of a night I'd truly before to forget. Well, isn't that just dandy? What supreme power thought it was a good idea to let Phoenix have these kinds of abilities? I'd like to go and throttle them. I flinch from the onslaught, and when the images finally dissipate, I meet Phoenix's eye. My own stare would be equally as steely as hers, I know it. "Right, that," I say. I suppose that's one thing I regret most - I don't like to appear weak to anyone, and I went ahead and threw myself at the feet of the worst person possible. The one who's going to take advantage of it from now until the end of eternity. I shrug. "That was kind of pathetic," I admit. "You can keep that one, so you know it's a way I will never act again."
‹Phoenix› Right, false bravado served everyone so well. I wish I could have stopped my eyes rolling, but at this point in my sad little life, it's an involuntary reaction to ********. Whatever this new found pep is, he'll likely lose it soon enough and end up once again rolling in his own misery, begging everyone else to end him without actually having the balls to do the deed himself. Typical. No point in wagging my dick around, though; I know mine's bigger. "Look," I can feel the mocking, sneering, sadistic glee wash out of me, replaced by stone cold determination, "I really don't know what your issue is. Frankly, I don't care. You've fucked up so goddamn many times, whether or not you want to admit it. Until you pull your head out of your *** - very dexterous of you, by the way - I'm not going to tolerate you around my line. I've heard you're snooping around, trying to make nice with my childer - don't. You chose to leave the line. Leave the line alone."
‹Jesse Fforde› I scoff. Snooping around? Trying to make nice? "I don't have an issue. I have none. Issues are moot. If you're talking about Pyper - she contacted me first. She was the one snooping - and I don't actually care," I say with another shrug. Maybe I should have cared, but having met Pyper, I realise she means no harm. I'm not sure she ever could. "You look, Phoenix. I know you think I've got some hidden agenda but I really don't. I'm not going to stop hanging out with people from 'your line' just because you tell me to. How petty can you get?" I ask with an arched brow.
‹Phoenix› A single brow arches as I watch him, though I do slip the knife back into its sheath. The spring wind claws at my hair, whipping it into my face. Incessantly stuffing it behind my ears would look silly, so I let the stupid red mess flip in every which way, squinting at Jesse as best I can through the strands. It's really, really hard to stay angry with hair flying in your mouth... "I don't think you have a hidden agenda. If you did, I wouldn't really care all that much. It's not pettiness, Jesse, it's you accepting the consequences of your actions. I don't want you around my childer. I don't want you around your own childer, what with how terrible of a sire you are, but I'm not going to tell them that. They're adults; they can make their own choices." Finally, the wind subsides enough for me to reach back and twist it into a knot at the nape of my neck. "I'm done arguing with you, so the sooner we both start accepting a few things, the better. Nobody made you sever your line - you did that all on your own. I won't forgive you it. I don't think you deserve forgiveness or much of anything, really. If you want it, you can work for it, but after your last little stunt, I'm done going out of my way to help you, only to have it thrown back in my face. It's not pettiness. It's mistrust"
‹Jesse Fforde› I smile. It's not a sadistic smile. It's not even an angry one. "I'm not a bad side, Phoenix. I think I'm actually quite a good one. I'm not going to ask for your help - Velveteen and Micah have helped me above and beyond what I ever expected of them. I never asked for it, but they did it anyway. With all due respect, Phoenix, I'm not going to stay away from people I like. If they so happen to be your childer, so be it. I'm not going to stop my own childer from mingling with you, even though I might want to advise them against it. Because truthfully, I don't trust you either," I say, still smiling, hands still shoved into my pockets.
‹Phoenix› My left eye twitches while I listen, ungrateful little **** that he is. The shaking of pebbles across the paved ground is subtle at first, easily attributed to the blowing wind scattering dust and debris. But Jesse keeps talking and the lights start to flicker, and that's when I realize just how ******* angry I am with him. I should have killed him. I didn't, but I should have. I'm not going to stand there and yell at him - not yet. I have a better idea. Earlier, I'd presented the memories of his pleading ineptitude. Now, I close my eyes and gather up every single memory I have of ever having helped him. From the initial siring when I'd taken him to the sewers and taught him how to keep himself safe, to showing him everything I knew about rituals. Feeding and fighting and everything in between I gather up and shape into the tip of a spear before sending it flying straight at him. The sharp, cutting tip of that lance I support with every single time I could recall being hurt by one of his derisive, sneering looks or the cruel, hateful things he'd said. By the way he'd abandoned me, when I found out about the severance, and how deep that had actually cut. All those memories backed by all that hurt race through the air between us. I don't even wait for him to react before hissing.
"You mean the way you never asked me, but I did anyway? And then got treated like **** for it. The way you took advantage of everything I ever gave you and couldn't muster up an ounce of loyalty or respect in return?"
‹Jesse Fforde› I stand there and take it. By the end of the barrage of memories I am shaking my head, teeth grinding, muscles twitching in my jaw. I don't like it when people invade my mind. I don't like it one bit. But I stand there and I let the memories come. And at the end, I have just one more memory. One of Phoenix crying, before she took my sight from me. Does she want me to take pity on her? It's not going to happen. "No, Phoenix," I say, calmly. This time, it's not going to work. She's not going to be able to push my buttons. I am happy for the first time in a long time and she's not going to take that from me. "Thing is, I am loyal to Tytonidae. You asked me to betray them. I wouldn't. That's what it comes down to. You were about to rip my home out from under my feet and I didn't let you. You made it clear, afterwards, that you wanted nothing more to do with me. I made that easy for you. And now you want to take revenge?" I stop. I cant my head to the side. "It's a thing that happened, Phoenix. I can't take it back. You have to let it go, move on," I say.
‹Phoenix› "No, I never asked you to betray them. I asked you if you would betray me, and you couldn't give me an straight answer. You decided to be an *** about it and this is where we ended up. All because you couldn't answer a simple question. Did I overreact? Yes, I did. But you, ultimately, escalated it by severing and creating your ******** little bloodline instead of trying to talk to me. What I did was easily undone. What you did is not." I twist my lips into the semblance of a smile; I sound bored or worn down to the point I don't care. I'm not sure which. "I'm not taking revenge. I'm keeping the people I care about away from you. You can either choose to respect my wish that you stay away from the bloodline that you opted out of, or you can choose not to. You could take it back if you wanted to - you don't, which is fine, but that is your choice. I'm not going to let it go and that's my choice."
‹Jesse Fforde› A give a sigh. I'm not sure why I bother trying to converse with Phoenix. "Haven't we had this conversation before?" I cross my arms over my chest and roll my head on my shoulders. "I'm not going to take it back. Not if you keep acting like a paranoid *****. What do you think I'm going to do, Phoenix? Try to turn them all against you? What possible harm am I doing to you by talking to those you turn? My progeny are my own. They belong to my line. They are not Altaire. They do not belong to you. Jesus, they don't really belong to me. They're not objects, they're people," I say. "They can do what the **** they want. And I'm going to do what the **** I want. Okay?"
‹Phoenix› I snort - so ladylike. Childish as it is, I mirror his movements, if only to show him how positively ridiculous he looks. Sure, he actually has some musculature, but it still looks silly. The more he talks, the more amused I get. Being around him is like playing emotional pinball and it's really gotten tiresome. "I don't think you could turn them against me, Jesse." It's stated flatly, matter of fact. "It's not paranoia, it's principle. You severed - stay away from the people you rejected, because it wasn't just me: you turned your back on the entire bloodline and nobody, especially Pyper, needs your kind of bad influence." There, I said it. Pyper is far too unstable to learn anything from him. "People aren't possessions, Jesse. People have feelings, and it's about damn time you learned that. You go right ahead and do whatever it is you want - you're going to do that anyway - but that means I'm going to do whatever it is I want. And if that means I have to drain you, strip you, drag your body out of the city and set you on fire, so be it. That's not ideal, though... Far too messy. If you don't want to start making amends, that's on you. As far as I'm concerned, you've owed me a bucket full of apologies for months."
‹Jesse Fforde› "You live in a fantasy world, Phoenix. It's all so black and white for you. I didn't give you an answer. You booted me. I told them all, at the time, that they could come to me if they needed help. To me, in here," I say, fist slamming my chest, "I only turned my back on you, only because you turned your back on me. I know people have feelings. It seems the only ones that matter or seem to have any importance to you, though, are yours. You are the only one I seem to have hurt. You have all these absurd assumptions about me. You keep giving the impression that I'm dead to you. That you don't give a ****. So why do you want me to apologise so bad, huh? You are the only one still making a big deal out of this..."
‹Phoenix› Fantasy world? Hm... This time, I do look down; nope, still not fantasy-wear, just the same old jacket and torn leather pants. When he pounds his chest, I just snicker under my breath and let him go on without interruption. When he stops, I frown. I probably was the only one that ever made a deal out of it in the first place, so that really doesn't phase me much. The rest of what he said, though... I tilt my head a few degrees like some kind of curious pigeon eyeing a breadcrumb. "I admit I overreacted. I should have come talk to you, in person, but I didn't - for that I am sorry. That doesn't change that you should have come talk to me, in person, and you didn't. Two wrongs don't make a right." My tongue flicks out over my lip thoughtfully and I flinch. The dried demi-fae blood is sour to the taste "Who else should be hurt? Who else was hurt? You? Then you should have come talk to me before being rash. You don't give a **** that I don't give a ****. You don't care what I think - never did or if you did, you never bothered to ask before going about your own ***-backward assumptions. So why the **** does why I want what I want even matter?"
‹Jesse Fforde› "We have already had this conversation, haven't we? Yes, I did agree that talking would have helped. This, I have already admitted to. Neither of us came to talk to each other when we should have. It's done," I shake my head. "I might have been hurt. I'm not anymore. Why? I've moved on. I've got bigger fish to worry about, now," I admit. "I'm not asking you to tell me your reasons. I'm asking you to truly think about it yourself. Does it really matter, in the grand scheme of things? Aren't you happy, or something? I hear you're getting married. Are you angry because you want to **** me, before you tie the knot for good? Is that a thing?" I ask. I honestly cannot understand why she should be holding on so tightly to something that irritates her so much.
‹Phoenix› "I don't know!" I snap. I've had this conversation with him in my mind so many times, and it usually ends... poorly. I can't tell at this point if one of those happened in reality or not. Though if we have had the conversation, he probably should know why it pisses me off. "Yes, I'm getting married. Yes, I'm happy about that. Yes, it matters because Axel and I can't bind. We could have shared a lineage, at least. Now we can't, because of what you did. I could try to explain it to you more in-depth, but you wouldn't understand." I pause, lips pressing into a thin line, "And no, I don't want to **** you!" With that said, I ball my fingers into a fist and aim it for his nose. He deserves it, though in hindsight, a slap may have been more appropriate.
‹Jesse Fforde› I am ready for her retaliation. A sly, backhanded comment like the one I have just made is bound to cause a reaction. I've had a lifetime of smart-assery to prepare, and dodging a single punch is small fish. I duck and dance backwards, out of her reach. I laugh, because I can't help it. I gasp a breath and force myself to stop. "Oh god, it's not really funny I know but... ******* hell, Phoenix, you need to loosen up a little. "It's not my fault you can't bind - that you've already tied that knot eternally with Legion. Maybe this should teach you not to opt in to such an eternal promise with only a few months' dating, right? Now, I can't say I'm an expert - not sure I've ever been IN love," I lie. "I'm not sure how you can't still share a lineage. Velveteen and Micah share a lineage. They aren't related by blood. You're creating problems for yourself that don't exist."
‹Phoenix› I glare at him while stepping forward to once more close the distance between us, unimpressed with the childish behavior. The last thing I need is salt lacing the a still gaping wound that is Legion. I'm faster than Jesse, and so when I'm once again just shy of arms' reach, I lunge. My hand snaps out with all the force I can muster over such a short distance and manage to connect my palm with his jaw. Hopefully it's a hard enough blow to rattle his smug little teeth. "Micah and Vel are bound, you twit. It's not your fault we can't bind, but it is your fault that Axel's direct bloodline connection to me was broken," I hiss. I want so hard to be mad, but I can't. More than anything, it hurts. "Like I said... You wouldn't understand. If you did, you'd have waited for Felicity."
‹Jesse Fforde› The slap connects, and it feels exactly like it should. Like a slap. Maybe I shouldn't laugh, but again, I can't help it. "Oh get off my case, Phoenix! Felicity is fine. Sex is fun, and I like to play if the opportunity is given to me. Felicity is a big girl. She's angry with me. That's to be expected," I stop. My need to explain myself and my relationship with Felicity dissipates. I don't need to justify myself to Phoenix. I don't need to tell her that I do understand, more than she knows. I lift a finger to my lip. There's blood in the corner of it. I lick it away. "What are we really talking about here? You and Axel got together after everything. It's not as if I did it on purpose, Nix, as much as you might believe. I couldn't see the future. I didn't put anything between you and Axel. Imagine he's someone from some other bloodline. This is such a non-issue, and you really need to untwist your panties," I say, slowly, as if speaking to a child who is finding it difficult to understand.
‹Phoenix› Even though he's managed to jab at arguably the biggest button I have, I raise my hands in surrender. Not that I'd ever actually surrender, but the Felicity thing isn't my business. "What you and Felicity do is up to you two. Sex is fantastic. I'm not on your case, just leave Le- him the **** out of this." I hate that it feels like I'm choking on a name. I hate that he doesn't understand - probably can't understand. "It is an issue, and Axel is part of my bloodline - or he should be. The bond is just gone. Your motivations don't matter - it needs to be reversed. You can't understand why it's important. Can't. You can't understand."
‹Jesse Fforde› "No, I can't understand. Not that particular motivation, no - love is love, regardless of a ******* bloodline. You should feel a bond with him regardless, is what I understand," I say. I have no motivation to try to help Phoenix, not with the way she's acting. Even still - "If you know something I don't about how to reverse these things, then tell me. As far as I know, though, it can't be reversed. Your little tirade is not going to help anything," I say. "What are you trying to achieve here, Nix?"
‹Phoenix› I sigh, and this time when my arms fold over my chest, it's for protection. Against what, I'm not sure - maybe honesty. Maybe being attacked for opening up. "I'm scared. I love Axel. He's good to me - better than L-Legion, but we can't bind... I'm scared of what will happen if he comes back. I have an actual damn bond with Legion. I have a bloodline bond with Legion. I have neither of those with Axel and I hate it, because I don't want to hurt him - ever." I'm not cold, but I shiver anyway and turn to stare off at the sky. I don't think I'll magically stop loving Axel if Legion wanders back into my life, but I want to be prepared to face that eventuality head on, if it happens. "I don't know what tirade you're talking about. If you want to reverse it, do the ritual in reverse?" It was as good a suggestion as any.
